Chapter 16

The Marines didn't abandon Randy. In fact, he ditched them. He convinced Sergeant Capoue that being unable to speak French might give him away. There were promises he had made to Dena and the girls. He would accompany them. He believed he was about to waste a day in his life, but those are the prices big brothers pay. However, if an answer to his inquiry became available, he could sneak back to the hotel and read the reply.

Randy thought that the day would be wasted. He would escort the girls through the botanical gardens and smile. Ray-ray had told him sometimes men do things they don't like for family. Randy was prepared to suffer through this. He made a miscalculation. The white haired guide for the tour held him enthralled. She referred to herself as Birdie. He found himself making a catalogue of ornamental and food bearing plants that should thrive in Wayward's climate. The governor expected everyone to look for ways to improve the settlement.

Eventually Birdie led Randy, Ms. Timmons, Laure Findlay, Leslie Jenkins, and team Wonder Women to the Brookside House. The girls were scheduled to meet Professor Ali. Once they proceeded upstairs, the waiting room proved to be a haven for Randy. He hoped to see a reply from AI about the Monopoly conundrum. There wasn't one. He activated the e-reader application and browsed the books contained there. The Osterman Weekend looked promising.

Several men entered the waiting room. Randy glanced at them. They appeared to be workers. The foreman was speaking to the receptionist. Randy went back to the adventures of John Tanner.

Something white fluttered on the edge of Randy's peripheral vision. A figure loomed above him. Randy looked up at one of the workers. "'Scuse me," the man flashed a grin. "Me paper slid under your chair."

Placing the pad on the table, Randy leaned and twisted. He had to readjust. He finally slipped out of the chair and partially crawled under the chair to reach the paper. As he slid the paper forward, he saw pictures of Andres Zucher and Llew Carter. A silhouette labeled Wonder Woman accompanied the two pictures. Before he pulled the paper free, he flipped it face down.

Randy decided to sit and read. The men ignored him. Randy minimized the e-book. He began typing into the device, a quick description of the paper, and he sent a request to review the images of the men in the room with him. He reactivated the book.

Two paragraphs later, altered text appeared. 'This is Commander Meers. Randy, these men are associated with the anti-Confederacy group Fawkes Brigade. They appear to believe that Commander Carter and Colonel Zucher are meeting with individuals from Cambridge who wish extraction. Ms. Timmons has been made aware of their presence via her implant. I am going ask you a question. Shake your head to respond. Do you feel able to sit there and read?'

Randy nodded slowly.

'Remain where you are. Do not initiate contact with these men. In twelve minutes, Sergeant Capoue and his men will be there. They were already en route to the hotel. They will not enter the building unless necessary. Do you understand?'

Randy nodded again.

'Then enjoy your book.'

The window Randy had been typing in became an electronic worksheet. It looked like one Leslie had given them a month ago when the class was reading The Great Gatsby. A character description was started for John Tanner.

Randy switched back to the book and pretended to read. The receptionist seemed to be at ease in the exchange. The voices gave no hint of any stress. Perhaps they would realize the men they sought were not here and crawl back home.

After speaking with the receptionist, the foreman called one of the men to speak with him. "The only meeting scheduled today is a bug doctor and a group of girl scouts."

"Girl Scouts!" the large man echoed.

"No," stated the startled receptionist. "They call themselves Team Wonder Women."

"Fuck me," the foreman said.

"What 'da ya think, Lester?" the man asked the foreman.

"Well Paul," Lester the foreman replied, "using children for nefarious purposes is what these people do." He looked into the waiting room. "Those kids involved are most likely being used to shield the real meeting."

Randy looked up as the men with him in the waiting room stood up. He tapped the code sequence for an emergency.

Lester reached over the receptionist's desk and tugged the phone cord loose. "Please give me your cell miss."

She looked at Lester, unmoving. He snapped his fingers. She quickly opened her purse and handed him her phone.

"Will, grab the boy's tablet." Lester turned back to the receptionist. "Who else is on the ground floor?"

"Mickey the janitor, and Neva in the business office," her reply was calm.

As Lester questioned the whereabouts of the others, a figure blocked the overhead light. Randy looked up. This must be Will.

