Zero Hour (Wealth of Time Series, Book 5) Read online

  Martin crossed his arms and frowned. This was a conference call without video, so he didn’t need to worry about his appearance. Gerald smirked as Martin started shaking his head. “You know this could be over already if you just sent some help. What would Chris do if 50,000 Road Runners showed up at his front door?”

  “It’s not that simple, and you know it,” Quang fired back. “Aside from our Bylaws, gathering that many of us in one location would surely expose us to the general public, especially in that small Alaskan town.”

  “You know that this affects all of us. All around the world. His counterparts may not be as evil or aggressive on your continents, but what makes you think he will stop with North America? He will keep taking everything he can get until he’s stopped. Commander Iglesia, Chris will surely start with South America once he has control of the North. Are you ready to fight what would be a massive army of his by then?”

  “We have a strong relationship with the leader of the Revolters down here,” Commander Iglesia said. “They’ve assured us protection from anything related to Chris Speidel. Sorry, Commander Briar.”

  Martin sighed under his breath, sure to turn his head away from the speaker phone. “You guys don’t understand. You don’t know him like I do. He is manipulative, a professional con man who will do anything for power. You may have a good relationship with them for now, but what happens when Chris offers them the world? They’re already on the same team—it won’t take much.”

  “Again, Commander, it’s just not a concern for us.”

  Martin wanted to punch a hole through his desk. “The greatest mistake a society can make is to follow the belief of ‘it will never happen here.’ We’ve seen it over and over throughout history. Genocide, famine, drought, and disease have all plagued different countries at one point in time. All could have been avoided, but we buckle into our beliefs that such tragedies will never befall us. I have news for you: it will happen. Don’t let your arrogance get in the way, and please try to understand how dangerous and devious this man is.”

  The line was silent, the only sound someone sniffling in the background. “That’s a good thought and all,” Commander Iglesia finally replied. “But we’re not going to do anything until he becomes a direct threat to our countries.”

  “I think we’ve beat this dead horse enough,” Commander Blair said. “Martin, no one is sending reinforcements. If you want to run tests on yourself, then go for it, just don’t count on us for any support. Does anyone have anything else they’d like to discuss on this call?”

  Commander Blair had just silenced Martin, and the thought made him fume. They all tersely wished each other farewell, Martin sitting quietly as the call disconnected.

  “We’re on our own,” he said to Gerald.

  “It appears so. What do you want to do?”

  “Do you think it’s a waste of time?”

  “I think we can start with a blood sample. Let our people study it in a lab and see if they come up with anything. Beyond that, I’m not sure what you’d like to do. It’s not like you can even freeze time—you need someone else for that.”

  Martin rubbed his forehead. Sleep had been impossible to come by, the stress of getting this organization back on its feet weighing down on him every second of the day. That wasn’t even considering that they still had no surefire way of capturing Chris. Gerald had already gathered a team to start constructing the underground tunnel in Alaska, but they were still a week out from breaking ground, and likely another two weeks from then to complete the project.

  “Am I in over my head, Gerald? Be honest with me.”

  “No,” he replied quickly. “You’re ambitious—something we desperately need right now. I think you’re just spreading yourself too thin. You need to reel in your focus. Let me work on the tunnel – that’s going to be our way of getting Chris, I’m sure of it. And your only worry should be rebuilding our infrastructure and gaining the public’s trust.”

  Martin shrugged. “I guess. I just know these two years are going to fly so fast. We literally have to take huge strides every single day if we want any sort of legacy to look back on.”

  “And we are. You just don’t feel it. You haven’t been out in public yet. People are hopeful again—even the people who voted to hide. You’ve already inspired the confidence in our group that had vanished when he kidnapped Commander Strike. Just keep pressing a little bit each day, and I promise, in the end, you’re gonna look back and not believe what you achieved.”

  Martin nodded his head slowly, feeling motivated himself. “Thanks, Gerald. I needed that. You wanted to discuss the tunnel today?”

  “Yes,” he said, sitting forward. “I’ve been running numbers. If we hire on eight more people to help with the tunnel, we can shave another week off the construction. We’d also get to start sooner, as in the next three days or so.”

  “Are there people willing to work?”

  There had been a shortage of Road Runners willing to contribute, mainly due to the fear keeping them locked in their homes.

  “We have lines of people willing to get on this project. Like I said, you’ve inspired the masses. They want in. They’re fed up with living in fear and realize that Chris is the reason for it. This project is going to go very smoothly, based on the initial response I’ve received.”

  “Then hire whoever you need. Let’s move on this.” The additional spending request had to go through Martin’s approval. With a little under one trillion dollars in the Road Runners’ bank account, he saw no reason to decline any expenses that involved capturing Chris. Besides, they still had teams traveling into the past to buy stocks that would explode over time. The cash flow remained constant as long as they were placing sound investments.

  “Thank you. Have you had a chance to look through the list of potential Council members?”

