Jordan’s eyes snapped open, the memory of strange voices and some bottom feeder named Acumen fresh on his mind. The majestic vista before him did little to stir his emotions as instinct, honed from countless hours of training and combat, took over as he quickly surveyed the area for threats.
The first thing he noticed was that he had been trussed up and suspended in the air by what appeared to be threads of glowing mist that prevented him from moving. Try as he might, there was no give, making escape unlikely unless he could get some outside help.
Inwardly he groaned. This was just like that time in Bali after Vlad had talked him into following some shady characters into an ally. The only difference being that this time he was bound in oddly glowing mist instead of rope.
Shaking his head to get his mind back on track, Jordan resumed taking stock of his situation. There was little doubt that he, and by extension his team, were in danger. How could they not be? The strange vista and highly advanced restraining technology were evidence enough that he was no longer on Earth. Add in his damaged gear scattered haphazardly along the ground painted a most frightening picture.
Either he was at the mercy of some aliens far superior to anything they had from home or Vlad was up to his practical jokes again.
Thinking of the annoying Russian operative, Jordan tried once again to look for his team.
The vista before him was something out of a dream. Light emanated from a thousand and one clouds, illuminating a vale of mist interspersed with floating islands of mountainous peaks. Countless flocks of birds flew in ever shifting patterns throughout the trackless sea of light, their movements a balanced choreography between order and chaos that whispered peace to his mind.
Jordan distrusted the feeling immediately.
After a few moments of searching, Jordan located Corporal Wolf who appeared to be woven into a similar prison of misty threads. Fortunately, the Kid had his hands and arms free. But instead of trying to free himself, he was waving his hands in the air like an idiot. If Jordan didn’t know any better, he would have guessed the Kid was poking at some kind of invisible touch screen.
So many questions ran through his head that it was difficult to narrow them all down. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Corporal Wolf believed he was safe. Of course, after the bomb incident the Kid’s personal judgment of what constituted a threat was suspect at best.
Until that moment, Jordan had held out hope that the other members of his team were waiting just out of sight. But the evidence before him spoke volumes. Not a single member of his team, including Vlad, would have left the young Corporal unsupervised.
Then there was the girl they had rescued. Jordan’s eye twitched as he fought down the surge of annoyance that came from the memory of her kicking him in the face. The only good news was that she looked fine.
Well, fine-ish was a better description. She was obviously terrified, kneeling on the ground as if praying. Terrified of what, he didn’t know. The only thing out of the ordinary was three small puffs of cloud floating in front of her.
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Granted, the balls of mist were a bit… odd. But those were the least of his worries. At least the girl wasn’t restrained like himself and Corporal Wolf. He could use that so long as he got her attention.
Jordan narrowed his eyes, taking in the details of the strange girl. She wore a stained and torn dress of slate blue and white that would have fit better in a Shakespearean festival. It was obviously tailored to fit her lithe build, but the style was at odds with the person he saw before him. It was impractical. Something more suited for a Victorian court than the outdoors. And the girl before him most definitely belonged in the outdoors.
The woman’s olive colored skin and sun bleached hair had the sheen of one who spent long hours under the sun. Hardened calluses covered her hands, indicating someone accustomed to working with tools.
Jordan desperately wanted to call out to both his misguided Corporal and the girl, but the deafening silence gave him pause. The slightest noise would draw whomever their jailors were in an instant.
He had at least 70 rounds of ammunition left for his rifle and 40 for the pistol that was conveniently holstered on his hip. A single grenade remained from their previous fight and his two combat knives were still strapped to his damaged and burned body armor - which was laying uselessly at his feet.
Corporal Wolf still appeared to have his weapons in hand, but that was far from comforting as the Kid was woefully ignorant of his surroundings.
A movement out of the corner of Jordan’s eye drew his attention. Five glowing balls of mist floated toward him, blocking his view. Strangely enough, they looked like the same kind of floating marshmallows that hovered before the Corporal and the unknown girl.
Pushing the balls of fluff from his mind, Jordan planned out his next steps.
His first priority was to get free before their captors returned, meaning he needed help. Unfortunately, the only two people available were either busy poking at thin air and smiling like a moron or otherwise engaged.
Jordan wasn’t certain, but deep down he felt Corporal Wolf was responsible for his current situation.
Seeing that no other options were available to him, Jordan hissed the Corporal’s name.
Rather, he tried to. Surprisingly, no sound escaped his lips.
Shocked, Jordan tried again, only louder. Then again. Before long he was screaming as loudly as he could in a vain attempt to grab the Kid’s attention.
No matter how hard he tried, no sound came out.
Frustration stretched the limits of Jordan’s overtaxed mind. Not only had some unknown beings raided his thoughts and had him trapped like a fly in a web, but the Corporal hadn’t even so much as taken a look around!
If Mother, his crusty sergeant at arms, had been there, the Kid would have been doing push-ups and front-back-goes until he was either dead or close enough to it. Visions of the crusty soldier breaking a boot inside the Corporal’s fourth point of contact dance in his mind.
With that pleasant thought at the forefront of his mind, Jordan closed his eyes and regulated his breathing; forcing himself to take deep, steadying breaths. The first step to working through any problem was a calm mind.
Unseen, a portion of the bond’s restraining Jordan vanished as he inadvertently breathed them in.
A thrill of energy passed through him as Jordan willed his mind toward resolving the problem of attracting the Corporal’s attention. It would be nearly impossible to do without sound or while the Kid’s back was turned. Which left him… nothing.
Frustrated, Jordan processed and discarded half a dozen ideas, ranging from tearing his way out of the gossamer webs to trying to spit at Corporal Wolf. But no matter how hard he tried, nothing worked.
Taking another mind empowering breath, the now familiar tingle of energy coming with it, Jordan thought back to the moments he had heard the disembodied alien voices. They had communicated between themselves easily enough using their thoughts. But what was more important, he had communicated back.
A crazy idea, as insane as throwing himself through a magical portal, entered his mind.