The Prophet of Starfall: Episode 12

Silence hung in the air as Jericho and Kyran stopped fighting and stared at the gun pointed at Kyran’s head. Holding the Colt 45 with a steady hand, Nathan stood rigid and unyielding, his eyes locked onto Ian McAddams.

“Did you say stop?” Nathan asked, feeling a little smug.

“Enough!” Ian barked. “Everyone sit down.”

Nathan lowered the hammer on the weapon and holstered it.

As Jericho and Kyran slowly walked back to the table, each watching the other like guard dogs eager to pounce, Ian said,

“I am certain we can handle this. . .,” he said, struggling with the last word, “peacefully.”

“I didn’t know you could pronounce that word,” Jericho joked.

Kyran started to rise but Ian pressed a hand on his shoulder to keep him seated.

For a moment, Ian closed his eyes to calm his nerves. Then slowly he opened them and settled a glare on Nathan.

“What is it that you wish to know?” he asked.

“Why were your men trying to rip off the truck leaving from Thymatec labs?” Nathan asked.

“Braden Cole was a simple technician in charge of waste disposal at Thymatec. A low-level nobody who could leak information back to me. The research team had been working on a chemical weapon called the butterfly, and I saw an opportunity to get some for myself, a slice of the pie. I know parties engaged in civil wars, wars on foreign soil, and a chemical weapon like that would prove useful to them. But because of this weapon’s limited shelf life, I had a guarantee it would never be used on Americans. I’m a business man, not an animal.”

Nathan could see that Ian was fighting with himself to remain calm.

“Everything was going according to plan until a woman, some local meta, started following Cole. He got nervous and sent two associates, the men you ran into downstairs, to have her killed. I had no part in that.”

Nathan knew he was lying but decided to keep quiet for now. The timeline depended on Ian McAddams confessing his involvement in the theft, not Elisabeth’s death.

“Do you know who’s behind the production of the Butterfly?” Jericho asked.

“No,” Ian lied.

Nathan let that pass as well. Suddenly his head began to spin.

“I heard that Braden Cole might be dead. I haven’t confirmed that yet, but given his mistake in involving you two, it would be in his best interest to disappear,” Ian said.

“He’s dead,” Nathan said as he felt a flash of pain in his temple.

Jericho looked from Ian to Nathan.

“When?” he asked.

“Recently,” Nathan replied, rubbing his temple.

Just as a sharp pain tore its way up his spine, his vision blurred and went dark.

* * *

When his eyes opened, Nathan was standing in one of the long hallways of Thymatec Laboratories.

He watched as a group of men, all dressed in crisp business suits, attacked Elisabeth and 4 21. Elisabeth tossed her assailants aside like an angry child with her toys while 4 21 moved with blinding speed, dodging, striking, and firing his pistol when needed. Nathan saw that most of the men were clones of Dr. Ghislain.

The scene seemed to shift to slow motion as Nathan watched Elisabeth in fascination. Although she was brutal with the clones, throwing them against the walls, slamming them to the floor, she moved like a dancer, balanced and fluid. Nathan couldn’t help but admire her grace.

“Enough!” a man called from a nearby doorway, snapping Nathan out of his reverie.

When Nathan turned toward the voice, he saw John Stafford the attorney with his arm wrapped around Charlene Reynolds. He held her in a tight grip with a gun pressed to her neck.

Elisabeth whipped out her pistols and pointed them at Stafford’s head.

“I won’t miss,” she warned.

“Nor shall I,” Stafford sneered.

Elisabeth held her gaze, her hands steady, until she heard 4 21 say,

“Drop your weapons.”

Keeping her weapons trained on Stafford, she looked over at 4 21 and saw that his guns were on the floor and his hands raised.

Elisabeth hesitated then unwillingly holstered her guns.

“Fine,” she spat.

“As I expected,” Stafford said turning his pistol to Elisabeth.

Just as he pulled the trigger, Nathan snapped awake.

He was back at the restaurant of the Emerald Garden club.

“Are you okay?” Jericho asked. “You said Cole had died recently then you spaced out for a second.”

Nathan looked at Jericho and said,

“We need to get to Thymatec now! They’re in trouble!”

Somewhat confused by Nathan’s behavior, Jericho watched as Nathan turned to leave, but a moment later, he quickly followed him down the stairs.

When the door swung shut behind them, Ian McAddams stared daggers at the door.

Kyran fiddled with a napkin then cautiously asked his father,

“What do we do now?”

Rubbing his hands together, Ian McAddams seethed with anger.

When Ian gave no answer, Otis Morton and Joseph Horton slowly approached the table.

Horton softly asked, “Sir?”

“What?” Ian snapped.

Recoiling at the quick response, Horton asked,

“What do you want us to do?”

Ian thought for a moment then slowly a smile worked its way across his face.

“Kyran,” he said.

“Yes, sir?” Kyran answered, straightening up.

“Take your men. Take my men. Take everybody. If they’re too stupid to handle a gun, give them a knife or a bat. I will not sit back and let some arrogant punk make a fool of me,” Ian snarled.

When Kyran and the men stood awaiting further instructions, Ian leapt to his feet and shouted,

“NOW!”

“Where are we going, sir?” Kyran asked.

“Thymatec Laboratories. Burn the place to the ground if you have to, but bring me the Butterfly.”

“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.

“Kill that girl, the one you failed to kill the first time. Then kill that so-called prophet and bring me his head,” Ian said.

“Sir?” Morton asked confused.

“You heard me! Bring me his literal head!” Ian snapped. “Now get out of here! Kyran, hold back a minute.”

Ian waited until the men had left before he turned to his son.

“No playing around! I want you to bury Jericho so deep in the ground his friends will have to travel to Asia to find his body! Now go!” Ian ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Kyran said.

As Kyran turned to leave, Ian added,

“And, boy?”

Kyran turned to face his father.

“No witnesses,” Ian growled.

Kyran nodded and hurried to leave.

“That should teach them to cross me,” Ian smiled, settling down in his chair.

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