|
Episode
127
“Have faith, my friend. There are more of us than you know.”
“Aaron’s getting ready to defect.” Jericho
stood before his window, staring out over the Solaritec corporate site,
rain lightly pelting the high-rise office. In his left hand, his phone
stayed next to his ear as he considered the future. “I can tell.” He
continued assuredly. “He’s trying to set up an opening for my defenses
to be weak here at the Solaritec site. Be on your guard. He’s dividing
his key men, which means they’ll probably make a break for it sometime
soon, probably when we try to send out the reactor.”
“That’s a noble plan, Jericho,” Came the female voice over
the phone. “But do you really think he’d defect right from under your
nose, this close to the completion of the fortress?”
“I know, Mint.” Jericho nodded. “But I do think he’ll try
and defect. And he’ll try soon. Be on guard.”
“I always am.” She answered back.
He was larger than Everett, with wide, thick shoulders and a
muscular chest that Everett often thought couldn’t exist in real life.
Dressed in a black suit with a red tie and leather trench coat, the man
sat across from Everett in the diner, considering the once-leader of the
knights with remarkable interest. “Name’s Arthur.” The black knight
said, finally breaking the silence as he reached across the table with his
hand.
Everett shook the man’s hand, never taking his eyes from the man
across from him. “Everett.”
“That’s quite a crew you’ve got out there, Everett.” Arthur
said, sitting back in the diner booth. “Seven knights in one city. I
know some pretty big cities that don’t have that many. You guys must be
a forced to be reckoned with.”
“We do what we can.”
“My name’s Vincent.” The black-haired college student said,
as he looked over the group of six. “While your leader is speaking to
Arthur, I thought I could take you to get something to eat and show you
around town a bit.”
“We’ll wait for Everett, thanks.” Edgar said politely, making
no move to leave from his spot in front of the diner.
“He and Arthur could be awhile.” Vincent tried.
“We’ll be fine.” Ledger nodded, not as polite.
The Liaison looked the six new comers up and down, considering
their change of clothes, now that all seven were in uniform. His eyes
stopped on Morgan. “If you didn’t know, a knight’s uniform is black
and red.” The man said, obviously staring at Morgan’s green shirt.
“I know. I’m not a knight.” Morgan answered back with steel
eyes.
Vincent’s mind seemed to halt. “Then, then what are you doing
here?”
“Getting annoyed.” Morgan answered.
“The reason to come to Louisville was three-fold.” Arthur
explained, his shaved head reflecting the light from the lamp overhead.
“First, was to confront the growing number of underground societies that
are talking about opposing the US government. Second, to face down the KKK,
which everyone knows hates the knights almost as much as the knights hate
them. And third,”
“The rally.” Everett nodded.
“You know about that?” Arthur said with a touch of surprise.
“Well, that makes life easier.” He took a sip of water and stared
Everett in the eyes. “Are you going?”
“The whole point of this event is to try and . . .” As Vincent
spoke, a new figure came up behind him. Also dressed in black and red, he
wore black leather pants and a silk shirt underneath a cloth trench coat.
With dusty blonde hair, he tapped Vincent on the shoulder, turning the
knight to him.
“Great.” Roland mumbled just loud enough for everyone directly
around him to hear. “The momma’s boy of the knights.”
“You ain’t kidding.” Armand nodded.
Vincent turned and headed off without a word, disappearing into the
crowd of people on the sidewalk. The man that had replaced him turned back
to the six in front of the all-night diner. “I’m Jason.” He said
with a bow, looking mostly at Sydney. He stood up and considered the
group, his eyes falling on Morgan.
“You must be the famous Morgan Brandywyne.” The knight said,
holding up his two fingers between his eyes.
Morgan didn’t respond. Jason smiled. “Yep. The non-knight.”
“That must be me.” Morgan finally said, his hands in his trench
coat pockets.
"I hear you're real good." The knight said, making small
talk as he tried to stare a whole through the former knight. "As I
understand it, you're the man to beat."
"Sorry to disappoint you." Morgan said without interest.
"I'm not into that kind of thing. You'll just have to keep beating
yourself."
“The rally’s going to be held under the club here.” Arthur
said, thumbing across the street. “Is your hotel near here?”
“No.” Everett answered, looking at the closed club with
apprehension.
“You might just want to hang out here in downtown then.” Arthur
nodded. “Most of the knights will start showing up in the next hour or
so. And this is a nice place. Lots to see.”
“We took the tour.” Everett said. He looked around at the
half-empty establishment then leaned in. “How many knights are here?”
He asked directly. “I saw thirty seven at the rally today. To my
understanding, there’s something like 150-odd knights in the US. A lot
lower than that should be. Are all of them here?”
Arthur laughed. “Who gave you that number? 150.” He chuckled at
the amusement.
“How many are here?” Everett pressed as Arthur drank his water.
Arthur finished the glass of water, then looked at Everett. The
knight stood up to the gaze, not backing down at all.
The door rang.
The six looked to their collective left as Arthur stepped out,
adjusting his black trench coat. He turned to them and held his fingers up
between his eyes, just before heading off with Jason. Even the size of the
large knight didn’t keep him from disappearing into the crowd.
“Okay, that was weird.” Armand said aloud after a moment.
“Who the hell was that guy?”
“Arthur.” Came Everett’s voice from the door. Everyone turned
to him as the knight came out, a strange look on his face. He moved away
from the door, holding it as an elderly couple walked in. Once they were
inside, he let go of the door and moved over to the far-most corner of the
diner, the others following him.
“So?” Ledger asked as the mob of seven walked. “What
happened?”
“The rally’s in about three hours, right over there.” Everett
motioned with his head, glancing across the street at the closed club.
“Arthur says that over one hundred and sixty nights are going to be
there.”
“A hundred and sixty?” Edgar exclaimed. “I didn’t know
there were that many in the United States.”
“According to Arthur, the FBI’s not nearly as good at keeping
tabs on the knights as they would like, or want everyone, to believe.”
Everett leaned back against the fence that separated the diner from its
neighbor of a bank. “According to Arthur, there’s a lot more.”
“By a lot more, how many are we talking?” Morgan asked.
“Guys, I think we should break up for an hour or two and go look
around.” Everett avoided. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I
need to cool off. Especially after this meeting.”
“What was so bad about the meeting?” Armand asked.
“That guy’s scary.” Everett laughed, looking at the youngest
knight. “Are you kidding me, man? I don’t think I have ever met a guy
that big and that intense in my life. Except maybe, oh, never mind.” He
turned away from the group. “Come on. Let’s go chill for a little
while, guys.”
Everett headed off towards the sidewalk, leaving the others.
“How many?” Came Morgan’s voice at his elbow. Everett turned
back to see Morgan walking just behind him, a serious look on his face.
“We’ve got to work on that sneaking thing, Morgan.”
“How many?” The former knight pressed.
“A hundred and fifty, right?” Everett said. “That’s what
the FBI puts the number at? Like on your file and everyone’s?” Morgan
nodded. “Well, think twenty times that.” |