Incursion: The Rift - Episode Sixteen

Two sets of strong hands lifted Tim and Jeffrey out of the police cruiser and ushered them toward the SUV, another Lincoln Navigator. They weren't rough, but there was no doubt that compliance was in no way optional. Only after Tim and Jeffrey were in the back seat did one of the two men cut the zip ties binding their wrists.

"I'm very pleased we arrived before your captors could leave with you again," said one of the men. He stepped out, closed the back door, and got in the front on the passenger side. To Tim there was something familiar about the man's accent, some tonal quality was similar to that of the men at the park, but he still couldn't place it. The man's facial features too were impossible to place. He wasn't white, nor was he African-American, Asian, Middle-Eastern, or Native-American. He didn't seem European.

"Missing you at the motel was most unfortunate," the man continued, turned sideways in his seat so he could face the men in the back. He spoke casually, with a half-smile, as if discussing nothing of greater consequence than the latest Sox game. "As was the attack on these police officers," he added with a nod of his head to the carnage on the road outside. "Well, we've always known the Trinity has no respect for human life, didn't we?"

"Who are you?" Tim asked and immediately felt a sharp nudge in his side from his brother. He knew he should probably have heeded the signal, but exhaustion and stress got the better of him. "What is the Trinity?"

"Tim," Jeffrey hissed. "Shut up."

"My apologies, Mister Strand," the man said. "They told me you've been inactive for a while and that your recuperation may not be complete. Memory loss is to be expected, but I'm sure it will come back to you shortly." He smiled.

"What the hell are you -" Tim began.

At that moment the other man opened the driver's side door and got in. "The agents are dead," he said. He put the Navigator in gear and pulled away smoothly, seemingly not in a rush. "There is an elderly man in another car down the road, alive but unconscious. I don't believe he saw anything."

"Very well," the first man nodded. "Lady Damaris would want us to make sure he's attended to."

At the mention of that name Tim's breath caught and he leaned forward. He was sure he had never heard it before, and yet something about it was familiar.

The man in the front seat pulled a cell phone out of his jacket pocket and hit a speed-dial number. "It's Scheffer," he said after a moment. "We've got Mister Strand and his brother. We're heading for the airstrip. Inform Lady Damaris that we'll be at Mount Mansfield in three hours. Mister Strand's brother has been injured. Be sure to have medics standing by at the bunker. Also, please contact the local authorities and inform them that an elderly man was in an accident just down the ramp from the location where their officers were killed. He requires medical attention."

Jeffrey leaned close to Tim and whispered, "Still insist you have nothing to do with these people?"

Tim nodded. "More than ever." He forced himself to lean back.

"Well, they sure seem to know you."

Read Mycroft's Trial By Fear

"At least they're not pistol whipping you in the head," Tim shot back.

"Don't get too comfortable," Jeffrey told him. "Kid gloves or not, I still don't trust them. If you really don't know what's going on -"

"I don't!"

"Well don't let them know that. If by chance they've snatched the wrong guy, they're not going to just apologize and take you home."

Tim swallowed hard and nodded.

Fifteen minutes later the Navigator turned off the main road and headed down a narrow lane. At the end of the lane was a small aircraft hanger beside an open field. In the dark Tim couldn't see a runway but he assumed it was there. Nevertheless, a moment later it became apparent they wouldn't need it. The Navigator pulled up beside a waiting helicopter, a large Sikorsky executive transport, painted the requisite black.

Scheffer and the driver stepped out of the Navigator as soon as it stopped and opened the rear doors for their passengers. "If you'll board the aircraft," Scheffer motioned. Tim and Jeffrey exchanged glances and then followed Scheffer to the helicopter. Even before they were aboard, the twin engines fired up and the four-blade rotor began spinning slowly. Tim instinctively ducked his head, although it wasn't necessary; there was plenty of clearance. Inside he found a luxuriously appointed cabin with wood paneling and leather seats.

"Whoever these people are," Jeffrey whispered to Tim, "they like to travel in style."

"There's a lavatory at the stern," Scheffer told them. "Once we're underway I'd be pleased to offer you refreshments. Our flight will take less than two hours. If you'd like to sleep, please feel free. Your seats fully recline."

"Where did you say we're going?" Tim asked, feeling that that simple question wouldn't give away too much.

"Mount Mansfield, Vermont," Scheffer answered without hesitation or apparent suspicion. "We've maintained the bunkers you created."

"Good," Tim responded, ignoring the sharp glance from Jeffrey. He had to walk a fine line, he knew. Don't reveal that he wasn't who these people thought he was, but don't pretend to know too much either. Either way could get them both killed.

The pilot announced that they were ready for takeoff and the three men took their seats, buckling themselves in. The powerful engines of the Sikorsky wound up and the helicopter lifted gently into the air. They climbed rapidly and in a few minutes were flying high above Bristol, Massachusetts, with the glittering lights of the suburbs of Providence and Pawtucket visible in the distance on their left.

Tim tried to relax, but that was next to impossible given all that had happened. He thought again about the name he had heard Scheffer mention when they were in the Navigator. Damaris. At once he was both sure he knew that name, and sure he had never heard it before. How could that be possible? Heeding Jeffrey's advice, he didn't want to reveal that he really had no idea who these people were, but his curiosity was insatiable and he decided to risk a mistake. "Will Lady Damaris be there?" Tim asked Scheffer.

"Of course, Sir," Scheffer smiled. "I believe she's quite anxious to see you again."

"Me too," Tim said. Again, he ignored his brother's glare.

Jonathan Mycroft is a freelance writer and author. His latest novel, Trial by Fear, is now available as a pocket book and as a downloadable e-book from Lulu.com. Visit his website at www.jonathanmycroft.com

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