The Quantum Prophecy - Ryan Matthew Harker (best management books of all time TXT) 📗

companions in the comfort of the station wagon they did so under the cover of full cloak so as not to blow their cover. The station wagon was only able to go so fast over the broken and rutted road but even so it quickly ate up the miles.
The devastation of the countryside was disconcerting to the six men, to say the least, but none of it compared to the squalor of New York. Even on the outskirts the destitution of the inhabitants was in evidence. People were dirty and dressed in rags; children were running around scantily clad or naked even though it was getting to be the cold season. Buildings were dilapidated; crumbling structures where people sat huddled together next to small fires under the scant protection of open walls. The few homes that were intact were primitive things cobbled together from the debris that could be found scattered everywhere. The spies’ hearts grew hard at these sights and served to further their resolve. If this was the type of world created under Harmony’s rule then the mad sorcerer had to be stopped at all costs. The world that was Earth had to be freed from this oppression and AnEerth had to be spared the fate of similar suffering.
Once New York’s borders were pierced the four visible men traded the station wagon to a peasant family, who were obviously worse off than their neighbors, for information about the safest, most discreet avenues into the heart of the corrupt city. So evident was the family’s gratitude at receiving this unexpected godsend that there was no doubt at all in the soldiers minds as to the authenticity of the information they were provided.
Before they set out the soldiers also appealed to the generous nature of these peasants for some garments they could use as outer wear which would help to disguise their identities. Still overjoyed at the gift of the station wagon happily were they obliged by these poor folk.
The sun set while the mercenaries navigated the twisted remains of what were once four lane roadways. Tol and Donin, always under concealment of cloak, broke trail for their companions and kept a wary eye out for any signs of the enemy. The team made their way slowly through the desolate streets of this once prosperous city.
They had penetrated deep into the outer perimeters and were preparing themselves for a final push to the mysterious tower known as the Empire State Building when Donin suddenly made his presence known. He turned off his audio damper just long enough to whisper to McIntovov, “It’s time. Tol has point. Sixteen goblins approach. I’ll follow. Move forward. Contact in three quarters of a mile.” And then he was silent.
McIntovov knew what to do. He tapped each of his comrades on a shoulder and through hand signals communicated the enemies approach. The men trained their gazes ahead and sure enough the goblins could be ascertained through the gloom. Nobody hesitated. The four visible men maintained a nonchalant pace, giving no outward signs that anything was wrong or of suspect.
The two parties met in the middle of the street. The larger goblin force had their weapons drawn and trained on the mercenaries. They surrounded them silently.
“I hope this works,” Stick signed. Nobody else moved.
One of the goblins broke rank and approached the protective circle the men had instinctively formed. “Who is your leader?” it asked in raspy guttural English.
“We don’t have a leader,” Hardim spoke up.
“Lies! They lie. Bah!” Whisperings and muttering were taken up amongst the goblins.
“Silence!” the spokesgoblin barked. It stepped closer to the four men eying them warily, nostrils flaring. Suddenly it turned toward McIntovov. “You! You are the leader. Do not deny this. We know who you are, mercenary trash!” The goblin spat out the last two words vehemently and made a gesture. Four goblins detached themselves from the group and grabbed the soldiers. Four more approached and disarmed them. There was no resistance.
McIntovov stared at the goblin leader and said nothing.
“Where are your denials now human?” It asked harshly.
Still McIntovov did not speak. His fingers moved almost imperceptibly but the other men picked up his message. Do not resist. Do not speak. Their silence indicated that they understood.
“You will not talk?” The goblin glared at them. “No matter, the Lord Master has many ways in which to coerce your tongue.” And without another word his troops began to herd the men through the streets.
Donin heard everything. Maybe this plan will work, he thought as he approached the spot where he had left Tol. Finding his cloaked companion with a skill born from practice the two men followed their ‘captured’ friends as they were led away.

