The Milestone Protocol Ernest Dempsey (best short novels of all time .txt) 📖

thinking through his answer. “Yes. Quantium, it seems, can explode, but not in its natural state. And from the analysis we’ve run, it doesn’t seem like there is anything in our reality that can make it do that.”

“What do you mean by our reality?” Corin arched her right eyebrow as she asked the question.

Alex exhaled, frustrated. “Right. So, let me go backward. No explosions by natural occurrence. So, you three were safe at Brown Mountain when you first discovered the cave. We had no reason to believe that the cave or any of the Quantium inside would have the capability to blow up. Okay?”

The kids nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“Second, yes, we were in Bolivia tracking down a guy who’d managed to accumulate quite a bit of it.”

“And that plays into the portal question,” Tara explained before another query could be made.

“Right. This guy was part of a secret society. You three know what that is, right?”

They all nodded.

“Of course we know what that is,” Diego said matter-of-factly.

“Well, I don’t know,” Alex replied, sounding a tad defensive. “I didn’t have a clue what secret societies were back when I was in eighth grade.”

“We’re in seventh grade.”

Feeling even more inadequate, Alex went on. “Fine. Seventh grade. Jeez. What are they teaching you guys in school? Never mind. You didn’t hear conspiracy-theory and secret-society stuff there.”

“Anyway,” Tara took over, “this guy believed he was going to be able to open a portal into another dimension, potentially a place with more advanced technology than what we have here.”

“And that’s why you said something about a portal,” Desmond realized.

“Yes. But we managed to stop it and blow up the ancient gate he was trying to use.”

The story took the air out of the car for a minute and left everyone alone to their thoughts.

“That said,” Alex finally spoke again, “there is no reason that a bunch of Quantium would explode unless there was a catalyst. Even with a bunch of it around, we don’t believe there is any way that could happen unless something else stimulated the blast.”

“That begs the question, who wanted to blow up the cave? If that article is correct, and there was an explosion in the mountains of North Carolina, we need to find out why and who did it.”

Alex didn’t know the answer, but he did have an idea. If things were going to get hairy, he and Tara alone might not be able to protect the three middle schoolers. Joe and Helen were more than capable. The two of them had their own dossiers packed with dangerous adventures. Even so, something huge was going on, and Alex couldn’t ignore the grating feeling in his gut that they were going to need more help.

While the others continued talking, he took out his phone and sent a text message to a new ally. “You in the area? We could use some help.”

The response came one minute later. “I’m in the 423. What do you need?”

Alex looked up from the device, pondering what to say and how to say it. He decided to be as plain as could be. “We’re heading to the McElroys’ place. Three minors in tow. May need an extra gun.”

The next reply was almost instant. “I’ll be there in one hour. Send me the address.”

25

Stockholm

Adriana walked confidently toward the motorcycle rental desk near the Stockholm airport, then abruptly remembered it was winter and hardly prime weather for riding. She veered away from the temptation and the lonely desk attendant who was probably not going to have any business for another five months and made her way to the car rental desk just down the row.

She paid cash for her rental, ponying up a little extra for a Jaguar XE, and after signing a few documents under a fake name she took the keys and her tactical bag and walked out of the airport into the parking lot.

Outside, winter slapped her across the face. Adriana sighed. It didn’t get this cold back in Madrid, or in Las Vegas, or in Atlanta for that matter. The sterile, dim yellow lights only made it seem colder. Their eerie, emotionless glow almost felt as chilly as the air itself.

She pulled her black winter Marmot coat around her and zipped it all the way up. The coat’s thick insulation almost immediately locked out the cold from her torso. Her tight jeans didn’t do nearly as well against the elements, but she would be in the car soon enough. Adriana pulled the orange beanie down on her head a little tighter to cover her ears as she continued through the aisle of cars, pressing the key fob along the way.

Eventually, lights blinked from a black sedan at the end of the row to her left.

She tossed her bag onto the front passenger seat, slid into the black leather behind the steering wheel, then pressed the ignition button. She thought something moved in the rearview mirror and froze for a breath as she waited to see if it was just her imagination or if someone was really there.

She glanced at her bag to the right, wishing there was a weapon of some kind in it, but she knew there wasn’t. She cursed the inability to bring a weapon with her but knew she’d be able to pick one up soon—or soon enough, she hoped.

Suddenly eager to leave the confines of the rental lot, she stepped on the gas and exited through the nearest gate. Once out onto the main street, she pulled up the navigation on her phone and checked the address for Magnus Sorenson’s place. Based on the directions and the map, it would take her around forty minutes to get there.

Adriana turned on the seat warmers to get comfortable while the heater slowly caught up and kicked out hotter air. The engine hummed under the hood, and she enjoyed how the car responded to her driving.

It was late in Stockholm, and few people were out driving, especially in the cold. Most were