Brothers 5 - Midnight Rendezvous: Midnight Rendezvous

By Mark J. Lay

Quintuplet brothers were taken from their family when they were too young to remember and put through an experiment that unlocked dormant superhuman genes and gave them superhuman abilities. Now, years later as teenagers, the brothers use their abilities along with other fields of training to take on missions given to them by the organization that changed them and to help good people in need.


Besides their missions, the usual daily routines of the five brothers are altered when they come across a young homeless girl needing their help to save those she loves from an evil gang of bikers using the girls people as slaves for their schemes. The brothers know they have the power to help, so how can they not?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 2, 2010
• ISBN: 9781462825974

Mark J. Lay

Born in Northern California then moving to North-East Iowa after eleven years, I found when I was really young that I have an over active imagination and a strong ability to tell a story for entertainment purposes. People write what they know so I write stories with a Sci-Fi/ Fantasy base as Ive always been fascinated with the supernatural. I still reside in North-East Iowa, writing, imagining, and working in retail.

Book preview

Brothers 5—

Midnight Rendezvous

Midnight Rendezvous

Mark J. Lay

Copyright © 2010 by Mark J. Lay

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

80164

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

DEDICATION

I wish to dedicate this story to my father, Gene Lay, who taught me that most anything is possible with enough faith and determination. Like the rest of my family, and my friends as well, my father knew that I have the creative skill to tell a tale that was as thought-provoking as it was entertaining. He fought until the very end to fulfill his dream of beating the sickness that finally overpowered his body, and that has encouraged me to battle for my dream. He may not be here physically to enjoy the published book, but I know he’s here in spirit with a huge smile on his face. This is for you, Dad.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my family and friends for their never ending support and ideas as I went about creating this story. Even when writer’s block and questions of references and material had me doubting the story’s completion, those I love were there to encourage me to continue and gave whatever help they could. Obviously EVERYONE helped, even if it was only in moral support, but I must especially thank my mother, Vel Lay, and my sister Andrea Springer for helping me to acquire the small details, and often enough the bigger details, when I couldn’t on my own. Thanks to everyone, hopefully you all will enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Prologue

Streetlamps cast glimmering, cool light over its shadowy surroundings as a black Lincoln and a white van drove into the quiet suburban neighborhood, then pulled over and parked in front of a dark, old house that was said to have been abandoned for the last ten years. The faint light from the streetlamps showed placid white houses, most with either gray or light blue trim. There were newly mowed lawns, and some of the front yards had tricycles or bicycles and other assortments of toys where children had played during the day and more then likely planned to come back to their games when day came back.

These houses were not the reasoning for the Lincoln and van’s arrival. The house across the street from where they parked was their destination. The side door of the van opened up and out came two clean cut, dark-haired men wearing black suits, black trench coats, and black gloves. One of the men pointed at the Lincoln with two fingers to signal wait, and then he and his partner walked across the street to the house of their trajectory.

The man who had not signaled to the Lincoln first knocked on the front door three times and then rang the doorbell. They stood calmly staring at the door for about five minutes, and then a light in the hall finally came on. A man with dark hair, partially messed up from sleeping, wearing a brownish-orange bathrobe and looking slightly groggy-eyed answered the door. He saw the two men and at once became fully awake.

You! He whispered a look of shock on his face.

Did you really think you could get away from us? The man who had signaled the Lincoln sneered.

Easy, The man’s partner said. Then he said calmly to the owner of the house. All that we want is to talk to you and your wife.

The owner of the house’s look changed from shock to fury. I know damn well what you want you son-of-a-bitch, the man hissed. I want you two to get the hell out of here and never come back or I’ll call the police.

The man’s sneer widened.

That won’t be necessary, His partner said remaining calm. If we could just talk to you and your wife . . .

GET OUT OF HERE! Their quarry bellowed and slammed the door in their faces. The sneering man’s sneer faded to a look of venom as he stopped the door from closing all the way, pushed it back open.

I’m afraid we can’t do that, his partner said as they followed the shocked man into his house. The shocked man was just pulling a pistol out of a drawer of a desk in the hallway. The man with the venomous look grabbed him and threw him into the edge of a doorway on the left side of the hallway which appeared to lead into a darkened living room.

The owner of the house grunted and kneed his pursuer in the chest before slamming the guy’s back with both his fists. His opponent grunted before crashing to the floor and the owner turned to the second man.

The second man had been studying a staircase at the far end of the hallway when he heard his partner fall, and in the blink of an eye, he pulled out a pistol of his own and pointed it at the other man. His foe stopped dead in his tracks, hesitant on what he should do.

