Shadow Reflections

By Doug Welch

"See without seeing, hear without hearing, speak without speaking and touch the infinite." These are the words that plunge the Jamestown Family into a maelstrom of danger and discovery.
In an old, strange mansion hidden in the Scottish highlands, Alex’s mind becomes trapped, lost in a formless void, one she must escape. Her Family is in terrible peril from the man who calls himself Nicodemus.
Will her unknown talent help or will it cause a greater catastrophe? Perhaps with the aid of some unexpected allies she’ll prevail, but will she have to sacrifice herself in the attempt?
The answers lie deep in the heart of a country hostile to Americans. The journey promises to be long and hard with no certainty of success. Nevertheless they must try. Mankind’s future is at stake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doug Welch
• Release date: Aug 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301179206

Doug Welch

Although I'm a retired community college instructor, I lived another life and acquired a wide range of experiences before my teaching and now author gig. I served the U.S. Navy and my country in Vietnam. I repaired robots and automated equipment in the aerospace industry. I was publicity chairman of the California Belly Dance Association for a while, actor in a motion picture, Manufacturing Engineer and Regional Chairman of the Society of Manufacturing Engineers, and finally Professor of Manufacturing Technology at a local community college. Name it, and I've likely done it.However, despite threatening to do so for many years, I'd never written a book. At least, until now. It's a lot of work. You really, really have to love it. Fortunately, (or unfortunately) I do love it and plan to continue it as long as I can type, scribble or speak.Stay tuned for more. (See my website,Facebook and my blog for new books.)

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 1

Like a freakish time-lapse movie of a blooming carnation, the red stain spread across Doctor Cramer’s white shirt. In what seemed but a few seconds, the white disappeared, leaving the shirt soaked in blood.

Cramer’s eyes flew open in astonishment. As the pain took him, his legs buckled and he collapsed on the steps, watching his life pour out onto the concrete. Trying to speak, his voice emerged in a faint whisper.

Oblivious to the crimson coating his hands and arms, Paris knelt to hold the doctor up. Placing his ear close to Cramer’s mouth, he tried to make sense of the words.

The clones, Cramer hissed. —hundreds of them. He gasped for air. They’re hidden... The end vanished with his last breath.

His final words chilled Paris to his bone marrow.

Convinced Cramer had been shot; a part of him screamed (Run!), but shock had disconnected him from his limbs.

The whole scene, from the first sight of blood to the doctor’s last utterance had been but a few seconds, but that was more than enough time for a good shooter. Still stunned from the suddenness of the attack, all he could do was cringe, expecting the impact of a bullet at any time. His back muscles tensed. A creeping sensation crawled across his shoulder blades. Finally, the insistent memo from his brain (Run stupid!) woke his sense of self-preservation.

Breaking his paralysis, he screamed, Shooter! Stay away from the windows!

Frantic, he combed the tree line looking for the source.

The front door burst open and Kitty emerged. She crouched in a firing stance with her automatic pointed left and then right.

Her amber eyes darted around the area. Grab some cover, Paris, she shouted.

She raised her weapon and cautiously advanced down the steps avoiding the blood around Cramer’s body. "You’ve got to move. You’re a sitting duck. Get inside."

He lurched up the steps as though his limbs were controlled by a spastic puppet master. Kitty covered his back as he collided with the door frame on his way into the house.

Once inside, Kitty slammed the front door. Taking a position near one of the large picture windows, she scanned the front yard.

Crouching low, Paris risked a glance out the window. Cramer lay supine and unmoving on the front steps, eyes staring sightlessly at the sky. The space of time between the muffled sound that came from the doctor’s chest and Paris’ flight into the house couldn’t have lasted more than a minute.

What happened, Paris? Kitty asked.

I don’t know. One moment we were talking and the next he bled out.

Elizabeth joined him and crouched below the sill. Her raven-black hair brushed his shoulder. Should I check him? she asked.

No one can lose blood that quickly and live. I think he’s dead. He must have been shot in the heart. He yelled in the direction of the common room. Kitty—Audrey. Scan the area and see if you can locate the shooter.

He searched for a mind-glow, casting his senses as far as he could.

I sense nothing, Kitty said. Whoever it was is long gone.

Same here, Audrey said. Are you sure he was shot?

At the moment Paris wasn’t sure of anything. As he relived the experience, Cramer’s injury hadn’t resembled a gunshot at all. There’d been no evidence of impact, just a muffled thud.

