THe Sentinal Satellite Page 19

  “I know you miss our daughter but you can’t stay here with her.”

  In a defeated although soft voice, she asked why. The unexpected question seemed to puzzle him but he managed to blurt out the truth.

  “Because I need you.”

  She said,

  “I have proven to be unreliable to you. I have lost your confidence and trust in me. Mostly, I can’t bear to be alongside you suffering that look that screams how much I have failed you.”

  Santo could not believe what he was hearing. Scenarios of past events ran through his memory but none would come to mind where she had ever been unreliable. When he asked what she was talking about, she reminded him of her breach of security at contacting Belle. She confessed that she was hurt when not confiding in her where they were taking their daughter as well as how it hurt when he darkened the D-wing canopy so she could not see where they were going.

  With fawn eyes looking right into his and him seeing a tear struggling to be held back, Santo felt unarmed. Fortunately, the soldier did the right thing. There was sincerity in every word he said.

  “I understood your love of our daughter and missing her prompted you to contact her. I know why you did it.”

  Upon hearing those words, she sniffled and felt slightly better. What he said next quickly erased that short relief.

  “Yes, I am mad at you. What you did was irresponsible. You put our daughter in great risk. If you want to wallow in guilt, do so but do not assume my anger in anyway changes how important you are to me. As for my trust in you, I doubt if there is anything you could do by fault or purpose that would change that.”

  She asked,

  “Then why will you not tell me where we are leaving Belle?”

  The seriousness in his voice was gone.

  “Because I honestly don’t know where we are.”

  He told her how Edward had agreed to help but only with the understanding of keeping this location secret. Now, considering the ‘other people’ secreted here, he understood the importance of that confidentiality. Santo continued,

  “When I said that I don’t know where we were going, I meant it. It was not to keep you out of the loop.”

  He trusted her but there was still the importance of security. He did not tell her this location and its secret occupants would be erased from their memory. The most important secret he held back was learning that the Duchess was now a mortal enemy, the one behind the attempt on their daughter’s life. Not to run off in the wrong direction, he held that information back because, at least for now, it was only the word of a dying killer.

  From the cottage, Belle saw mom and dad talking in the distance. She had never heard harsh words between them but when seeing dad’s frown and mom’s sadness she knew something was wrong. With the intent to make things better, she ran to them. Santo picked her up and asked,

  “What does my little soldier want now?”

  In a manner scolding her father for his error she firmly said,

  “I am not a little soldier, I’m a little girl.”

  Santo chuckled and corrected his error.

  “You are my little girl.”

  He then said something that Maria hoped he too would say to her.

  “I love you.”

  Hope for redemption was quickly dashed when he handed her over to her mother, turned and climbed into the D-wing. Mom responded in the same manner, kissing Belle good-bye followed by words of love. Belle than said,

  “Don’t worry about me. I like it here.”

  Pleased that she had corrected whatever was wrong between them, Belle scampered back to the cabin.

  To Maria, there was a big difference between trust and love. Words of love were what she was hoping to hear, the words that would make everything right again. Santo thought he had made things right by assuring her she was needed and trusted. Little did he understand that love dwarfed all other needs.

  While sitting in the D-wing waving goodbye to everybody, the canopy slowly closed and turned dark. As they lifted straight up to the clouds, Santo entered the co-ordinates for the Three Sisters. It was then Maria asked,

  “What is the plan now Santo?”

  Because he did not want to mention the Duchess and her involvement until confirmed, there was a twinge of guilt in his reply.

  “We still have a third piece of the puzzle to retrieve, so let’s get back and hear what Zak has discovered for us.”

  Back at the cottage, after seeing them lift off, Liana and Belle went inside. For an odd reason, Quastima stayed in the doorway looking at the distant trees. He was not watching the frolicking fairies but rather staring past them, deep into the forest. His diligence was rewarded when seeing tall trees gently swaying as if pushed aside.

  He then saw the same dark shadows move about that he had seen before. Although having the appearance of threatening, he noticed that the fairies seemed oblivious to what was approaching them. Stepping into the clearing was a giant of a man. Even at this distance Quastima easily recognized that he was at least twice the height of a normal man. He was so tall that the fairies took on the impression of mere gnats.

  There seemed to be a staring contest between the giant and Quastima. While Quastima was absorbing friendly vibes, the giant appeared to be waiting for something to happen. Pleased with the physic senses that he was getting, Quastima raised his arm to offer a welcoming wave. As if that was what the giant was waiting for, he waved back and returned to the thick forest. Then, as Quastima turned around to enter the cottage, he saw Liana standing just behind him. She too saw the giant. He smiled and said,

  “And you thought living on this planet would be boring.”

