“Excellent.”
“Sir, we’re on in seventeen minutes.”
Arkdone’s phone vibrated an alert. He glanced down at the device still in his hand. “Get Michelle Andrews on the phone,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir.” Roth scrolled expertly through his contacts and put the phone on speaker. It only rang twice.
“This is Michelle.”
“Michelle, how many guests have arrived?”
“Sir, twenty-three guests are here presently. The remaining dozen are scheduled to arrive in an hour.”
“Gather everyone and meet the last dozen at the airport. I want everybody en route to Dallas immediately. We’re going to the Winter’s ranch.”
“Yes, sir.” Michelle received the news with no show of emotion. She would follow any order with absolute obedience. He was, after all, her controller.
“We’re aligning ourselves with Kenneth Williams and his soldiers this once in an all-guns-blazing final showdown with the Winter family.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Needless to say, I want every metamonarch suited up, armed and battle ready. We’re going to be getting our hands very dirty in Texas. Also, we’ll be video conferencing in exactly one hour, fifty minutes with all parties involved. We’ll need to get the link set up for him, but then Williams will host—informing all fighters of what they’re up against.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll arrive in Texas in approximately three hours. Stay in touch, Michelle.”
“Always, sir.”
Roth tapped the end-call button.
The conversation had garnered Roth’s full attention. He watched warily as his boss approached. “Two things, Roth: First I need to be in Dallas in three hours. Make it happen.” He started walking back to the bedroom. “Second, set up a secure video conference to take place midflight. Standby for the participants’ contact info.” He walked back into the room buttoning a fresh shirt, a new tie tossed casually over his shoulder. “Have Ermos ready us for immediate departure.”
Roth’s brows furrowed, but he knew better than to question Arkdone. All he said was, “Of course, sir.”
41 It’s All Open to Interpretation
The family was slowly drifting to sleep after flying ten of their sixteen total hours. That’s when they heard her.
Meg’s scream of rage reached her mother, brothers and Creed simultaneously causing all four to leap from their seats and look around the space frantically.
“Did you hear her?” Alik cried to the others.
“Yeah, I did,” Evan nodded, running his fingers through his hair.
“Focus boys,” Margo hushed them.
Meg knew she needed to warn them and had thought of sending Creed a message, but her emotions were running so hot, her concentration so intense, she connected with her family all at once.
Margo steadied herself with a hand on the headrest beside her. Theo was out of his seat and reaching for her, worry clear on his face, but Margo wasn’t with him in that moment. She was with her daughter standing in the kitchen of their family home.
Knowing the others were terrified, the four started relaying Meg’s thoughts as fast as they could translate.
Everyone on the plane was on alert, watching the four people touched by Meg’s psychic connection.
“Meg upset,” Creed closed his eyes to block visual disturbances.
“She’s in trouble,” Alik growled protectively.
“They’ve bugged the house. They know she’s there alone,” Evan groaned fighting back waves of guilt.
“She believes an attack is imminent and is preparing for battle.” Margo’s voice scratched with emotion. “She thinks it could all be over by the time we get there. She’s warning us.”
“She’s throwing supplies on the kitchen table. She’s not going down without a fight.” Alik held his head in frustration.
“She wants to take out as many of them as she can to shift the odds in our favor.” Evan white-knuckle gripped the seat in front of him, feeling sick to his stomach at what was happening to his sister.
Meg ended her connection by sending waves of love to them.
Margo, Alik, Evan and Creed each opened their eyes and shared tortured looks. Margo spoke first.
“Creed, go alert the pilots. We need to get to our destination as fast as possible, and start warming them to the idea that we may have to land as close to the house as we can on a two-lane road in the country.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Creed nodded once, raced up the aisle and yanked the pilots’ cabin door open, nearly breaking it off its hinges in his rush.
“Alik, Farrow, you two get to work devising plans—start with a map of the ranch and use what we know of the enemy.” She rummaged through her bag and produced a notepad and pencils. “Start with us landing on that mile long flat stretch of road perpendicular to our gravel drive.