Scan again, Paris ordered and joined them. Although there were ample mind-glows in the vicinity, none seemed intent on doing him or his family harm.

Rising from the floor, he stood and looked out the window.

In contrast to the violence of the previous few minutes, nature seemed disinterested.

Sea birds glided long the shore, fishing for dinner and scolding each other. Waves crashed against the rocks eating away at the Corsican shoreline. It was almost as if the death of Doctor Cramer had never happened.

One glance at the blood pooling under Cramer’s body and flowing down the steps disabused him of the notion.

I need to get to him, Paris, Elizabeth said. There might be something I can do.

I doubt it, Paris said, but wait until I find a weapon. Kitty and I can provide cover.

He hurried to his bedroom and retrieved the Glock.

Kitty stood by the threshold waiting and at a nod, they both spilled out of the door and down the steps, splitting and covering either side.

Waiting until he was convinced it was safe, Paris shouted, You can come out now.

He heard Elizabeth descend, but he couldn’t see what she did. His attention was directed at the tree line.

Her voice came from behind. Forget about a shooter. Look for someone with a cell phone or a remote detonator.

Paris turned to see what she’d found. Cramer’s shirt was torn open and his chest was covered with blood. How did he die?

Elizabeth stood, her violet eyes focused on Cramer’s body. She hadn’t bothered with surgical gloves and her hands were bright red. He wasn’t shot. His chest exploded from within. There’s a wound right where his ribs end. I attempted heart massage, and all I could feel was shredded meat where his arteries should have been. I imagine his internal organs are just as bad.

He found a clear space on the steps and sat, looking down at the body of the man who still harbored secrets, secrets about Paris’ family. He could only speculate as to what they were, but they’d been silenced along with Cramer’s life.

Looks like the Borgias got in one last punch, he said. I think Cramer expected it. Before he died, he asked me to take care of his kids if something happen to him.

Kitty joined him, staring down at Cramer’s corpse. This complicates things, Paris, she said. If the Corsican authorities find out, everything will come unglued. We’ll be here for months answering questions. Questions we don’t dare answer.

Paris knew what she referred to, skeletons so secret they could never be revealed and lives which needed protection regardless of whatever laws were broken in the process.

It was up to him as The Family’s Adept to make the hard decisions, but he’d never anticipated anything like this.

What about the children? Elizabeth asked. We can’t let them see this. They won’t understand. They’ll have nightmares for the rest of their lives. They’ll think we did it.

Paris’ brain felt like mush. He still hadn’t recovered from the shock and couldn’t concentrate. He knew he had to shake it off and make some order out of chaos but it was hard. Forcing himself to think, he said, Kitty, go in the house and ask Caesar to come outside. We need to move the body and hose off the blood before it dries. Tell Alex to watch after the children and make sure they stay in their room.

After Kitty departed, Elizabeth washed her hands with a garden hose. It’ll be hard to make this look any different than it is, Paris.

The thought of approaching something as horrific and tragic as Cramer’s murder with dispassion drowned him with guilt, but the Borgia attack left him little choice. I know, he said. The Borgias must have implanted an explosive device. Maybe he suspected it. I don’t know. Can you phony up a death certificate? I know it’s a lot to ask but we’ve run out of options. We can’t leave him here. The children have a right to know their father’s dead. They’ll need closure. We should get him out of Corsica and bury him in Kentucky. He shook his head. What a mess.

"You’re right, it is a lot to ask, Elizabeth said. It goes against everything I’ve been taught or believe in. She waved a hand a Cramer’s body. Rodger’s injuries were one thing, but this..?"

Once we clean him up can you do something about the wound? Paris asked. We need to make it look like a heart attack or something. We don’t want an autopsy.

Elizabeth’s gaze returned to Cramer’s corpse. "I really don’t need to. His body’s drained of most of its blood and the wound looks like an incision a doctor might make to attempt heart massage. It’ll add credence to your heart attack scenario. I won’t have to lie...much. He did suffer massive heart failure and I did attempt heart massage."

At that moment Caesar joined them, carrying some large heavy-duty trash bags and long sleeved rubber gloves. Sorry it took so long. I had to hunt these up. His dark brown eyes opened wide as he saw Doctor Cramer. "My God, what happened to him?"

I’ll explain later, Paris said. Help me roll him onto the bags and we’ll carry him over to those trees. He pointed to some trees along the shoreline.

