Episode 136

                “First rule of sneaking. Look like you’re supposed to be here.”
                                Vincent Pierce, Crossworld: Resurrection

 

                Everett stood by his car, the flashing lights yellow lights at each corner of the beat-up vehicle keeping him company. On the side of the deserted road, only the sweeping waves of the trees in the strong breeze kept his attention. Birds flew down onto branches, as if curious about his presence, but once satisfied, they flew off, looking for something more entertaining to occupy themselves.

He pretended not to look down the isolated street a ways, at the gated entrance to the corporate site just within his sight. He sighed, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he tried hard to look pathetic and harmless.

 

                “Excuse me.” The young black man said, setting his briefcase down on the guard’s desk at the entrance of the corporate building. Dressed in a striking suit with red glasses, the young man looked intimidating even from a distance. “I have an appointment with a Mr. Phillip Assanti for two o’clock.” He said humorlessly.

                “I’m sorry sir, Mr. Assanti no longer works here, Mr . . .” The guard said, his gray security uniform straining under his big muscles.

                “Richards.” The young man said, handing a card to the security guard. Ledger watched the familiar steroid-enhanced dexterity of the guard as he took the fake card. “Is there someone else here of similar status that I could speak to?”

                “Status, sir?” The guard asked deftly.

                “Yes.” Ledger nodded. “It was to my office’s understanding that Mr. Assanti was a head of business management. I was supposed to work with him on some business solutions that he had requested.”

                “I see.” The guard said. He turned from the young man and picked up the phone. “This will be just one minute.”

 

                The whistled tune of Gilligan’s Island preceded the young man as he stepped into the elevator. He stepped back against the wall of the elevator, still whistling. He looked to his left at the old man who stared at him, then to his right at the two yuppie corporate types as they stared at him. He smiled, continuing to whistle, his Hawaiian shirt standing out against their charcoal suits.

 

                “You had an appointment with Mr. Assanti?” Asked the guard again. Ledger nodded, trying to play up his patience of playing down his annoyance. “Well, sir. Like I said, Mr. Assanti doesn’t work here, and I’m pretty sure you’re just going to have to make a new appointment.”

                Ledger nodded. He smiled at the guard. “That’s completely unacceptable.”

 

                Armand pulled his head to his left, the fabric of his repairman’s outfit pulling at his shoulders. He looked around at the empty elevator as it slowed, chiming the multiple numbers over the metal doorway. Finally, the elevator slowed to a smooth stop and he looked forward as the doors opened.

                Two Hand agents were waiting for him.

                “’Scuse me.” He said without hesitation, looking humble as he tried to squeeze past the two guys.

                “Just a second.” They said, not moving to let him past, trapping him in the elevator. “Who are you?” The one on the left clarified.

                “Donald Rhemsfield.” Armand said, holding up his ID badge. “I’m here to install a cable hook-up in an office here.”

                “All our data connections are done in-house.” The one on the right said. “Who called you?”

                “I, um, I’m really not supposed to say.” Armand tried, intentionally stuttering. “You see, I, we’re supposed to have this corporate policy about customer privacy due to the nature of some of the channels we provide.”

                “So you mean, a cable TV hook-up? Not an internet hook-up.” The one on the left asked.

                “Yeah.” Armand nodded, pointing to his Instant Werner badge. “I’m the cable TV guy.”

                The one on the left looked at the one on the right. “No one’s supposed to have cable TV here.” He said. The right one shrugged. The two looked at each other for a moment more, then they stepped back. “Which office?” The one on the left continued.

 

                “Sir, I’m afraid that there is no way for you to see someone right now.” The guard said.

                “I flew here, from Cincinnati, to come for this meeting.” Ledger argued, his voice subtly rising with every sentence. “And you’re telling me that the man that set-up our appointment doesn’t even work here any more.”

“Sir, you have to understand,” The guard tried.

“I don’t have to understand anything.” Ledger bit. “Can you get me an appointment with Mr. Assanti’s replacement?”

                “Sir, I . . .”

                “Can you? Yes or no.” Ledger nearly yelled, the volume of his voice turning heads in the Solaritec corporate lobby.

                “No.” The guard said, trying to end the conversation. It backfired.

                “Then why am I talking to you?” Ledger suddenly exclaimed exhaustedly. “Get your supervisor in here now.”

                “Sir, I’m afraid that my supervisor is . . .” The guard said, standing up in the hope that his height would intimidate the young black man. “Unavailable.”

                “Then get his.” Ledger said clearly, unbothered by the height difference. “Because I am not going to . . .”

