|
Episode
018
“He is very intelligent, but he exhibits,
“This emergency meeting of the World Alliance is now in order.”
Malcolm said, as he stood in Marilyn’s dorm room. Standing at her desk,
he looked out over the group as they sat around. Marilyn was by the door,
her arms hugged around her in one of her over-grown sweaters. Leaning
against the wall next to her, Victor stood, looking half bored.
Sitting in the chair that had been at the desk, Ruwani listened
intently, her notebook poised to take down any poignant thoughts that she
decided might need recalling later. Next to her, Tim sat on the bed.
Dressed in runner’s clothes and sneakers, he looked cold and wet.
Next to Tim, Alan sat with Kim in his lap. With Alan’s black
leather jacket on, Kim looked like a small child, but her sorrowful eyes
and shivering made her seem ancient. Meanwhile, Alan held her close, his
long hair falling down over her shoulders.
“Okay.” Malcolm said, wringing his hands nervously. “Okay.
Alright.” He looked to Marilyn, then back to the others. “I think it
goes without saying that this meeting is in response to the shootings that
have been going on.”
“Yeah.” Alan said, nodding glumly. “I’d say so.”
“Logical guess.” Victor tossed from the door, getting a look
from Marilyn.
“The point is,” Malcolm continued, his hands raised to try and
keep the room composed. “The point is, we have to do something about
this. We have to try and stop this sniper.”
“And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?” Victor asked
from the corner of the room.
“And why?” Alan joined. “I mean, we do have police for a
reason.”
“Guys.” Malcolm said, silencing the group. “The point is not
to try and go all vigilante and all that. It’s to try and help out in
any way we can.” He turned around to the desk, getting two rolls of
paper. He knelt down, throwing out the first roll, revealing a large map
of the city. He turned back to the other roll, throwing out the near-clear
roll of plastic that superimposed the shootings onto the map. “This is
where we stand.” Malcolm said, motioning to the map.
“Six shootings.” Alan said, leaning over Kim’s shoulder to
look to the map.
“Three shootings.” Victor corrected professionally. “Six
victims.”
“Four shootings.” Tim corrected. “Seven victims.” Everyone
looked at Tim. “I thought the one at the club counted?” He asked,
looking around nervously.
“I’d never thought about that.” Malcolm said, looking at the
map. “That does make it four.”
“So, does this mean the fifth shooting will have four victims?”
Marilyn asked, coming over to crowd around the map.
“Seems that way.” Victor said, standing over her. He rubbed the
back of her head as he knelt down with her.
“I don’t know.” Malcolm said, letting the others look at the
map. “But all I know is that we need to do something.”
“This is what I’ve got.” Morgan said, as he motioned to the
map with his hand. Edgar and Everett both looked at the map, looking at
the seven yellow pins. “The green ones,” He said, pointing to the
others. “Are where I think the next shootings may occur.”
“A circle?” Everett asked, looking at the map closely. “Come
on, Morgan. It can’t be that obvious.”
“Why not?” Edgar asked, also staring closely at the map.
“There’s more than simple geometry behind it.” Morgan said.
Edgar looked to Everett and they both stood up, looking to Morgan. He
turned from them, walking back out from the dining room into the living
room. He reached down to his coffee table, grabbing an old-looking book
that seemed larger than some bibles.
“Ever seen this simple?” He asked, opening the book. He held it
to Everett and Edgar, letting them both get an eyeful. The symbol he held
to them was a seven-pointed star, similar to a typical pentagram. Encased
in a silver circle, it sat ominously on the page, the very center almost
an eyes that stared back at the two knights.
“It’s called the ‘Sircle of the Brotherhood’.” Morgan
answered, when he saw that neither recognized it. “It’s the symbol for
a secret organization that’s apparently at war with the Illuminati.”
Morgan closed the book, watching the two dumb-founded knights.
No one spoke.
“Now I’ve heard everything.” Everett said, looking away.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Is it that hard to believe?” Morgan asked, prepared for the
cynicism. He looked to Edgar. “I know you’ve heard of the
Brotherhood.”
“The Brotherhood of the Sun?” Edgar asked. “Oh, I’m quite
familiar with them. They’ve been part of my ‘Mysteries of America’
class for sometime now.”
“What do you know about them?” Morgan asked. “What I’ve
been able to glean from these books is sketchy. Trying to pick apart old
wives tales and legends is hard work.”
“I can imagine.” Edgar said. He sighed, and sat down on
Morgan’s couch. Morgan sat down opposite him in the chair next to the
television set. Everett simply stayed in the dining room, paying more
attention to the map than to the conversation.
“To my understanding, they’re a group that was established
centuries ago, in Spain.” Edgar said, trying to gather his thoughts.
“As I’m sure it goes without saying, most of what I’ve gathered has
been hear-say and other such sources.”
“Go on.” Morgan prompted.
“They were an organization that started, near as I can tell,
around the time the Illuminati was getting it’s hands on things.”
Edgar explained. “And if what they say is true, they’ve opposed the
Illuminati for years. Centuries, even.”
“An enemy like that has to come at a cost.” Morgan said, his
own cynicism coming through in his voice. “They would have to have
exposed themselves before now.”
“Not if the war’s gone badly.” Everett said, coming in from
the dining room. “If these guys are small time, but hanging in there,
then maybe they’re still be around and fighting.”
“But if this is the Brotherhood, then why would they pull this
sniper stunt?” Edgar asked. “As I heard, the Brotherhood is controlled
by a Triumvirate, three heads who control the entire organization.”
“Three people?” Morgan asked. “That’s it?”
“The organization is broken up into several departments.
Research, security, investigations, etc.” Edgar said. “But the point
is, that if there is a Triumvirate, then they must have ordered this
sniper thing. But why?”
“I don’t know.” Morgan said. “All I know is that the
location of the four incidents coincide with the points of the Sircle very
well. Too well.”
“Still.” Everett said, his leather jacket squeaking as he
shrugged. “What do we do? This is all really informative and all, but
all I know is that we need to do something.”
“I don’t like it.” Aaron said, as he sat in his office with
Phillip. “I don’t like it one bit.”
“I does smell like Jericho.” Phillip said, sitting on the other
side of the desk, his back to the door. “It seems to just smack of
him.”
“Why?” Aaron said, sitting up. “Why would he do this? Why
now?”
“The only thing I can guess is that the Triumvirate ordered him
to.” Phillip said. “But I’m like you. I just can’t see them doing
this. It’s just, well, it’s just not their style.”
“Do you think maybe it’s a new three?” Aaron asked. He opened
the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of brandy, along with
two glasses.
“Not a chance.” Phillip said. He started to laugh. “I doubt
the three have changed since the dawn of time.” Aaron laughed also.
Phillip accepted the glass from Aaron and sat back. “I don’t know
though. I just don’t know.”
“Seven dead so far.” Aaron said. “A shooting every other
day.”
“That means there should be one tomorrow.” Phillip thought
aloud. “Wonder where?”
“I don’t know.” Aaron said. “I’ve sent my men off on some
missions. Once they get back, I’ll have them look into this. Until then
. . .”
“I’d watch your back, Aaron.” Phillip said, looking across
the desk at Aaron. “I know you’re no stranger to protection, but
without your boys to watch your back, Jericho could send one of his dogs
to come out of the blue and . . . ack!”
“I know.” Aaron said, nodding. “I know that all too well.”
He shook his head, sipping the warm brandy. He leaned back in his desk,
looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know, Phil. All I do know is that
we need to do something.” |