Paris returned after moving the doctor. Alongside Caesar, he stood watching the women work.

With the body removed, Elizabeth had begun hosing down the steps, being careful to soak the blood into the grass. Kitty found a scrub brush and helped by brushing the blood out of the pores in the concrete.

Elizabeth continued to spray the steps and the surrounding area, washing off as much of the evidence as she could. I haven’t any idea how the Corsican authorities report a death, she said. We’ll need some time to do this right.

Taking the hose from her, Paris scrubbed the residual blood from the rubber gloves and directed the stream at Caesar, allowing him to do the same.

How do you intend to handle this, Paris, Caesar asked. We’ve a body on our hands and no way to explain it.

I want you and Alex to leave as soon as you can pack, Paris replied. Take the next available flight to France and take Doctor Cramer’s’ daughters with you. Tell them he has some business to take care of and he asked you and Alex to entertain them until he arrives. Seeing the incredulous look on Caesar’s face he added, Or would you rather shepherd two hysterical girls through customs?

Caesar hooded his eyes and looked away.

I thought so. As soon as you can, fly to the States and take them to Kentucky. Find the best grief counselor available and ask him or her to break the news of their father’s death as gently as he can. Tell anyone who asks, he died of a heart attack.

Caesar’s eyebrows rose. "What will you be doing in the meantime?"

Paris waved a hand, encompassing the front yard of the villa. "Taking care of this. I’ll need Audrey’s help to change a few minds. I’ve a feeling it won’t be easy. We’ll bury him somewhere in the States."

Caesar glanced at Kitty. What about Kitty? Can’t she help?

She plans to leave when Rodger’s well enough to fly, Paris replied. I’ll have someone help me with Doctor Cramer. But we’ll all need to be out of here before the Italian authorities expand the investigation of our raid on the Borgias.

Joining the conversation, Kitty asked, Did Cramer say anything before he died?

Paris pondered his reply. Cramer’s last words had raised more questions than they’d answered. If his words were to be believed, somewhere in the world, hundreds of near carbon copies of Paris and his siblings lay dormant, most likely frozen, just waiting for a surrogate mother to give them life.

But unlike him and his half sisters, Kitty and Audrey, these modified clones possessed Shadow talents taken from Shadow Adepts all around the world. They included the most dangerous ability of all, the unknown talent that lay dormant in his fraternal sister, Alex.

And if her talent were ever unleashed on the world, no one could predict the consequences.

Chapter 2

Alexandra Rowan watched her son crawl to the couch and attempt to pull the cushions onto the floor. Stubborn as his father, he grunted with the effort. He’d done it before to create a nest and he seemed determined to accomplish it again.

Walking over, she picked him up and tickled his ribs until he giggled.

Let him go, Caesar said. I want to see him do it again.

That’s easy for you to say, Alex replied. If he keeps it up he’ll be into everything in the house. I’d rather not have to clean up the mess.

Bouncing her tiny menace on her knee, she addressed Caesar, Have you told Paris yet?

No. I planned to do it after I fed the livestock, Caesar replied.

Why wait? Alex asked.

Why bother? Caesar replied. Father’s sure to email Elizabeth. She’ll tell him.

You have a lot more confidence in your sister than I do, Alex retorted. Beth reads emails like she cooks, not very often and only as a last resort. She’s busy at the clinic and she doesn’t have the time. Tell Paris.

Caesar rose from the easy chair and grabbed Sanjar from her lap. He tossed him up into the air. I’d rather play with my son.

Sanjar’s eyes popped open in surprise. More enthusiastic giggles erupted from his lips as his father caught him.

That scares me every time you do it, Alex protested.

Caesar plopped him back on his mother’s lap. I’ll never fail to catch him, Caesar replied. Okay, you win. I’ll hit the Family Center as soon as I can, but I’ll have to feed the livestock first.

Alex watched as Caesar grabbed his jacket and departed. It had been six months since the Family’s assault on the Borgia’s biotechnology company and life had settled down to a sane pace. She’d almost, but not quite, stopped cringing in wait for retaliation. Paris seemed confident he’d drawn their fangs but his reassurances hadn’t calmed her. Her back still squirmed, waiting for the dagger to slip in and she couldn’t shake it.

Lifting her son in her arms, she walked to the kitchen to feed him. While Sanjar created a finger painting with his oatmeal, she sat at the kitchen table and thought about the email from her father-in-law.