*****

It had not taken long for someone to come and take Jeshux and Max to where Candlelite and Absinthe were quartered. Not five minutes had passed before a petite little blonde woman appeared and beckoned them to follow her. The two men did not hesitate and soon found themselves in front of a wooden door of medium size. Their guide bowed low and left them with two guards who were stationed to either side of the door. Although Jeshux was a mercenary commander and had no official authority he was recognized and well known by every soldier garrisoned at the castle. The two guards saluted him and one turned to knock on the door. There was a brief pause and then the door opened a crack revealing the silhouette of a man. The door abruptly jerked the rest of the way open and Candlelite stood there with a surprised look upon his face. “Max!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
The little scientist stepped forward and embraced the younger man warmly. “It’s good to see you kid. You look well,” he said.
Candlelite saw Jeshux from over Max’s shoulder and his eyes grew cold. “You,” he breathed.
“Hello Candlelite,” Jeshux spoke cordially.
“What do you want?” Candlelite asked.
Seeing the tension mounting Max asked, “May we come in?”
Still looking a Jeshux Candlelite stepped aside. “Sure.”
The two men entered as a beautiful young woman approached and took position at Candlelite’s side. Max’s jaw dropped and Jeshux raised an eyebrow. “This must be Absinthe.” The soldier bowed to the woman.
“I am. Who’re you?” Absinthe inquired curiously. She did not recognize him as Candlelite had.
“My name is Jeshux,” Jeshux introduced himself.
Candlelite inhaled deeply. “This is the man who hunted me.” He said the word hunted with disgust.
“Ah,” Absinthe placed a protective arm around Candlelite’s waist.
“Do you have anything to drink?” Max piped up.
“Are you Max?” Absinthe asked. When the older man nodded she said, “Candlelite told me he suspected you of being a whiskey drinker.” When he nodded again she smiled and went to fetch glasses.
Candlelite flushed a little and confessed to Max’s questing glance, “You have a little bit of a smell.”
Max followed Absinthe with a bemused smile and Jeshux stepped up to face Candlelite. Speaking firmly and to the point he said, “Look, I don’t want any animosity between us. I was doing my job and I couldn’t have known that you were friendly.”
“You could’ve asked!” the young man retorted.
“Would you stop and ask a werewolf if he wanted to be friends?” Jeshux responded smoothly.
Candlelite frowned as his own origins cast their heavy shadow across his memory and his shoulders slumped as the anger drained out of him. “No. I guess you might have a point.”
“I’m sure you’re aware of the reasons behind my actions,” the soldier stated. “I’m not going to ask if we can be friends but can we work together?”
Candlelite looked at the soldier thoughtfully. “Sure,” he finally said and shrugged. “But I don’t think we’re going to get much done. As you can see we’re not exactly free to move around much.”
Jeshux nodded his understanding. “Let us talk.”
“Alright,” Candlelite led Jeshux over to where Absinthe and Max were seated. They were chatting and Max was enjoying a tall glass of liquor.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Candlelite asked taking a seat next to Absinthe.
Jeshux sat next to Max and asked, “How would the two of you like to get out of here?”
Candlelite stiffened and Absinthe suddenly grew interested. “What are you saying?” she asked.
“It’s obvious that, for all of his good intentions, King Zakeriah has imprisoned the two of you.” They nodded and Jeshux continued, “I can understand his logic. You’re very important to these people right now but this is exactly why I can tolerate his approach to this situation only to a certain degree. If the two of you are the chosen saviors, spoken of in prophecy some thousand odd years ago, then how are you suppose to do any saving locked up in here. It’s not to our good to keep you here for your good. Get what I’m saying?”
“Sure,” Candlelite grunted. He was still unsure of all this.
“So what do you suggest?” Absinthe asked.
“A jail break,” Jeshux confided in low tones. “Plain and simple.”

If Candlelite was excited to be free of the castle then Absinthe was absolutely thrilled. They were traveling with Max, Jeshux, and the other mercenary soldiers that had come through the wormhole. The party was sixteen strong and making fairly decent time through a dense forest.
Moving on foot Jeshux had taken point and was leading them to an as of yet undisclosed location. He set a brisk pace that everyone was able to match with a semblance of ease. That is except for Max. When it came to the frail little scientist all semblance was lost. The old man was just not used to that type of exertion, or any other type of exertion for that matter, and after only a little bit of time had passed he was struggling to maintain the pace.

After discussing his plan in thorough detail Jeshux had taken leave of Candlelite and Absinthe, dragging a ‘slightly’ intoxicated scientist with him.
The plan was simple and surprisingly without much risk. Jeshux explained that he would have Max waiting beyond the palace gates, in the city with his men, whom he would brief directly upon departing from these rooms. He would then wait until dark, return alone, and incapacitate the guards. This would be done with ease and then they would be free to make their escape. There was one small flaw in both the magical and mechanical security devices that would allow this, they were all designed to keep people out not to detect people leaving. The only hitch with Jeshux plan, and there had to be one, was one of time. The only chance they would have to leave the castle premises without being confronted was if they left well after dark when most everyone was asleep. This of course would have been fine under normal circumstances procuring the ‘release’ of normal individuals but because of Candlelite and Absinthe’s rather unusual ‘condition’ this could create a potentially embarrassing situation should they be seen. Not everyone would understand having stumbled across a werewolf and a grizzly bear seeming to chase a very recognizable and prominent leader of a respected mercenary army through the castle. So herein lay most of the risk but it was unavoidable and would have to be left to chance.
Things had gone smoothly though. Jeshux had knocked on the door almost silently at fifteen after midnight. Not waiting for a response he pushed it open but did not step into the room beyond. He had mentally prepared himself for the sight he knew was waiting for him but he still reached automatically for the pistol at his waist.
The werewolf and the bear were waiting. At Jeshux sudden appearance the werewolf raised a large, wickedly taloned