  Martin had delegated some of the tasks in his initial email from Commander Blair. Some of the matters required both of their attention, mainly the one where they needed to rebuild a Council to govern the organization. “I looked through some of them, and I just don’t know. Did you get the feeling that you kept reading the same profile over and over? It’s like all of these candidates are the same person.”

  Gerald chuckled. “They are all highly educated people with ample judicial or government experience. So yes, most of them have similar backgrounds and job histories. They’re all very much qualified.”

  Martin nodded. “I do want some experience on the Council, but I also want some fresh blood. I’m going to look heavily into candidates with strong education, but no government experience. We need some free thinkers on the Council who will challenge the norm. These are desperate times and we can’t fall back on our same old habits. Have you made any outreach calls?”

  One of Martin’s first assignments was to contact all existing Council members and see if they planned on returning to their jobs. He had personally placed phone calls, while a team of Road Runners went on a search for their Councilors. Their homes had all been abandoned, and it was clear they remained in hiding.

  “I’ve made a couple of calls, but no luck,” Gerald said. “I don’t think any of them are coming back, Boss.”

  “I think they need to hear the right message. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but I’m going to broadcast a speech directed to the Council. If we can’t find them, then we just need to call them out of hiding. Surely they’re somewhere watching.”

  “Why don’t they have tracking devices like the rest of the leadership team?”

  Martin shrugged. “Because they didn’t want them. And they make the laws. No one can tell them otherwise.”

  “Should we find candidates who would be open to that?”

  “Why would anyone be open to having a tracking device implanted? What we need to worry about is making sure something like this never happens again. No reason for our leaders to disappear because their lives are threatened. Honestly, I don’t like the tracking.” Martin tapped
on his inner bicep where his had been implanted. “Maybe we should find a Council who wants to get rid of them. No need for us to invade anyone’s privacy.”

  “I’m sure that will be a hearty discussion, but we need to focus on the bigger picture. This is the Council, and you get to shape it. The people you choose are your legacy and will remain in their positions well after you’re gone. You can single-handedly shape the future of this organization.”

  Martin understood this just fine and had already wrestled with the overwhelming responsibility. One bad decision could hamper their growth for years. He had many factors to consider like a candidate’s beliefs, age, and history on particular issues. The new Council would be a direct reflection of his tenure as commander, no one in the past ever having the opportunity to fill more than two seats during their term. He had seven to fill, assuming none of the prior members returned.

  “Okay, let’s come up with a list of finalists.”

  6

  Chapter 6

  They discussed potential Council replacements for an hour, but the conversation veered in another direction, as it tended to in the midst of brainstorming. Martin brought up the idea of having someone travel back in time and tail Chris to truly learn something that could be useful in this war against him.

  Gerald hadn’t liked the idea at first, deeming it an unnecessary risk, but eventually saw its value. This wasn’t a matter of having someone infiltrate Chris’s life, but rather observe from a safe distance. It would be planned with the Road Runner’s safety as the top priority, information on Chris a close second.

  Once they agreed on a general plan for the mission, they shifted their focus to potential recruits. It was a delicate matter, one that wouldn’t move forward without the perfect person to fill the role.

  Their dream candidate needed mental strength off the charts, expert espionage abilities, no fear of death. A bad ass.

  Gerald knew plenty of people who fit this mold from his vigilante work in the grim future, so they punched in name after name into the computer, reading over profiles and narrowing the selection down to three finalists.

  Martin projected his computer screen to the 80-inch monitor hanging on the wall in the conference room. His office had one more week of construction. Gerald’s was expected to be completed in three days—his requiring less upgrades. Until then, they bounced around the various conference rooms.

  “How quickly are you wanting to move on this?” Gerald asked, rubbing his tired eyes. It was eight o’clock, just about time for bed after working since seven in the morning.

  “Immediately. Any chance we can get these three in here tomorrow for interviews?”

  Gerald nodded. “We should, assuming they’re not already in the middle of other missions.”

  “Perfect. Let’s reach out to them and see what we can arrange, then call it a night. I’d love to get this project started the day after tomorrow if we can swing it.”

  Gerald whipped out his cell phone to make the calls.

  * * *

  They managed some sleep, a quick six hours that was nowhere near enough for what lay ahead. The growing exhaustion reminded Martin of the time when Izzy was a baby, every day seeming worse than the one before, his brain begging for a rest but knowing deep down it was never coming. Eventually he found a way to power through it all, even turn his fatigue into energy, if such a thing was possible.

  That had been in his twenties, and he doubted his middle-aged body could handle such abuse now. He had no choice but to find out.

  Gerald had phoned the three potential candidates for the dangerous role of tailing Chris, but only one was available to come in. As Martin feared, the other two were already in the middle of other missions to which they had been assigned.

  Fortunately, the candidate who was on her way to the office was also Gerald’s favorite of the lot. And if she made a splash in this initial interview, there would be no need to question the others.

