Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Carl groaned, "What?"
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Rolling over, he felt around on his side table for the root of his annoyance.
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
Ding!
"I'm coming," he moaned into his pillow, finally finding his mobile phone as it gave another ding!
"What can be so important at ..." he pushed up, squinting at the clock glowing blue in the darkness, "two in the morning."
Activating the phone, he opened one eye, reading the one-liner notifications coming through. Pushing into a sitting position, he frowned. Rubbing his hands over his face and opening up his email.
"Unbelievable," he murmured, "I'm dreaming."
Sitting on the side of the bed, he leaned his elbows on his knees, trying to focus on the contents still coming through. Reports of bodies scattered through the area they suspected the Tenderhook compound could be found came from different sources, but why come through at this time of the morning?
"It's two in the morning," he mumbled, rubbing his face, "who needs to get information to me this urgently."
Scrolling through the messages as he absently rubbed at his broad bare chest, he frowned. Location markers were sent in real-time hours ago. He only received them now. Details on the number of guards. The logo of the company contracted to secure the compound. More emails came through, supplying details they had struggled to obtain for years. Looking at the email data, he frowned. Every email was automatically set to hit his email box at a set time. Rising, he strolled through his apartment toward his office, punching in a code and pulling the door open Carl stepped inside, said his full name and flicked on the lights as the door closed and sealed behind him.
A ventilation system switched on, making him shiver as raking cold air over his bare skin. Opening a built-in cupboard, he selected a shirt pulling it on as he sat at the desk and opened his laptop. The machine began its start-up as he buttoned the shirt and reached toward the coffee machine, switching it on. The steam hissed from a spout as it began to heat, and the laptop requested his login information. Carl gave each required detail while setting the machine to make a strong black coffee. He settled back in his seat, waiting for technology to connect him to the outside world. Selecting a communications program, Carl punched in a number before sliding a mug under the spout. He returned to his seat when a sleepy voice greeted him on the other side.
"Go secure," he said.
"Secure," the voice mumbled, appearing on the screen to the sound of a door closing, "what's going on, Carl?"
"Sorry to wake you at this time of the morning, Jeff," Carl said, "your asset has made contact and landed us the treasure trove of information we've been lacking for years."
"That is good to hear," Jeff said, sipping a cup of coffee, "did she supply her status?"
"Compromised," Carl said, "any idea what that means?"
"Yeah," Jeff muttered, rubbing his hand over his face, "the people she is extracting are not who they are supposed to be."
"Meaning?" Carl asked, reaching for his coffee and thankfully taking a sip.
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"We're talking about the Tenderhook brothers," Jeff said, "you know them better than anyone. What would they do if they didn't have the real deal and wanted something only the real people would help them acquire?"
"Where do I start?" Carl sighed, "they are capable of anything from espionage and murder to blackmail, fraud, and much more."
"What would stop them from enhancing others into what they want them to be?" Jeff asked.
"If they had the means to do it," Carl said, "and I've seen their holdings to know they do ..." he sighed, "there is nothing that would stop them. But perhaps there is someone."
"Sam," Jeff said, nodding, "or Cherry."
"How do we know where Sam is?" Carl asked, "remember she went dark."
"We have eyes on the Tenderhook compound, right?" Jeff asked.
"Yes," Carl nodded, "what about it?"
"Look at the record of the past twenty-four hours and see what carnage is left behind," Jess said smiling, "Sam doesn't know how to do discrete or clean."
"You mean she is something of a demolition ... um ... I can't say, man ... woman?" Carl asked.
"You have no idea," Jeff said, grinning, "perhaps that's why Stan said to follow the bodies. We have a pair out there that go with their guts. If that leaves a large body count due to engagement, that will be our trail."
"I'll look into it and get back to you," Carl said, "could you look into where Cherry could have gone? I haven't seen any activity since her apartment self-destructed."
"Will do and will let you know," Jeff said, saluting as the screen went blank.
Carl leaned back in the chair, sipping his coffee, thinking. Sam's parents always spoke of being designed to survive.
Could Cherry be one of those kinds of people?
What exactly did they mean by that?
Suddenly alert, Carl sat forward, typing quickly. There was something in that sentence; he could feel it. He would find out what it meant and ensure the world knew too.
"Time to dig," he whispered, absently sipping his coffee as he searched through the new data, "time to find the meaning of those words."
Gasping, Cherry sat up next to the blazing fire. The room was empty, with no clocks, furniture, cutlery or crockery. Cherry couldn't even see the food on the kitchen counters or table.
"What?" she murmured, shaking her head.
There were no kitchen cabinets either. The gas fridge and stove were gone as well. There was nothing, not even in the bedrooms whose doors stood open.
"What the heck?" her whispered question echoed around her, "this place is totally empty."
"Yes, it is," Silas said from his position at the front door, "we're out here enjoying the evening and a huge bonfire."
"You burnt everything I had," Cherry said, rolling to her knees and looking around, "what about the bedrooms?"
"Everything," Silas said, grinning, "you want to know how many surveillance devices we found in everything we burnt. There was a lot. I'm guessing the Tenderhooks already know you're here."
"Surveillance? Why would they be spying on the cabin?" Cherry asked, "I don't understand any of this."
"Then it's a good thing we found your father's books," Silas said, pointing to a pile of leather-bound journals. "It explains a lot and gives you a few pointers towards finding your heritage."
"I remember those," Cherry whispered, "picking up a small one on top. He used to write in these every night."
"Did he? Good thing you remember," Silas said, "I wouldn't have known. You're welcome to join us for something to eat. We're cooking over the fire outside."
"Thanks," Cherry whispered, picking up the pile and moving back to the sleeping bag next to the fire, "I'll be with you in a bit."
Silas nodded, watching her sink to the floor and stare at the spines of each book. Joining the others, he shook his head.
"She's awake, but I doubt she will be joining us soon," he dished up a bowl of stew and returned to the cabin, "if you're hungry, here's some dinner."
Laying the bowl next to the pile of books he left her to read.
Cherry absently ate as she read through the journals, following her father's journey by date and then being joined by her mother. The story was interesting, pulling a lot of memories from hiding and jolting them into place.
"I remember this," Cherry whispered, turning the page, "oh my ..." she continued to read, "it exists ... and not just in my dreams."
Finishing her meal, she placed the journals where Silas had left them and joined the men outside. The night sky was bright with stars, and a cool mountain breeze danced around them. It felt like a welcome home. The warmth of the large fire, still burning in the clearing, drew her like a beacon.
"Learn anything?" Tyron asked.
"A lot," Cherry smiled, "most of it was a reminder of things I already knew, but there was something new I have learnt."
"That is great," Steve smiled.
"Do any of you know where the Yukon pass is?" Cherry asked.
The three men looked at each other, silently conversing.
"Is that a yes or a no?" Cherry asked.
"We know where it is," Tyron said, "but no one from town has been there in years."
"Why?" Cherry asked.
"They never come back," Steve said, glancing at Cherry before looking away.
"What do you mean?" Cherry asked.
"The rumour is the Tenderhooks wait for hikers and kidnap them," Tyron said, "the last time it happened was two years ago. We still haven't found the family that went missing."
"That is ... concerning," Cherry said, "but I still need to know where it is."
"Why?" Silas asked, sitting forward.
"I think that is where I need to start to search for my heritage," Cherry said, "and my parents."