Quantum Touch Collection - Books 4-6

Excerpt from Quantum Touch Collection - Books 4-6

AFTER MIDNIGHT, Thursday, August 25

“Jim? Florian Declercq here. Sorry to call so late. Have you a moment?”

“No problem, Florian. Just sitting and reading.” The general clicked mute on the TV. “What can I do for you?”

“I've received an invitation to join a group of businessmen. You were my first thought. A man came to my Antwerp office, saying he represented someone whose interest was stirred by my company's participation in the president's development plan.” General Beech listened with pen in hand, a yellow pad on his lap. “When I asked about the group's purpose, he referred to them as 'the Caballeros.”

The pad flew, pages flapping on the way to the floor. “Florian, may I call you from my office? In say, an hour?”

* * *

IN THE DEEP of night, the White House operator told the president to pick up line two for General Beech. Turning on the bedside lamp, he said, “What's happened, Jim?” The general reported his conversation with Florian Declercq, the Belgian shipping magnate. When Beech mentioned 'the Caballeros,' he stood up. “General, where are you now?”

“At my office, Mr. President. I wanted the call recorded and secure.”

“Meet me here in half an hour.”

As the president dressed, he wrote notes on his yellow pad. The Caballeros, again. During the past year, a conspiracy of wealthy businessmen and industrial tycoons had surfaced, interfered with his administration's foreign and domestic policies, attempted assassinations and just when law enforcement had them identified, one by one, the members were killed, each in suspicious manners. Now, they're reforming. What more damage can we expect?

AFTER A LONG and solitary summer, Fritz Russell had frittered away another hot August day preparing for the new school year. As he reached for the front porch light switch, the doorbell chimed. The outside light threw shadows in its forty-watt beam. A familiar face, with shoulder length hair and a full, unkempt beard stared in at him.

“Good to see you, Ash.” He held the screen door open. Not sure what to expect after two months, Fritz reserved his joy.

“I saw the light on. Then I saw the family room light go off.” Ashley remained motionless on the porch. “It's late.” He apologized with a shrug.

“Come on in. Not like I have anywhere to go.”

Ashley downed a first glass of soda and poured another. Across the kitchen table, Fritz waited to hear a story, of where Ashley had been, what he had done. But mostly, he wanted to find out what had happened that day in Palestine, two months earlier. That day had made the portal's danger real. He had saved the president once again, but Jane was killed, and Ashley was severely wounded. Shortly after, amidst his grief, Linda had taken their son and left. Ashley returned home briefly, and before Fritz had had a chance to talk with him, he too had disappeared. Ashley hadn't answered his calls or returned his messages. But here he was now, the prodigal having come home. Fritz studied his disheveled friend. So prominent only an eye-blink ago, Ashley had lost the joyful gleam in his eyes.

“I guess you want to know where I've been.”

“It's been a long summer. Tell me whatever you want. I have a few things to tell you too.” Before either could say another word, Fritz's phone rang. “Who can that be at this hour?” Fritz ran to the family room, switched on the light he had just turned off, hurried to the sunroom, and grabbed the phone just before it switched to voicemail.

“Hello?” he panted.

“Sorry, Fritz. Hope I didn't wake you.”

“Hi, Mr. President. You didn't, but I had to find my phone. Things are a little less orderly since Linda left. What's up?”

The president needed the portal. Tony Almeida was on his way to the school. When he said that he might have a break on the Caballeros, Fritz responded, “I'll see you in twenty minutes.” Returning to the kitchen, he told Ashley.

Ashley set his glass on the table. “Can I stay here? I'm not sure I want to see him yet.”

“Ash, it wasn't his fault. It was mine. You should see him and then you can decide how you really feel.”

“You're probably right, but not now. Not yet.”

ON HIS WAY to Riverboro High School, following the same route he had driven for the past decade, Fritz reflected on the year since he had found his classroom door opened the portal. Since he had discovered that he could time travel, his entire life had changed. Meeting Robert E. Lee, and the president asking him to use the portal to help make the world safer, began a series of adventures in spacetime. The mission which destroyed the Narian nuclear program had created a pattern. Quiet, then action, then quiet again. It couldn't have been quieter. Then Ashley shows up and the president calls. He tried not to hope that the next thing would be Linda coming home.

HIS HEADLIGHTS STREAMED across the playing fields behind the school, where the teams would soon resume their daily practices. In two weeks, the lot would again be bustling with teachers and students. Lights from a car turning in brought Fritz back to the evening. Not evening. Morning, very early morning.

Tony parked at the door and opened the rear hatch. “Hi, Tony. Let me help you with that.” Fritz reached for the generator handle and they carried it to just outside his classroom door.

As he had so many times in the past year and a half, he placed the now-wrinkled brochure for a White House tour on his desk, took a paperclip from the drawer, and placed it on the Oval Office picture. Back in the hall, he tapped the doorknob.

“Are the planes up yet?” he asked. “It just hit me. It's been a year since you figured this out.”

Tony had calculated the mix of electricity and turbulence that opened the portal. The generator provided the power. They would wait for the turbulence from above. “Wow. We've sure been busy. They should be in place pretty soon,” Tony said.

When the expected buzz tingled Fritz's fingers, he pulled the door open.

“Hi Fritz. Hi Tony,” said the president, stepping through the portal. “You remember General Beech. Let's go in here,” he pointed to the classroom across the hall, “and I'll tell you what we're doing.” He pulled a folded page from his jacket pocket. “We're fetching Florian Declercq. He's at his office. Here's the floor plan.”

The general said, “We don't want him talking anywhere where others might hear. We've been through that before. He's been invited to join the Caballeros.”

Fritz set the portal to Belgium, and moments later, Florian Declercq entered the school hallway. The president reintroduced Fritz and Tony. Fritz said, “Nice to see you have a new wardrobe, Mr. Declercq.” Florian chuckled, remembering his last trip through the portal in his underwear.

“I've found a new tailor. In Brussels. Not as much fun as London, but safer.” He greeted his friend, General Beech, and then the president, before glancing up and down the hall. “I will never grow accustomed to this sight.”

“Florian,” said General Beech, “sorry for the cloak-and-dagger, but I didn't want to press our luck.”

“Mr. Declercq, you're aware that we've been tracking the Caballeros for quite a while,” said the president. “You might not be safe, or free to speak openly.”

“After our London adventure, I could not delay informing you. But the invitation seems innocent, the normal course of business. The gentleman explained he represented an exclusive group of men and women interested in international commercial cooperation.”

The president's glance warned Fritz not to speak. Even though chasing the elusive Caballeros had left a trail of dead bodies, Fritz held his tongue.

“Mr. Declercq, I'm sure you followed the stories of the death of Mr. Massoud, as well as other wealthy businessmen last spring. They were all members. We captured two who then succeeded in committing suicide right under our noses. The one remaining at large seems to be restocking the cupboard.”