  Gerald joined Martin in a conference room as they awaited their interviewee’s arrival.

  “She’s the real deal,” he said. “I worked with her on a mission in the late 2020’s, right before things got completely out of control. You’ve seen her resume; there’s not a single weakness on there.”

  “I agree. Read it this morning, and I’m very intrigued.”

  A knock came from the door and Martin rose to answer it.

  “Sir,” one of his staff members greeted. “Your ten o’clock is here.”

  The man stepped aside and gave way to a beautiful woman with smooth, olive skin, round brown eyes, and flowing honey-brown hair.

  “Commander Briar?” she asked, sticking out a hand.

  Martin grabbed her hand, feeling a world of strength in her grip. “You must be Arielle Lucila. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, sir,” she replied, and her eyes bulged when she saw Gerald sitting in the room behind Martin. “Oh my God!” she squealed like a teenager. “I didn’t know you would be in this interview, too.”

  Martin stepped aside to let her pass, and she brushed by with her arms held out as Gerald stood up.

  Arielle slapped him on his beefy arms. “Why didn’t you say so on the phone last night?”

  Gerald grinned. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

  They hugged for a moment before Arielle stepped back in search of a chair to sit. She was surprisingly short, perhaps no more than five-and-a-half feet tall. Martin had met plenty of these type of specialists, and whether a man or woman, they were always built like different-sized versions of Gerald.

  Arielle wore a gray blazer that matched her skirt. In all the commotion, Martin didn’t notice the clacking of her heels until she had crossed the table to sit down across from Gerald. Her calf muscles bulged, and Martin knew the rest of her was likely just as solid.

  Martin closed the door and returned to his spot next to Gerald. “Arielle, thank you so much for flying out here on such short notice. Have you been to Colorado before?”

  “Been here? I was born and raised here. I grew up in Aurora, and didn’t leave until I went to college in Chicago. Loved it there so much I decided to stay.”

  “Ahhh, very nice. I’m also a native—from Larkwood.”

  “I know Larkwood, had a few cousins who lived out there, although I don’t think they are still there. Who knows? I travel around so much I hardly remember what year I’m in.”

  Arielle giggled as if this amused her. As absurd of a lifestyle as it seemed, Martin had to remind himself that some people enjoyed it, even thrived in the constant chaos.

  “So when are you originally from?” Martin asked. She didn’t look any older than thirty, but that didn’t mean anything in this life of time travel.

  “This is my real time in 2020. I was born in 1994.”

  “You’re only twenty-six?” Martin gasped, and he saw Gerald smirk out of the corner of his eye.

  Arielle shrugged. “On paper, I suppose. But if you add up all of my work for the Road Runners, I have nearly two hundred years of experience.”

  Martin tossed his hands in the air. “I’m impressed. Can you tell me about some of your experience? Your resume lists ‘classified missions’. Would you mind going into detail about those?”

  “As much as I can. I’ve done lots of highly sensitive work for Commander Strike, and Commander Porter before her.”

  Martin moved forward in his seat and nodded for her to continue.

  “I can’t go into specific results of my missions, but I can let you know what I was doing. My first major one was the JFK assassination. I stalked several persons of interest, including Kennedy, to see what I could learn.”

  “How did you stalk the president?” Martin asked. “I can’t imagine you were able to sneak into the White House.”

  “I joined the Secret Service. Traveled back a few years with a resume formulated to get the job. I took all of the courses the Road Runners used to offer: espionage, deception, Ninjutsu to name
a few. I don’t know why we stopped offering those. I suppose because we don’t do much mission work aside from trying to stop the future from happening.”

  Martin looked to Gerald for clarity, still too new to the organization to know its history.

  “We used to have teams go on missions to learn history,” Gerald explained. “Find truths, and sometimes stop tragic events from happening. They were called the Angel Runners.”

  “We are still called that,” Arielle added. “Don’t count us as extinct. We still exist, just not as many as there used to be.”

  “Interesting,” Martin said. “I’ll have to look more into that—sounds fascinating. Back to our topic though. Kennedy—who did it?”

  “Not a detail I can give. Let’s just say it’s complicated, and we really had no way of stopping it.”

  “Of course. What other work have you done?”

  “Pretty much any high-profile matters you can think of within the United States. I also looked at Lincoln’s assassination. MLK’s. Tried to stop the Great Depression, the Vietnam War, and 9/11. I studied the Revolutionary War up close to see what we might be able to apply in the future. Those just scratch the surface. I’m pretty much always on a mission. Tomorrow I’m supposed to head to another, trying to stop some murder in Florida.”

  “If I may,” Martin said, leaning forward even more, “I think we may be cancelling that mission. What are your thoughts on this potential one with Chris?”

  Arielle’s eyes lit up, and her hands clenched the chair’s arm. “What all does it entail? Gerald only told me that it would be following Chris. But I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”