He’d written to ask them to check out a letter he’d received from a solicitor in Great Britain. It seemed he’d been bequeathed a manor in Scotland but he didn’t have a clue as to who the relative was. The whole thing sounded fishy to Alex, but phone calls to verify the British lawyer’s authenticity had proved positive. Yes, he was a solicitor and yes, Edward had really been willed a house in Scotland.

Alex still felt uneasy about it, something nagged her, but Caesar seemed determined to check it out. Eager to show his son the country he’d lived in as a child, he wanted Paris and Elizabeth to go with them.

So far, the burden of legwork had been hers. Caesar had been preoccupied with the planting, Elizabeth with the clinic, and Paris? He had the whole damned Family to worry about.

Still, it might make an entertaining distraction from the turmoil of the past few months.

Alex had stood by Doctor Cramer’s daughters as their father had been lowered into a Kentucky gravesite. The girls were living with a nice couple outside Jamestown and they seemed to have recovered from the shock. Nevertheless Alex visited them whenever she could.

Her half-sister Kitty had finally decided to settle down with Rodger. Although Kitty’s version of settling down included nabbing a lot of criminals on the FBI’s most wanted list, Rodger was desk-bound. He could walk with a limp but his days of running after crooks were over.

Her other half-sister, Audrey was in school. At least Alex thought she was. She suspected Paris checked up on her periodically to make sure she stayed there.

Her half brother, Brian, the black sheep of The Family, lived in Jamestown with his father. Although The Family had grown to almost trust him, Paris still refused to confide in him.

A splatter of oatmeal lodged in her chestnut colored hair and brought her out of her thoughts. She turned to the issue of her now very messy son. Look at you. Did you get any of it in your mouth?

He looked at her as if to say, What? You mean I’m supposed to eat this mess?

Since Alex had undergone Paris’ Adept training, the mental link between her and her son had become an unbreakable bond. The deep love Sanjar felt towards her was so soul-shattering it was hard to live up to it. She was the love of his young life and she could do no wrong in his eyes.

"Come on you little squirt. I’ve gotta clean you up.’ She lifted him out of the high chair and carried him to the bathroom.

Washing the goop off his face while he splashed his hand in the water, her mind drifted back to the manor in Scotland. Something didn’t seem right about it. Edward had asked them to go and check it out. She was unsure about taking Sanjar to a foreign country, even a place as civilized as Great Britain. It might be a fun vacation, but it brought her and her family almost four thousand miles closer to Italy and the Borgias. It was an ocean closer than she cared to be.

Although the Borgias were the ones responsible for her birth and the births of her six other twins, they were mortal enemies. The Borgias had been the ones who’d killed Alex’s parents, caused Audrey’s rape, murdered Doctor Cramer, and tried to abduct all of them including their children.

Paris seemed confident as a Shadow House the Borgias were finished. Alex wasn’t as sure. Although she’d been instrumental in helping bring down the House of Borgia, she suspected it wasn’t over. The House might have a trick or two left in their arsenal and distance was a good barrier.

Plucking Sanjar from the bathroom sink, she sat him on the toilet and despite his squirming protests, dried him off. Carrying him into his bedroom, she diapered him and sat him in his crib for a noontime nap. He didn’t seem to want to sleep. He grabbed the bars of the crib and tried to stand up, looking like he was demanding a computer tablet to check his stock portfolio.

Although she’d stopped breastfeeding him a few weeks ago, he still pawed at her chest. She’d caved in a few times, but it was time he learned to take a bottle. Using her mind in an attempt to calm him, she was careful because sensing his essence frequently brought her to tears. It was mesmerizing, overwhelming in its brilliance, so much so it devastated her.

As people grew older they developed defenses to shield themselves from freely expressing their emotions for fear of rejection. Her son had not yet erected those barriers. Experiencing his blast of unfettered love was hard to accept. Surely no one ever deserved such affection, but she was his mother. Sanjar had no doubts she was there to protect him and nourish him. It was a given, an absolute is his young life.

Having sensed it, Alex wondered what people lost as they grew older.

In terms of love she’d been lucky with Caesar, a fact which he frequently proved to her, and she returned in equal measure.

Lucky in love alright, but life has yet to prove itself, she thought.

* * *

Paris read the recent email from Dani Karalla, the CEO of his new Italian company.

