The Guardian's Wildchild (12 page)

“Gracias, my friend. My name is Paulo Sanchez. What’s yours?”

“I’m Captain Waterhouse. Please call me Sam. My ship, the USS
Nonnah
, is in the harbor undergoing maintenance.”

“Oh, you had trouble in the storm?”

“Actually, we were quite fortunate. The storm was around us but didn’t give the
Nonnah
any trouble. It’s our engine that’s the problem. Rather old and cantankerous.”

“Ah,” said Paulo, waving his hand in the air. “I know all about old and cantankerous. These damned old bones.” He tried to lift one leg up off the ground. “You see that? All my parts are wearing out. Figure it’s about time I traded this bag of bones for a whole new set.”

“Uh oh, Paulo. And what would your wife say to that?” Sam teased.

Paulo winked and sipped his tea. “Well,” he whispered, “I think she’d be pleased. You’re married, Sam?”

Sam winced. “My wife died a year ago. Accident. I’ve got two young boys, twelve and ten, in New Seattle.” Sam tried to steer the conversation away from his personal life. “How about you, Paulo. Maybe you have grandkids keeping you busy?”

Sam and Paulo talked on into the evening. Paolo’s voice was calming, and Sam forgot about the time. The conversation drifted from Mexican spices to local soccer games, far afield from military structure and obligations. Sam laughed when he tried his Spanish on Paolo and used the wrong words. They munched on Mexican delicacies and savored a growing camaraderie. Paulo was wise and saw the humor in the simplest things.
It was incredible,
thought Sam — right from the very start, he felt at ease with Paulo as though they had known each other for many years.

A thought kept creeping into Sam’s mind.
Ask him
, the voice said.

No
, was Sam’s response to the shadow voice.

Ask him
, the voice urged.

No
.

Ask him
, the voice pleaded.

Why?
asked Sam in his mind, still carrying on a separate conversation with Paulo.

Why not?
replied the relentless voice.

“Sam, it looks like there’s something troubling you. What is it, my friend?”

“It’s nothing. I should get back to my ship.” Sam reached for his blazer and hat.

“I’ve been around a long time. Seen and tried most of it. Failed sometimes, too. I have a few regrets laced with many victories. I’ve enjoyed your company a great deal. Let me do something for you, Sam. What’s weighing heavy on your mind?”

“Many things, Paulo. I’m reluctant to spill my troubles and burden you. They’re mine to resolve.”

“Yes, this is true. I can’t take them away from you. But, perhaps I can shed a different light on them. Sometimes we get stuck in seeing things in a certain way. Give me a challenge, Sam. Let me see if I can lighten your load a bit.”

“All right, Paulo. In the last twenty-four hours a patient on my ship hasn’t been following any rule book as far as her physiology is concerned. She’d been poisoned prior to being brought aboard, and my ship’s doctor was unable treat her condition. He expected her to die last night. And yet, she survived. She also had a bullet wound that healed in less than a day.”

“She sounds intriguing. What do you know about this woman?”

“Very little. I suspect she’s associated with underground activities, perhaps even dangerous.”

“Ah, I understand your concern. You have a challenge ahead of you, Sam. I believe the more you understand her and her motives, the more you’ll find it difficult to find her guilty of anything, no matter what she did.”

“What do you mean?”

“She sounds like those who follow a path of the higher good in all they do and think, guided by spiritual forces. They become closer to the source of all things. They have great power, Sam.” Paulo held his hand to his chest. His head bent in reverence to the words he spoke. “There are many legends about these people. Thousands of centuries ago, our ancestors knew them as the Guardians. It was said the people in power began to see the Guardians as a threat to the stability of their economy and the government. Those in power planned to destroy the entire Guardian community. Guided by their wisdom and their connection with higher dimensions, the Guardians fled, leaving no trace of their escape or destination.”

“Why were they feared? Did they try to take power?”

“No, Sam. The Guardians had been respected and honored for their gifts of healing, for their wisdom, and for their reverence of all life. Those in power saw the Guardians as a hindrance to acquiring total obedience from the masses. Political leaders wanted to be the gods, to be the ultimate power.”

Paulo’s story was the most outrageous fantasy Sam had ever heard. “You’re not saying these Guardians truly exist?”

“You’ll have to decide that for yourself, Sam.”

“Okay, suppose your story is true. Have you personally ever met a Guardian?”

Paulo winked. “I’ve met one or two. If one becomes your friend, it will change your life. I promise you. Chances are you’ve walked right by one and never knew it. They live in total secrecy. They must. If governments knew of their whereabouts, well, who knows what would happen?”

Sam shook his head. He didn’t know if his friend was delusional or if his story was based on fact. If it were fact, it would explain a lot about Sidney. But it was just too incredible to accept.

“Who else knows about these Guardians?” he asked.

“The Guardians have revealed themselves to only a trusted few who are returning to their Guardian path. You see, we were all Guardians once.”

“Now you’ve really tipped the boat over, Paulo. How can I believe that?”

“The truth lies within you, Sam. You’re right to question what I’ve said. It shows your intelligence. What you need to do is to search for the truth within yourself. You’ll find it right here.” Paulo placed his hand over Sam’s heart. “You may even discover your Guardian heritage is closer than you realize.”

Sam felt a vibration travel from Paulo’s hand into this chest. It took him by surprise. Paulo lowered his hand and reached for his cane. As he stood, he fumbled in his pants pocket and pulled out what appeared to be similar to a quartz crystal. It easily fit in Paulo’s hand and was shaped like a main sail with hundreds of facets. As it caught the rays of the sun, it flashed shards of light back with such brilliance that Sam had to shield his eyes. Paulo thrust the crystal into Sam’s hand.