"Okay lad," the voice was gruff and determined, "I need your pad."

Randy realized he needed to stay silent. Yes, he had been here in Cambridge listening to the locals. He could still hear the two commanders and the lieutenant speak in his mind. Randy knew he wasn't an actor. He handed the pad up. When Will went to pull the device away, Randy resisted a little. "Don't get cheeky. I'll box your ears," Will threatened. Randy cringed and released the tablet. "Good, be reasonable." Will began tapping on the screen as he walked toward Lester.

"Anything Will?" Lester looked at the tablet.

Will responded, "He's reading an old Robert Ludlum novel and answering questions about it. His wireless is searching for a connection."

"Check it carefully, those things all have cameras."

Randy thought about the images he had taken over the past few weeks. Internally he began to panic. He looked for an escape.

"I think he has spent some time at the pool." Will turned the tablet to a landscape orientation. "Think he has those tarts' numbers?" Randy caught a glimpse of the screen as Will turned to show the pictures to the others. They were from a pool party at his house on Wayward. Edited heavily as only women in swimsuits could be seen. Randy didn't recognize any of the women's faces.

"Your wife'll nut you." Lester retorted.

"No pictures of us." Will tapped some more.

Another man walked up to Lester and Will. "There are kids upstairs." He paused, looking at Lester. "How do we handle it?"

"If their parents are letting them be involved with the Confederacy," Lester shrugged, "I say a little corporal punishment might get our point across."

A middle-aged woman and an older man pushing a mop and bucket were ushered into the waiting room with the receptionist. Willie stood at the door. "If you sit here and stay quiet, you will not be harmed. This does not concern you."

The men filed out of the room. Lester stopped Will. "Will, stay here and watch over our guests."

Randy watched the men follow Lester up the stairs. He sat down and tried to look past Will toward the stairway. A shout filtered down from upstairs. Time passed at an agonizing rate. It was the scream cut short that disturbed Randy the most. He decided he must act; some of his family was in danger.

A survey of the waiting room offered Randy no choice of weapons. He was in a waiting game. The second scream from upstairs ended his childhood. Randy stood and walked toward Will.

"Sit down, lad."

Randy continued.

Will pumped up his chest to look menacing, "Need to learn your place."

Randy stepped to within two feet. He locked eyes with his captor. "Boxing your ears it will be." Will started to slap the side of Randy's head. During the backswing Randy stepped forward, he used the power of his legs to ground his punch. Sergeant Capoue's technique had been easy to master.

Will's larynx was structurally unable to survive the force. He turned the backswing into a sudden clutching at his own throat. Air no longer traveled through it.

The xiphoid process became the next target. Four rapid punches forced him to double over. Randy grabbed the man's hair and tried with three mighty blows to break the top of a table. When he let go, Will slumped to the floor. He turned to the others. "Get help." Randy unscrewed the handle from the mop.

He did not rush, but Randy bounded up the stairs. Fortunately, the carpet of each step aided his stealth. He slowed to observe as he ascended. One man was in the hallway, looking at the other end. Randy began to stalk his prey.

To compensate for the higher gravity of their new home, all colonists had been augmented to survive the new environment. His two father figures had encouraged all their collective children to strengthen more than just their minds. Randy had spent about a year increasing physical attributes since then. He was ready to put his endeavors to the test.

Shards of the man's own skull tore into the back of his brain. The threaded end of the mop handle was cheap steel. The force of the strike was about the size of a nickel. Cheap steel is harder than bone. Randy stepped forward to catch the body. Laying it flat, He moved to the first room.

Dena saw her brother standing with a stick in the open doorway. She and the other girls were pushed into this room with this grumpy dude. Randy held a finger up to his lips. Grumpy dude was looking through the girls' tablets. Randy lunged forward, his stick shot at the man's head. Grumpy dude sneezed, moving his head. Randy's stick struck Grumpy's left ear. Blood spurted from the wound. Grumpy grabbed that side of his head and bellowed.

In seconds, her brother hit Grumpy five times. Twice in one knee, Grumpy dropped down onto the floor. Then his ribs and lower back suffered blows. Pain made him arch his back, his arms grabbing at where Randy had struck him. Spinning the stick overhead, Randy stepped forward and whacked him in the throat with the blunt end. Grumpy started shaking.

