General Brewer straight in the eye.
'It's 'bout goddamn time.'
– Less and less light shone through the windows of the guest bedroom in Jim Brock's modest home. To Nina, it felt as if the day dragged: every minute seemed an hour every hour seemed a day unto itself.
In her line of work, waiting came with the territory. She knew how to wait. She had once waited for three days in a Florida swamp searching for some kind of dinosaur-thing terrorizing settlements outside of Orlando. One time she had waited inside an air vent for twelve hours to avoid Hivvan sentries in Atlanta.
But this time things felt different. This time Nina did not retain control. She waited for others to act. She waited to see if her conversation with Lori Brewer would result in a rescue, or an I.S. team crashing through the front door.
She also waited for something else. She waited for Gordon Knox to die.
Nina sat in the guest room alongside Gordon's bed after convincing Ashley to take a rest on the living room sofa. Gordon's chest rose and fell erratically as his breathing hastened and slowed, hastened and slowed. Occasionally he turned his head from side to side, or even opened his eyes for a few moments.
Yesterday Jim's doctor friend had set up an IV with antibiotics and fluids, but none of that mattered. Gordon would soon die: any minute, in fact, unless Brewer could save the day. Jim Brock's wife pushed open the door. It creaked, a little. 'Hi,' she said and entered the room. 'I'm just going to clean up.' 'Oh, yeah, sure.'
The small woman with a figure that held extra weight from recent child birth walked to the nightstand with the intention of removing discarded bandages and cloths.
'How is he doing?'
Nina yawned before answering, 'No real change. The Doc said that every minute is a roll of the dice. I mean, he's not going to make it much longer.' 'I'm sorry.' 'I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry we barged in on you like this.' Ann Brock did not reply with words, but the flash of a scowl on her otherwise pretty face offered answer enough. 'We really took you by surprise,' Nina added.
'I'm not accustomed to soldiers at my door,' she conceded as she eased to a sitting position atop the chest at the foot of Gordon's bed. Nina said, 'But you've been very nice to us. Especially considering that you've got a new baby in the house.' Mrs. Brock glanced at the ceiling, the floor, and otherwise avoided Nina's eye. 'You don't like soldiers very much, do you? You don't like me.'
Ann Brock sat straight as if finding her spine and spoke quietly so as not to wake Gordon: 'No. It's nothing personal. I don't like your kind.'
'And what kind is that?' Nina remained just as quiet.
'Your kind, Captain. Those who live to fight.'
'You think soldiers love to fight? We're the ones who get killed and maimed.'
'No, not all,' Mrs. Brock answered. 'I've known plenty of men who enlisted back in the old world only to regret it. But there are others-others like you-who don't know anything except how to fight. You're the ones who make war.'
Nina tilted her head and volleyed gently, 'We're the ones who are fighting the aliens who came here to exterminate everyone. I'm just saying, without us where would you be?'
'And who do you think those aliens are, Captain?' Jim's wife appeared prepared for the debate even though the tone remained civil. 'They are the same as you. Back home on their worlds there are others of their race, people like me, who want nothing to do with this war. I guess every species has its warriors. So yes, you're here to fight with the invaders because you and they are of the same breed, Captain. Problem is the rest of us are caught in the crossfire.'
Nina chewed on that. Was it possible she shared something in common with the alien invaders? No. She rejected the idea.
'Listen, I'm not off trying to take over someone else's world. I'm fighting to save ours.'
'Yes, good for you that you have the moral high ground. But if your Emperor commanded you to travel across the stars to steal another race's planet, I believe you would find a justification for that and fight on.'
Nina shook her head but deep down she wondered. If Trevor Stone commanded her to travel across the stars to conquer, would she refuse? Had she not already done his bidding without question?
'Truth is, Captain, you scare me. I look at you and see a woman who could be me, or any one of my friends, but from what I understand you're a killing machine. It’s scary that something so dangerous could live inside someone who could be the All-American girl.'
'And what does your husband think? About me, that is.'
'Jim,' Ann rolled her eyes as she molded her thoughts into words. 'Well, he's an idealist. When he knew you before he probably thought that all you needed was someone like him, someone who could help you overcome whatever problem made you the way you are. Probably figured his goodness could help you turn away from all the violence and release the real person inside. You were a mystery to him; you still are. He has talked about you often over the years. But I don't think he understands you.'
Nina wondered, 'So why haven't you turned us in? I'm just saying, you make one phone call and I.S. would be crawling all over this place.'
Ann appeared somewhat offended at the idea. 'Because my husband promised you a safe place to stay. Because he believes you. Or, I guess, he believes in you.'
'What do you think? I mean, I've told you that the President you admire so much is behind the assassination, that he has bargained with our enemies to do this, and that he might have even made a deal with the most dangerous aliens who have come here.'
Mrs. Brock said bluntly, 'I don't believe you. Not a word of it.'
'You think..?'
'I think what I've read in the papers is right. I think you and Mr. Knox here are a part of a military conspiracy to overthrow the President and return us to a dictatorship.'
'But what if I'm right? I know you don't believe me, but what if I'm right and everything I've told you is true?'
'I don't know,' Ann said. 'All I know is that since Godfrey has been in charge the war has ended and there's hope for my son to grow up in peace.'
'That's where you're wrong, Mrs. Brock. The war hasn't ended. Your President just decided to stick his head in the sand. That means he's left all our asses hanging out.' The house vibrated. The windows rattled. What remained of the early evening sun disappeared into shadow. 'What in Heaven's name is that?' Ann Brock gasped as she turned on a light near the bed. Nina told her, 'I think my ride is here.' — The Excalibur moved away from Wrightsville Beach and over the Atlantic Ocean heading northeasterly. Its running lights flashed like stars in a night sky made even blacker by the floating battleship's shadow.
Nina Forest, Brett Stanton, Ashley and both Jon and Lori Brewer sat around the table in the conference room, the same room that also doubled as the Captain's mess. The observation windows offered a view of moonlight peeking through a very thin veil of clouds.
Nina ended her lengthy explanation of everything she and Gordon had learned during their three-week investigation. While Stanton sat and listened to the tale with his usual aplomb, Jon grew angrier and angrier with the unpeeling of each layer of deceit. He pounded the table top with a fist when Dante Jones' involvement came into focus, including Stanton’s revelation in regards to Jones' solicitation of votes prior to the election.
'From the start,' Jon shook his head. 'He's been playing this from the start. Playing me. Wow, I can be an idiot but this is a whole new level.'
Stanton said, 'But wait now, you're not the only one who got duped. I think Evan just about twisted us all around. And if it weren't for me and Eva swallowin' the bait, Gordon Knox would probably have been chosen for the top spot. Then things mighta been a shade different.'
Lori turned to Ashley and said, 'Speaking of which, how is Gordon?'
The question shook Ashley from a bout of deep thought.
'What? Oh, your Doctor says it's still too early to tell. The only thing he knows for sure is that Gordon suffered damage to his spine. He is paralyzed from the waist down and is in critical condition.'
Brett said, 'That about spells out our situation, too. Critical condition.'
'No, no,' Nina disagreed. 'We've got this ship. I'm just saying, we can do something about all this. Fly in to Washington and arrest Godfrey or something.'
