“Yeah, I told them, Bob!”
“It’s been an honor working with you. Vince and I are determined to finish this with you.”
Margo laughed through her tears at the gruff affection clear in the senior pilot’s voice. “Thank you, Bob. And you, Vince. It means so much to me to know you’ll help my family reunite.”
“Mom,” Meg’s hushed voice interrupted the minute of hopefulness and brought everyone to immediate silence. “I’ve got to go. I love you.”
“We love you too, Meg. We’ll see you soon. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. Goodbye, for now.”
“Just for now,” Creed added before the phone went dead in Margo’s trembling hand.
The bulkhead slowly emptied as everybody shuffled to their seats further back in the plane.
Margo and Theo sat side-by-side, deep in thought.
“Mom,” Evan smiled sadly as she blinked away her shadows of doubt and looked up at her son.
“Hm?”
“This is exactly what I saw one hour ago.” He sighed deeply, his shoulders hunched. “I’m not sure how helpful that part of my gift really is.”
Margo reached up and squeezed his hand gently. “‘Your talent is God's gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God. Just think about it, son. And please remember, I love you no matter what.”
51 The Originals 101
“I believe we’re all present now,” Donovan Arkdone began. “We’ll start with introductions. I have thirty-five metamonarchs on my team.” The camera panned slowly giving each face a second to be spotlighted.
“For those of you unaware, metamonarchs are both metahuman and Monarch slave—a powerful and exceedingly lethal hybrid. They will do exactly as I order, as any Monarch slave would, but the metahuman element enhances their advantage. They will fight with strength, intelligence and absolute obedience—to the death. Their pursuit of the objective will be single-minded.” He paused for dramatic effect.
“They are led by my most skilled and seasoned agent, Michelle Andrews.” A drop-dead, beautiful dark-haired woman with obsidian, starless eyes stepped into the camera’s sight.
“Dr. Williams, please introduce your teams,” Arkdone, ever the showman for the camera bowed slightly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce two teams to you. First, I fly toward our target with a company of nearly three dozen.” Williams didn’t bother panning the camera. He was enjoying the flinches and wide-eyed stares the image of his raw face was eliciting from Arkdone’s people. “This team is headed-up by Company Leader Kerry Braden.” Williams motioned for someone off-screen to step up. A hulking figure of a man with red hair, fully dressed in combat camouflage ducked into the seat beside Dr. Williams. He offered a sharp up-nod into the camera, eyes narrowed with shrewd aggression.
Williams tipped the camera back toward himself. “My second team is already at the Winter Ranch.” He puffed up his chest with pride. “Company 17 is made of another three dozen. Company Leader Rhett Hays has established a working base two miles due north of the target. A reconnaissance team has confirmed my daugh—” Williams stopped himself, covering his slip with a wet, phlegmy cough. “Meg Winter is at the ranch by herself. We know the rest of the clan is en route, though their arrival is still several hours away.”
“Our immediate timeline looks like this,” Williams screen switched to the presentation he’d constructed.
“Company 17 originated in Germany and arrived in Texas at sixteen-forty-five hours, U.S. Central Standard Time. The metamonarchs, coming from Kentucky, are scheduled to arrive at eighteen-thirty hours with the Senator—”
Arkdone’s cough was dry and deliberate.
Williams clearly rolled his eyes and huffed before correcting himself. “—with the U.S. Presidential running mate Donovan Arkdone arriving soon after his agents.” He finished with a disgusted expression on his skinless face before giving way to a series of sickeningly wet coughs he barely contained with a red, monogrammed handkerchief. Everybody on the call grimaced at the grotesque sounds, thankful the PowerPoint hid what was undoubtedly visually disturbing.
Williams continued. “As for myself and my second team of metahumans, we will arrive about forty minutes afterward. Right behind us, the Winter Clan, who originated in Cairo will land at approximately twenty-hundred hours.” He paused for effect before adding, “All times have been adjusted to include drive-time to the ranch from the various airports in which we are all scheduled to land.”
“Excellent, Dr. Williams. Shall we move on to the profiles?” the Senator prompted.
Ignoring his counterpart, Williams kept talking. “Group Leaders, I am uploading this data with the rest of the video dossier to your phones for reference.”