  Chapter 32

  It had started out as a good day for the Duchess. In her new headquarters, she sat snuggled in her sofa leisurely sipping an expensive wine. Because she knew long sought revenge was happening today, an expression of smugness radiated through her.

  Niko was pounding computer keys attempting to recover all he could from the House of the Nazarene satellite she had taken control of before beginning the destruction of the island. She knew if ever the House of the Nazarene came under attack, there would be an immediate shutdown of all communication satellites and the ‘sleepers’ would take over. Before she pressed the deadly ‘enter’ key, she secretly downloaded as much information from those satellites as she could.

  In an attitude laced with great pleasure she called over to Niko,

  “Is the damn baby dead yet?”

  While putting a finger to the stem of his thick glasses, pushing them farther up his nose, he called back,

  “No Duchess. Something might be wrong. The Russians have already missed two report times.”

  She did not want to separate herself from the luxury of her comfort and a nice glass of Riesling, but with reluctance, she forced herself to get up and walk across the floor.

  It was her intention to vent anger at Niko for his incompetence but before the chastising could start, Niko suddenly announced,

  “Wait, I finally have a GPS signal.”

  Standing beside him and looking down at the screen, she snapped,

  “What good is a GPS signal? I need a report on the mission. I want to see the body.”

  Because he had worked with the Duchess before her incarceration on another planet, Niko was accustomed to cowering at the first sign of her temper.

  “I’m sorry Duchess but they are not reporting in. All I can do is give you a location.”

  She yelled,

  “I know where they are you fool. I sent them there. What I need to know is if the mission has been completed.”

  While Niko was cringing, waiting for her temper to strike, she became lost in her calculating thoughts. Finally, she demanded,

  “Do you still have control of the Nazarene satellite I took control of before the destruction?”

  With eyes still glued to the screen he replied,

  “Yes. I can control seventy-five percent of all its functions.”r />
  In a snit, she slapped him on the back of his head and snapped,

  “I told you to get all of it. Show me the controlled programs.”

  She looked at his screen but could not glean the information she wanted and so demanded,

  “Where is that satellite now?”

  “Just as you ordered, positioned over the Canary Islands streaming coded accounts from the international mercantile banks.”

  The satellite was there to pilfer accounts and accumulate resources for her new operations. She therefore took a moment to weigh how badly she wanted the billions of Euros against an uncontrollable desire to know the result of her plan. With the decision made, she ordered,

  “Is it capable of visuals?”

  It was a relieved reply,

  “Yes.”

  “How long will it take to reposition the satellite over these coordinates?”

  She leaned over and entered the GPS location. He studied them, shrugged and said, thirty-five minutes. She demanded,

  “Make it happen.”

  With another glass of Riesling in hand, she stood at the large view window looking out into the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. After those horrible years on the Island of Oblivion she grew impatient to complete her revenge on the House of the Nazarene. When it became known that the last two Sky People on Earth were with Maria’s precious little girl, she could not help but bring to mind a treasured adage, ‘two birds with one stone’. The death of all three would erase many of those horrible years she had suffered.

  Eventually Niko snapped her out of the twisted reverie with an announcement that the satellite was in position. On her way over to the screen, she positively bubbled with desire to see the bodies of two Sky People and a little girl face down in the dirt. Because the Russians had not reported the success of the mission, making her suffer the wait, she made up her mind to hold back millions of Euros in payment.

  Looking at the screen she saw the dirt mound in the clearing and the house just off to the side. She asked,

  “Where have you positioned the satellite?”

  After pointing to natives moving about in the clearing, he said,

  “It’s in the branches at the edge of the clearing.”

  Curious, she asked,

  “Why are so many natives running around like that? What are they doing?”

  After scanning back and forth, it became clear that they were busy cleaning up twisted pieces of helicopter shrapnel. A few off to the side had dug a massive hole and were throwing bodies into it. With the elation of seeing bodies pushed into a grave, she missed the significance of the helicopter debris. She pointed to the screen, excitedly demanding,

  “Zoom in on the grave. I want to see those dreadful Sky People dead and buried.”

  It was not a happy command for Niko for he had to admit limitations to the spy satellite. He hesitantly confessed,

  “I have not yet recaptured the zoom program. This is the best view I can give you.”

  After landing a hard fist to his shoulder, she snapped,

  “Then bring the damn thing down over to the hole, I want to see this.”

  Trying his best to show that it did not hurt, he confessed,

  “But there is no camouflage or anti-impact capability to it. They will see it.”

  In a rage she screamed,

  “I want to see the bodies.”

  With diligent commands from a shaking hand, the basketball sized satellite silently floated out of the trees and down among the natives. When seeing what was pushed into the grave she flew into an insane rage. While screaming, she threw her wine glass at the monitor.