We tried to be nice, calm adults and talk things through, the second man said with a disappointed voice. Then he shot two rounds into his foe’s chest and the man fell on his back dead. The second man’s partner climbed to his feet, dusting himself off and cursing the minimal pain he felt from the man’s blows.

There was a sudden wailing scream that carried a wave that almost knocked both men off of their feet and the two men looked up to see the owner’s wife at the top of the stairs seeing her dead husband lying on the floor.

The woman was literally a split second from using her sonic scream on the intruders with more force this time when, without hesitation, the man with the pistol fired at her as well. Two rounds hit her in the chest and she hit the wall and bounced back falling down a few of the stairs before coming to a stop, blood starting to trickle down the white nightgown she wore. No remorse came from the two men. The man who had had the pistol headed to the front door; his partner headed up the stairs, past the newly dead woman, to the second floor to look around.

The pistol-carrier stood out the front door and gave the Lincoln and white van the two-fingered signal once more. Four more men got out of the Lincoln, two more got out of the van. All headed toward and into the house led by the first man. They headed to the stairs and ascended them to the second floor. The second man was waiting for them outside a room on the right side of the hall as they walked into the hall.

The quintuplets are in here, the second man said, and the seven followed him in.

Chapter 1

Two men sat in a large, rounded conference room at a polished oak table. The smell of Pine-Sol and the soft gray cushioned chairs that they sat on filled the air in a quiet hush. One of them was a scientist wearing a dark-blue business jacket and navy-blue dress slacks over a plain white dress shirt and navy-blue tie. He had dark hair that was going to gray and deep-blue eyes set behind glasses with an oval-lens. His ID pass on his business jacket read Dr. Jackson Hammond. Along with Dr. Hammond was a man wearing a general’s uniform with slick dark hair parted on the right and green eyes with a hawk’s stare. His own ID pass identified him as General Jonathan Harold.

A TV on a stand sat before Dr. Hammond and General Harold. As the two watched, they were presented with a view of a score of fire entirely obliterating a stack of timber on a raft in the middle of a small wading pool. A large flow of water doused out the flames before the enflamed mass could sink under the water, leaving only blackened smoking wood as remains.

Incredible, General Harold said staring at the TV screen in awe. He can do this every time?

His skills, like the others, are refining every day, Dr. Hammond said satisfied, and smiled as a series of lightning bolts sent large metal containers flying into oblivion.

Fascinating, the general said.

Next the screen showed a large boulder floating swiftly and then crashing into a set up brick wall, smashing the wall and itself into chunks of cement, brick, and rock. Then the tape showed a boy about nine or ten staring at a scared looking man in gray coveralls. Scared, he was, because he was holding scalding hot coals that he seemed unable to release.

Those coals must be awfully hot, the boy was saying using a British English accent. Why don’t you let go of them? The man graciously let go of the coals and was automatically escorted out of the room by two armed guards.

The tape ended and General Harold stared at the blank screen deep in thought. Finally, he looked Dr. Hammond in the eye. They were how old when this testing took place?

It was about seven years ago so they were ten, Dr. Hammond replied. The experiment before that was eleven years ago when they were six.

So they’re seventeen now? General Harold confirmed. They’re remarkable.

There was a sudden knock at the door and a man dressed in khakis and a forest-green dress shirt with dishwater blonde hair strolled into the conference room and stood at the other end of the oak table with his hands clasped behind his back.

Ah, the man we refer to as Mr. Staursyde! Dr. Hammond said getting up, coming around the table to the man called Mr. Staursyde and shaking his hand. Do you know General Harold?

By reputation only, Mr. Staursyde said, shaking hands with the general when the general joined them. I believe you gave the orders to the group that went and got the Team.

The team? General Harold asked.

The quintuplets, Mr. Staursyde said.

Yes, the general agreed, I understand that you’ve been the main guidance for them since they were very young. It must be very fascinating working with them.

Other then their gifts, they’re just normal teenage boys, Mr. Staursyde replied, looking at Dr. Hammond for help.

They will never be just normal, Dr. Hammond said matter-of-factly. Not with their gifts and the side effects of the experiments.

Side effects? General Harold inquired.

I believe Dr. Hammond is referring to their accents, Mr. Staursyde replied looking to the scientist for confirmation.

That is indeed correct, Dr. Hammond agreed.

Side effects? General Harold said confused. "Their accents? I was under the impression . . . ."

That nothing at all went wrong with the experiment that unlocked their dormant mutant genes? Dr. Hammond said trying to finish the general’s train of thought. Unfortunately, there was the one side effect . . . .

General Harold looked at Dr. Hammond for a moment