                “Richards?!”

                Both the guard and Ledger turned their heads in surprise at the interruption as Errol came rushing over to the two. Dressed in a gray suit, his black hair blended well with the fading bruise on his face. “Hey!” He said, grabbing Ledger’s hand before he could recoil. “It’s great to see you, buddy. How’ve you been?”
                “I’ve been okay.” Ledger said, taking a moment to catch on. “I’m having trouble with my appointment. With Mr. Assanti.” He said slowly.

                “Oh, they got rid of Phillip. Really suddenly, too” Errol said, his smile just a little too big. “Hey, listen you doing anything?”

                Ledger took the opportunity to look back at the guard. “Apparently nothing productive.” He muttered with annoyance.

                “Let’s go get some lunch.” Errol said, putting his arm around Ledger and nearly pulling him out of the office.

 

                Armand got a running start, stepping up onto the car in the corner of the parking lot. Without a hint of hesitation, he took one step onto the car, threw his ‘cable TV’ bag over the wall, and then vaulted himself over the walled perimeter of the corporate site.

                He landed roughly, rolling from the long drop. But when he came up, Roland was waiting. “Nice landing.” The white knight said, stabilizing the younger knight and helping him up. “What was that? Ten feet?”

                “I don’t know.” Armand said, groaning from his impact. He stood up straight and looked at Roland. “Why’d Everett call us back?”

                “Were you really getting anywhere?” Roland lamented, as he led Armand through the thick underbrush around the corporate lot.

                “No. I had two Hand goons looking over my shoulder as I pretended to know what I was doing to install a cable TV wire.”

                “Yeah, I couldn’t get anywhere, either.” Roland nodded.

                “That’s cause you’re dressed like a corporate’s son.” Armand pointed out.

                “That’s the idea.” Roland said as the two finally stumbled out to the edge of the forest and onto the street. Without any traffic, the car in the distance stood ominously before them. However, even at this distance the lack of the flashing lights was obvious. And as the two knights neared it, they could see three figures waiting, not two.

 

                “Who are you again?” Roland asked to the man in the middle of the car. In his mid-thirties it seemed, he looked untrustingly at the four, but tried to keep himself as small as possible as Everett drove like a demon away from Solaritec.

                “My name’s Errol. I am the second-in-command of the North American Investigator’s Clan, directly underneath Aaron.”

                “Do either of you have last names?” Armand asked. Errol looked at the young knight as if he had spoken a foreign language.

                “Why’d you want to get out of there?” Everett asked, looking into the mirror.

                “The Brotherhood’s getting ready to go to war.” Errol explained. He looked over his shoulder, then back to Everett. “Listen, I know you guys are knights.” He said, his words drawing a silent worry from each of them. “But I need your help. I will give you whatever information you want or need to stop the Brotherhood, but only on one condition.”

                “And what’s that?” Ledger asked from the passenger’s seat.

                “Save my team mates.”

 

                “Jericho’s in charge again.” Errol explained, as he sat in Everett’s apartment, the six knights gathered around with Marilyn, Victor and Malcolm sharing the shock with them. “Somehow, he survived the Triumvirate and killed them all. Now, he’s pretty much in control of the Brotherhood. At least, in America.”

                “Is there any chance the Brotherhood from other countries could help you stop him?” Malcolm asked, looking down at the only person sitting in the room.

                “No one has the prowess to.” Errol said. “When Jericho came in, he pretty much single-handedly reinvented the Hand. No one comes close to his abilities at commanding them martially.”
                “Sounds familiar.” Sydney said, glancing at Everett.

                “It can’t be.” Everett said, shaking his head.

                “Can’t be what?” Errol asked, looking worriedly at Everett. “What can’t it be?”

                “It can’t be the same Jericho we knew in high school.” Sydney said, looking at the defector.

                “Same Jericho?” Marilyn said, looking at Everett, as he stared down.

                “You knew this psychopath?” Victor nearly yelled.

                “How come you never mentioned this before?” Marilyn said, verbally pushing past Victor as she stared in hurt surprise at Everett.

                “Well, to be honest, it just never really came up in the conversation.” He said, as if it was an apology. “Besides, I didn’t know it was Jericho, our Jericho, until after the sniper incident, after Eli told us.”

                Malcolm’s head turned slowly to Everett. Marilyn’s face went cold. “Eli never mentioned anyone named Jericho.” She stepped back from Everett, a fearful look on her face. “What did you do?” She breathed angrily, the rage in her eyes growing.