"Artie!" a voice called from up the hall.

Randy shut the door. Dena watched as he shoved a desk against the door, flipping it on its end. There was a banging at the door.

"Artie!"

"Are ya'll alright?" Randy looked at the girls.

Everybody nodded.

"Hand me a tablet." Randy pointed to the pile on the floor. "Who screamed?"

"They brought a lady into the room by her hair," Dena offered. "When she saw the gun one of them had, she screamed again."

Ruby handed Randy a tablet. Instantly, a very upset Commander Meers appeared. "Did I not make myself clear about staying put?"

"There was a scream upstairs." Randy spoke very calmly. "I had to act."

"We will speak later. Open the window. A device called a Kitten will be there in forty-five seconds delivering a transporter pad for your escape."

Abby opened the window.

Meers spoke again, "Tell her to stand back."

Randy spoke quickly, "Abby, everybody by me."

Meers spoke again. "We are transporting you to a secure location."

A boom signified that something was pounding in the door. Randy braced himself against the desk. The girls crowded in on Randy. The desk bucked again. Randy strained, pushing back against the force applied against the door.

A black meter-wide disk whipped in diagonally through the open window and landed on the floor. The comforting circles on the surface glowed green.

"Dena," Randy ordered, "get everybody through the transporter pad."

Once everyone had stepped through, Dena turned and looked back at Randy. "Go," he exhorted. "I have to hold the door closed."

"Come on," Dena pleaded.

"Don't worry," he handed the tablet toward Dena. "Take this." This time the desk buckled.

Dena stepped toward Randy. Grabbing the tablet, she stepped onto the pad.

After two minutes on the phone, Lester convinced Rhys Morris that he knew two things: his team was set up; and whoever was responsible now lived on borrowed time. Everything Lester had learned about these people screamed they were not Confederacy. Lester reported the results of his investigation. Five minutes looking at e-mail exchanges, the girls' notebooks were full of questions about roaches, the travel plans, and threats of violence from the three mothers with the group. To make it worse, the bitches' passports showed they were Americans.

"Lester," Rhys quickly looked for an exit strategy, "secure everyone, and then leave. We will get you and your boys to Kent by seven." Rhys looked up at his contact with Cambridge authorities. The contact shook his head. Turning, he stepped through the doorway. Rhys could see him speaking into his police radio. Rhys focused his attention back to Lester.

"Look mate," Lester had been itching for a fight, "if these ain't the bloody people we need, we're out of here."

When the one secretary screamed a second time, Paul hit her. That panicked the kids. Chip and Artie took the girls down the hall. He would need to restrain these folks, these here and those downstairs, before they left.

His brother Trevor owned a sex shop called Ye Olden Sex Shoppe. He would pay handsomely for pick-up aftermath pictures. Trevor had provided Lester with a box of Furry Bunny Hand Cuffs. These items fell into Trevor's hands before they ever made it onto a truck, at the factory. Trevor would lose about a hundred quid, but he was supportive of the movement.

"We are going to use these." Lester pulled out a rainbow palette of fuzzy handcuffs.

"Are we that dangerous?" the one called Leslie asked indignantly.

Lester smiled. "I really need something that won't leave fingerprints."

She stared at Lester. "What is going to happen to me and my children?"

She was a beautiful strong woman, the perfect fodder for those sods in the Confederacy. She would do anything to save her kids. Lester had fantasies of being able to be with a tart like this, but was not going to take advantage, act like the enemy. "After you are secured in here, I will bring them in to be with you."

"You terrified us," her words accused him. They were accurate.

He guided each of the adults through the steps to secure them to the available chairs. A commotion drew his attention toward the door.

Paul started calling down the hall for his brother Artie. When the door opened, Paul glanced down the hall. He spoke one word. "Shit." He pulled his pistol and rushed down the hall. Ali and Rob followed him.

Lester finished securing the old professor. He could hear his men shouldering the door. Paul was making threats. He quickly cuffed the unconscious secretary through the arm of the chair, leaning her against the professor. The three moms looked ready to kill. The pounding stopped. The gunshot made him nervous.