readiness to snap out another order. With a wave of Paul’s
hand, John levitated up off the concrete steps and floated through the air
toward them.
Capie marched over, getting directly in the security guard’s
face. “John, where is my father? Did something happen to him?”
“A moment, dear, please!” Paul calmly said, before turning
to John. “I froze him. He can’t say anything in his condition.” He waved a
hand. “In the name of scopolamine, sodium thiopental and amobarbital, may there
be an avatar representation of this man, to truthfully answer a few questions.”
A holographic ball of light materialized, swiftly expanding
into an exact visual duplicate image of John, including the handgun.
The real John’s eyes were bulging wide open, his pupils
swinging back and forth rapidly between the avatar image and Capie. It would
seem that he now recognized her.
Capie swung to the avatar. “Where is Dad?”
The avatar turned its head to look at her. In completely
emotionless tones, it said, “The ambulance left about five minutes ago. They
said that they would life-flight him to the University of Chicago Medical
Center as soon as they could meet up with the helicopter.”
“Ambulance? Why, what’s wrong with him?” Capie demanded.
“Looked like a stroke,” the avatar replied. “Two FBI special
agents came to see him, in his office. To talk about your disappearance, they
said. Five minutes after they went in, your father was clutching his left arm
and complaining about doubled vision. I called the county EMTs. I didn’t see
the FBI leave, but the ambulance took your father away five minutes ago.”
Capie gritted her teeth. “A stroke! Oh my God! Paul, we have
to see if we can catch that ambulance—”
“He’s not in the ambulance, dear,” Paul said, shaking his
head slowly.
“Then the helicopter—”
“Not there either,” he interrupted again. “Merlin?”
The ageless wizard materialized in front of them, wearing a
deeply worried expression on his face. “My, my, this is serious.”
“But—” Capie started to say, but Paul held up his hand.
John looked like he was on the edge of fainting.
“Merlin, can you scan the area?” Paul asked him in a steady
low-pitched voice. “How much magic has been used here?”
Merlin closed his eyes and held out one arm swinging it
slowly around in a circle. “Your portal to get here, yes. But two much more
powerful portals, both of them here in the parking lot, both from really long
distances. The energy levels suggest the second portal…yes, the second portal
was used for three people.”
Capie gasped and took a half step back, looking at Paul with
widened eyes. “The FBI agents? They took him? But…how did you know?”
“In Engineering, they told us that there are no such things
as coincidences,” Paul announced, his jaw clenched. “The FBI arrives and your
father just happens to have a stroke in the same five minutes?” He swung back
to Merlin. “Can you track the portals?”
Merlin sadly shook his head. “They’ve disguised them fairly
well. I can tell you that they go a long way toward the east southeast. Maybe
six or seven hundred miles. That’s the best I can do.”
Paul nodded thoughtfully. “The Washington D.C. area. Humph.
I’ve wondered now several times why, when they had their hands on me last week,
they didn’t portal me directly to Washington, instead of trying to fly me there
in a jet. I’ll probably never know the answer to that one, but I’m super glad
they did not take me by way of portal.”
“I don’t understand,” Capie said, frowning, shaking her head
and running her hands through her hair. “The ambulance, the stroke…you’re
saying that they faked that? But why? That makes no sense!”
“Merlin, could we talk to Uncle Sam?” Paul asked, eyes
narrowed in thought.
Merlin morphed into the tall strategist with the large top
hat.
John fainted dead away, his head sagging forward while his
body
Learning to Kill: Stories