Geneva, Switzerland – 5PM
The Swiss Alps towered in the distance over Lake Geneva as Xander cut through the wind in full sprint, pursuing his mark. Thirty-five yards ahead, separated by a hedge, a man named Gregory ascended and descended the grassy knolls of the large greenway that lined the Imperatrice Way – a paved two lane street. Running along this lane, Xander saw Gregory reach the apex of another knoll, popping his head above the hedge – he was gaining ground on his prey with every stride, yet still separated from him.
Xander's eyes turned from the greenway to ahead of him, where a car approached him – head on.
The car will slow giving me an opportunity, judging by his deceleration we should be able to meet in 40 yards.
Xander quickly fished a tracking bug out of his pocket and nested it into the palm of his hand. His eyes found the spot where he anticipated to meet the car. As expected, the Sedan slowed upon its approach. Xander did not turn; rather he ran up its front bumper, onto the roof of the car and launched himself up and over the hedge. He descended on Gregory at the spot, tackled him to a tumbling landing. Gregory proved more elusive than he had thought, for he squirted out from his grasp like a wet bar of soap. Xander got up to his knees and looked down at his palm – empty. No tracking bug. Then his eyes raised to Gregory. Xander flashed a smile as he found his footing and continued his pursuit.
Gregory, now twenty yards ahead, scaled a brick wall and landed into a residential yard. He burst through an abandoned shed, which shattered at his impact. Unsure of how close Xander was on his heels he did not look back but rather sprinted to the back door of the large residence before him, flung the door open and ran into the house. Screams rang out in the kitchen as the intruder ran through the residence in a hustle. His eyes found a set of keys hanging from the wall, which his hand snagged quickly. He darted out the front door into the residence's driveway to find a beeping BMW, responding to the unlock button he was pressing on the keys. He jumped into the driver's seat, relieved by his impending escape – but he was unsure of where Xander was. He floored it to a screeching speed out of the gated driveway.
Then a thud sounded.
Xander was on the roof of the car. Gregory immediately began swerving the BMW, Xander flopped like a trout caught on a line. The wind broke across his face as the Beamer accelerated to high speeds. Xander looked ahead to see what lay ahead of them, it was the waterfront.
"Crank up the engines! I have a feeling I'll be seeing you in a minute," Xander directed to his wife.
Aboard the Santa Anna, Fiona Whitt surveyed the satellite feed boxes populating her laptop computer monitor. She was alone on the speed boat, docked in Lake Geneva aiming Southwest toward the Rhone River. "Got it! I see you approaching! You're only 50 yards from me," Fiona shouted into the comm so he could hear her over the wind cutting past him.
The road led out onto a boardwalk. The car gathered speed as it cut across a pedestrian's intersection and zoomed down the dock with a horse-powered revving. The end of the dock approached – the railing only 20 yards. Xander's grip tightened, bracing for impact.
The car smashed through the railing.
Splash.
The autumn Geneva water was bitter cold, as every pore in Xander's body snapped shut. His body toppled through the ice-like waters, first burning upon impact then freezing to the bone. Xander treaded water scoping the dock for Gregory who was on foot, running the other way. Diving out of the car before impact, he was able to send Xander off the dock. To Xander's relief he felt a deep vibration in the water and then he heard a low hum as a 20 foot speed boat pulled up to him. Looking down at him from Starboard was a beautiful red head with glacier blue eyes. Her smile wide at her husband's defeated position.
"Need a lift?!" Fiona asked down at him.
A fake laugh responded as he grabbed for the flotation ring. After climbing onboard, he shook the icicles from his hair. "Do you have him?" he remained all business.
"Yeah, I got him, good idea to tag him with a tracker," she moved over to her laptop and leaned over the satellite feed, "he's heading southwest, along the waterfront."
"He's running up the dock." Xander, freezing, disrobed his wet, slopping suit and threw on a pair of pants, shirt and jean jacket. He grabbed a pair of binoculars and scanned the boardwalk. Unable to find Gregory through the lens, he asked for an update on the tracker.
"Okay, now he is moving faster, alongside the dock, we've passed him!" Fiona yelled over the wind, cutting the helm as sharp as possible. The Santa Anna spun a quick 180, sending a tidal wave to shore. Xander aimed the binoculars straight ahead and found a boat speeding out to the sea. The thinned, salt and peppered scalp of the boat's captain, confirmed Gregory's presence.