Although loaded with code words designed to disguise the post as a business matter, the mail contained good news. The Borgias had retrenched, selling many of their investments to try to make up for the shortfall — a lack of money Paris had instigated.

Many of the investments they’d shed were in biotechnology. If they kept divesting their assets at this current rate, it would derail their plans to clone more of his twins.

The Shadow Council had been another matter. Although Paris had acted quickly and in secret, they had no doubt as to who was behind the raid on the Borgia compound. At first, some of the Council members had threatened the Family with extinction. But with Grieg Pearson, the Adept leader of the powerful North American-Canadian Association blocking them, the furor had died.

Shadows were genetic cowards and shied away from direct confrontations. The fact the Borgia House had tried to abduct his daughter had swayed other unaligned Houses to take his side. In truth, he imagined many of them had jettisoned a lot of stress when the Borgias collapsed.

He wouldn’t let his guard down though. The Borgias were like a half-dead poisonous snake, immobile, but likely to sink their fangs in a victim when his back was turned.

Paris heard a knock on his office door. It opened and Tom Bradley peeked in.

You busy, Paris? Tom asked.

Not for you, Paris replied. What’s up?

Tom walked over and plopped his large frame down on one of the plush chairs in front of Paris’ desk. The chair almost couldn’t contain his bulk. He grabbed the long black hair which was trapped between his back and the seat and freed it, draping it over his shoulder. Got a favor to ask, he said.

Paris leaned his elbows on his desk and propped his chin up with folded hands. Let me guess, Dani Karalla?

You got it, Tom replied. She’s asked me to come to Italy and I want to go. He toyed with his pony tail, waiting for Paris’ response.

Paris didn’t blame Tom for wanting to leave. In addition to courage and smarts, Dani had to be the most beautiful woman in Italy. How long will you be gone? he asked.

As long as she can tolerate me. Maybe forever if I’m lucky, Tom replied.

That serious is it? Paris asked.

Multiply you and Beth by ten and you’ll get an idea, he replied. I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t give it a try. There’s just one catch. I don’t want to leave the Family.

You won’t, Paris said. You can help me monitor the Borgia House. You’ll be working in Italy for our Italian company and you’ll still be a part. That makes Dani your boss, you know.

Tom shrugged. We’ll keep it out of the office. He remained quiet for a moment. What about Bernardo? I think he wants to go with me.

Paris shook his head in negation. Not a chance. They’d kill him the moment he set foot on Italian soil. He knows too much for them to allow him to live. Besides, with you gone I’ll need him here.

Bernardo was a computer genius, a smaller version of Tom but without Tom’s booming voice and garrulous nature. Paris had rescued Bernardo in Italy and brought him to Kentucky.

Tom nodded. I thought so, but I thought I’d ask. He’s home with the flu.

I’ll talk to him, Paris said. When will you be leaving?

As soon as I can tie things up, mainly the band.

Paris knew Tom played for a rock and roll band as a bass guitarist. He’d been with them for years and quitting wouldn’t be easy.

Before you go, Paris said, there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss.

Fire away, Tom said.

When you and Bernardo were fishing around in the Borgia’s mainframe computer did you happen to capture any documents?

We downloaded a lot, Tom said. What’re you looking for?

Paris shrugged. Offhand, I don’t know, but I’ll know it when I see it.

Tom sighed. Since we didn’t know what was valuable we took everything. It’s a shit load of data. It would take months to sift through it.

Well, while you’re in Italy I need you to make the effort, Paris said. I imagine a lot of it’s in Italian and Dani can help. I trust you to know what’s important. Paris stood behind the desk and offered his hand. Good luck, Tom. She’s an incredibly beautiful woman. I hope you two make it.

Tom shook it. Lightening does strike sometimes. Maybe I’ll get a bolt my way.

Paris waited until Tom departed and sat back down. Swiveling his chair to look out the window at Jamestown, he thought about the email from his father-in-law, Edward.

A vacation in the United Kingdom might be just what the four of them needed. The Scottish manor was sited near a loch in the Scottish highlands far away from everything, including antagonistic Shadows. In such isolated seclusion they could relax and enjoy life.

With Kitty and Audrey on call as Adept seconds, Dan Simmons could manage the Family while they were gone. Dan’s Adept talents had shown promise after Paris trained him although he wasn’t as powerful as the others. It could work.

In truth he was excited about the prospect of exploring the Scottish countryside, not to mention a loch. It wasn’t Loch Ness but there might be a monster