  “No! What have you done to me?”

  Niko too saw that it was the Russian assassins pushed into the hole, not the two Sky People and a baby.

  Other natives were in the clearing busy cleaning up. Some were taking mementoes of the spirits who had battled in the sky. When there was nothing left considered important, they pushed the last of the bodies into the grave. One of the natives, the one considered the best hunter of the tribe saw something floating just above their heads. With a broken branch about the size of a baseball bat, he swung knocking it out of the air. It too plummeted into the grave and was quickly covered with dirt.

  Suddenly the screen went into a frenzied static shudder and then blank. The Duchess recovered from her revengeful snit enough to demand,

  “Get that back. I want to scan the rest of the area for other bodies.”

  However, the signal had mysterious disappeared. There was no getting it back. She stormed across the floor and in a snit slumped onto to the couch. This was supposed to be her finest hour, the day her revenge was complete.

  She understood that the Vatican would be destroyed no matter the decision of the Cardinals. If they refused to expose the truth of their command over the faith then she would blast the Vatican off the face of the earth to suffer the same fate as her hated House of the Nazarene. Either way, her plan would work. Her only disappointment was that she had missed killing those whom she most dearly wanted to extract revenge upon. Still in a snit, she opened her computer, entered a long string of numbers, and waited for Gleb Novokshanoff to answer.

  With his newfound wealth, Gleb was lounging on the foredeck of his new 108-foot yacht cruising just off the coast off Gibraltar. Clad in a skimpy spandex, without spilling a drop of Champagne he managed to put one arm around a woman wearing a scant bikini. A little dog with big furry ears was sleeping in his other arm. Even with a slight Mediterranean breeze, the hot sun was unbearable. However, this was the life of the rich so he willingly suffered the price of such a desired status.

  Carrying a satellite phone, a crewmember approached and said,

  “Hey boss, remember that crazy bitch that shot your other dog? She is asking for you.”

  Gleb adjusted his sunglasses, looked at the man and said,

  “We got class now. Didn’t I tell you to wear a fancy uniform and to stop calling me boss?”

  In a most insolent manner he dropped the phone in Gleb’s lap. While walking away he snorted,

  “You wear the damn uniform then, I like my jeans and boots.”

  While wondering what ever happened to respect for authority, he picked up the phone.

  Even though Gleb answered the phone in a respectful manner, the Duchess was still fuming. Lacking the politeness of an introduction, a stern voice got right to the point.

  “You idiot. You have failed me.”

  It was not respect that made him wait for her rant to continue but rather fear. She hissed,

  “The damn baby lives and all your pathetic assassins are dead.”

  He instantly imagined a flock of winged Euros flying south. His first reaction was to produce his usual groveling tone and start scrambling for excuses of ‘no refunds’ as a condition of contract. Instead, he gathered composure and managed to say,

  “Not to worry. I have many assassins. For no additional fee, I will send more.”

  “Yes you will you snivelling toad. My problem is that she is no longer at those coordinates. When I get a new location, I expect better results.”

  Relieved that the accounts would stay in place, he joyously said,

  “Yes of course your highness, no I mean Duchess. Of course I will guarantee better results next time.”

  The Duchess then dropped her snippy tone and in what she considered a gracious voice, demanded,

  “Where are you?”

  Confused, although glad to hear that the scolding of his failure had ended, he seemed proud to reply,

  “On my new yacht. We are in the Mediterranean sailing to the Black Sea.”

  He became suspicious, and said,

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I have more work for you. Turn that little boat around and come to the coordinates that I will send you.”

  Gleb then made a major mistake. A sense of power entered his inflated ego. He puffed up and said,

  “I’m a busy man. Why don’t you c
ome to me?”

  Attempting to exercise authority over the Duchess was a mistake many had made before and suffered dire consequences. She deplored arrogance, always quick to step on it with all available resources. However, because she needed his army for another part of her plan, she was forced to project tolerance.

  Deciding to step on the arrogant bug later, she snapped,

  “Because I have no intentions of coming to that igloo you call a dacha you little worm. Come to those coordinates and I will make you rich beyond your dreams.”

  While pushed down the slippery ego pole by the weight of her dominance, he still had enough conceit left to respond,

  “I already have a lot of money.”

  Recognizing his Achilles Heel, she stroked it.

  “If you can supply what I need, I will give you Russia.”

  He called for the Captain of the yacht who seemed to think that his presence was more of a request than direct order. Wearing Bermuda shorts with black army boots, he eventually appeared and Gleb handed him the phone.

  “There are new coordinates on this thing. Turn the ship around and get there as fast as possible.”

  The Captain recognized the location and objected,

  “No. You said we would party in Odessa. This is in the middle of the South Atlantic.”