"There he is! Get me close!" Fiona punched it and the boat churned the waters trailing them. The Santa Anna accelerated faster than Gregory's, smaller, less powerful vessel. It began to close in – 30 yards behind. 20 yards behind. The ship's floor began trembling as it cut through the other boat's torrent. 10 yards behind. Xander positioned himself on the edge of the boat. The Santa Anna pulled up alongside Gregory's ship. Gregory turned to see the other boat on top of them.
At this exact moment, Xander leaped as Gregory cut the wheel to peel away from the Santa Anna. Xander soared through the air, as his target pulled further away. As he descended he reached his right arm out as far he could and was just able to snatch the metal railing that lined the boat's hull. The rest of his body flung off, trying to peel his desperate grip from the railing. The water sprayed up at him and seeped into his grip. His hand loosened.
Gregory approached the marauder. Xander would have to move now. With all of his strength, Xander kicked off the hull of the ship, brought his other arm up to the railing and flipped himself over onto the vessel's deck. Upon his body's impact, Gregory's fist met him as he was down. His fists repeated their descent over and over. Xander kept a calm head as he surveyed the situation.
Gregory seems to be another hyperactive boxer type. All I have to do is wait until he takes a breath. All he is doing is tiring himself out. Xander's eye looked through his blocking fists to see Gregory's stance. He is weak on his left leg, take out the right – it's supporting him.
His eyes then found a rope tied to the mast with a great deal of slack. He quickly processed the architecture of the boat's structure and the physics behind how it propelled itself forward.
That could be useful.... The punches let up as Gregory huffed and puffed. Okay.... Go! Xander spun from the small of his back and chopped at Gregory's right leg with a sweeping kick. The kick cut out Gregory's stance and dropped him to the floor. His head hit the metal seat hard, knocking him unconscious. Xander flipped up to his feet. He wiped the blood streaming down his cheekbone from his eye, just as he saw Gregory's focus fade and fall limp.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Gregory awoke to the putrid stench of smelling salts, as Xander cracked them under his nostrils. He startled back to consciousness but couldn't move. As he surveyed the scene he was tied down against the railing of the boat. They were far off shore. No witnesses. Xander sat at the boat's helm and began speaking to his prisoner.
"Okay, Gregory, now listen here... I have tied you to this mast... As the mast moves, the rope will tighten. Now we aren't moving currently, but we are in fact aimed that way." He pointed westward. "As this is a sail boat with an engine, all I would have to do is punch this engine in gear and the mast will swing and take off your head. You are going to tell me what I want to know..." his eyes went dark, his voice dropped low, "Where are the scientists?" Xander probed the captive's eyes for answers.
There were none to be seen, so Xander searched his pockets to find a cell phone. He flipped through his text messages and found one to an unsaved number. The text message just read two names.
Henry Bosco and Caroline Keener
With no leads in the text, the phone number is what Xander honed in on. The phone number began with 404. Xander mentally searched his internal phonebook.
Bethesda's area code....
"Who are they?" Xander barked.
A gust of wind blew at the mast, tightening the ropes grasp on Gregory's neck. He gasped for a breath. Xander then slowly put pressure on the throttle. The boat began to churn. Gregory's eyes widened. The water below fizzed like a Jacuzzi jet as the propellers spun faster. The rope's grip tightened like a Boa Constrictor suffocating its prey.
"Who did you send these names to?!" Xander intensified. The whites in his knuckles covered the throttle. "Who are they?! Tell me Gregory now!" His bark was only muted by the growling turbines pumping beneath them.
With great difficulty, Gregory finally parted his lips and spoke through gasping breaths. "I will not say... Xander Whitt!" Gregory flashed his teeth as he snarled his name.
Xander leaned in close. "How do you know my name?!"
"Apollo is upon us!" He snarled.
As Xander moved close, Gregory planted his foot on Xander launching himself back off the side of the deck. His neck still tied, snapped on impact – his toes tapped the water, but bounced up as the rope recoiled. His body hung off the side of the boat, lifeless. Xander tried pulling the rope up over board to save Gregory for questioning but it was too late. Xander dropped the rope and Gregory's body swayed in the wind. He sat with a breath, as the questions invaded his head.
Bethesda, Maryland? Henry Bosco and Caroline Keener – who are they? How does he know my name? Apollo is upon us?
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