“A gift for you, my friend.”

Sam studied the gift. The crystal formations were rough but clear. In the center was a small, bright blue and green iridescent crystal — a crystal within a crystal.

“Paulo, this is too much.”

“No, it’s yours. The crystal has found its way to you. Forgot it was in my pocket until now. I’d been wondering what to do with it. Got a few of my own. Now I know why it was in my pocket. It belongs to you. Crystals do that, you know.”

Before Sam could respond, Paulo thanked him for a wonderful evening and said goodbye. He reached for his cane and slowly headed to the café’s exit. Sam gathered his belongings and tucked the crystal into his coat pocket. When he looked again to wave to Paulo and say goodbye, the old man had disappeared.

Sam took a deep breath. He felt disoriented and wondered if his time with Paolo had been a dream. Shops were beginning to close. The setting sun cast long shadows across the streets. The time was nearly 2000 hours. He was considerably overdue, and it was going to take another thirty minutes to get back to the
Nonnah
. It annoyed him that he’d been so lax. He wouldn’t allow his officers to be so tardy. His disciplined training had been overruled, and for a brief moment he wondered if he’d been under the control of Paulo.

The whole afternoon was becoming a blur, except for Paulo’s story.
The Guardian’s story — what nonsense!
he thought. He toyed with the crystal in his pants pocket.
Why does it fit in my hand so perfectly, like it belongs there?
He gave himself a rough shake and stepped up his pace, almost to a run.

Sam met Moon as he embarked onto the ship. Moon was obviously tense. After a salute and the standard officer’s greeting, Sam walked with the commander to his office in silence. Once there, Sam entered the code for his security drawer and pulled out the envelope containing the feather.

“Rhett, have you learned anything more about this?”

“No, sir. Actually, I’d forgotten about it. We’ve been busy dodging the admiral’s bullets.”

“What concerned the admiral?”

“You, sir!”

“Explain, Rhett.”

“Apparently he received a report that you were talking to someone in a café in town. After an hour had passed he called to see if you’d returned. He’s been calling every hour, and every hour he gets hotter. He called forty minutes ago spitting bullets.”

“Who told him I was talking with someone in a café?”

“No one that I know of. Reassured him you were keeping in touch with us.”

“Thanks.” Sam was relieved the commander had backed him up. “I’ll take the rest of your shift tonight.”

Coffee arrived just as the commander left. After a minute of contemplation about how to handle the admiral, Sam activated his comlink.

“Call to Admiral Garland, private residence, scramble gold code.”

Sam watched his computer monitor for the connection with the admiral’s video image. In a few seconds he saw the admiral seated at his home office’s desk.

“This is Admiral Garland.”

“Admiral Garland, I understand you were calling, sir.”

“Goddamn it Sam. You know what time it is? It’s goddamn almost twenty-one-hundred hours. Why the hell were you not available?”

Sam resisted being drawn into the admiral’s combat zone. “Admiral, sir, have you ever been in Acapulco? The city’s on a different time dimension. Things move at half the speed they do anywhere else. You should try it, sir.”

Admiral Garland glared at Sam. “Don’t get impertinent with me. You live and breathe according to my personal time zone, Sam. What took you so long?”

“In fact, Admiral, I was doing some research on our prisoner. I’ll have a report on my findings for you in the morning. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” Sam was in the driver’s seat and knew he was pushing the admiral’s buttons just a hair into the red zone.

“Fine. I want the report by zero-eight-hundred hours. You planning on doing any more research off ship?”

“No, sir. Concerning these reports, sir. I suggest that they’re sent directly to you. I recommend Captain Butchart no longer receive information on my interrogation of the prisoner, sir.”

The admiral paused. “Explain, Waterhouse.”

“Sir, is it possible the prisoner and Captain Butchart have a history?”

“You mean as in they know each other? Nonsense, Waterhouse. I’ve known Frank for nearly ten years. He’s as loyal as they come. You’re making a very serious accusation,.” The admiral shifted in his chair. “Captain Butchart is by the book, trusted with the safe keeping of all our military confidential material. If you have information to the contrary, let’s have it!”

“Sir, Captain Butchart is extremely anxious to have the prisoner executed. What’s he afraid of, unless she’s a threat to him?”

“Captain Butchart had orders to ensure the woman was punished for terrorism.”

“Admiral, we need to learn how she carried out her activities. We need evidence or at least the prisoner’s declaration regarding how she accessed the secure areas, sir. How else can we stop another incident? She had no help from the naval personnel on base. Give me a few days, sir. I’ll find out how she did it, and you can prevent another like her from putting the base at risk.”

The admiral nodded. “Agreed. However, Waterhouse, it’s imperative that the base security is known to be tight — no implications of having had any breach.”

“You don’t want anyone to find out the back door was left unlocked two days ago. Is that it?” Sam sat back in his chair, amused.

The admiral’s tension rose a notch higher than before. He looked away, perhaps reassuring himself that no one else was in the room. “I won’t tolerate any further insubordination, Waterhouse. If my guest has any concerns about base security…You’ll execute the prisoner the second, I repeat, the
second
you find out how she managed to enter our secured areas. And as far as Captain Butchart, leave him out of the information loop, for now. I don’t want to hear anything more from the
Nonnah
unless the ship has sunk. Understood?”

Sam smiled. “Yes, sir.” Sam was pleased to have created doubt in the admiral’s mind about Butchart’s loyalty. “One more thing, sir. The engine repairs are taking a little longer than expected. We’ll likely not be ready to sail to the next port until after midnight tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Captain Waterhouse.”

Sam knew the admiral was about to play his trump card when he referred to him as “Captain Waterhouse.”