This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
March 22, 2137
Sector 13 of the Former United States
Simon Jahaz remained silent as Mr. Hanks led an armed four-man fire team, escorting him off board the mobile interrogation shuttle. The spring humidity hung with an accompanying stench from decades of global warming, not to mention, the short-lived temporal wars.
“Eco One Leader to Home Office,” Mr. Hanks tapped the side of his neck. “Sector Thirteen, on the move to Surgical Prep.”
Oh, baby, I miss you, Jahaz opened his eyes. Memories of Woelinam, that sweet, young woman from the Gold Coast 666 years in the past, filled his heart with memories.
“You know she’s dead, right?” Mr. Hanks smirked. “Has been for centuries now, innit.” The Mammoth contractor reminded this time manipulator of the harsh reality of his West African lover, wife to be.
Jahaz just quietly stared at the interior roof of the huge hanger sized warehouse as Mammoth security pushed his gurney down the ruins of what once was Washington, D.C., plotting his next move. Shit wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.
“Two and Three, take up flanking positions,” Mr. Hanks ordered two of the fire team members. “One, stay on point. Four, secure the package.”
“Roger that, sir,” all four of them nodded in unison as Number 4 continued to push the gurney.
“Any last request, Simon?” Mr. Hanks looked down at Jahaz.
“How ’bout a breath mint?”
“Are you serious?”
“Not for me, fucker.”
Number 1 held up a left fist, notifying them to stop, then looked over his shoulder at Mr. Hanks.
“Good thinking,” Mr. Hanks nodded as he activated a small drone from beneath the gurney. “Drone out,” the mercenary gave verbal commands to conduct recon of the former Mobile Army Surgical Hospital about 100 meters of their position.
Although this MASH facility sustained damage over the years due to civil unrest from these American Third World thugs, Mr. Hanks didn’t have much of a choice. Home Office agreed with his decision to surgically remove the nuclear-powered mini time tumbler from Simon Jahaz’s spinal cord thousands of miles away across the Atlantic Ocean, safe from Ghanaian shores.
“Having second thoughts?” Jahaz said.
“Told you it was nuclear.”
“Won’t stop us from prying the bloody thing from your body, now will it?”
“If the explosion doesn’t kill you, the radiation certainly will.”
“That’ll be enough from you,” Mr. Hanks punched Jahaz in the mouth.
“You still hit like a bitch,” Jahaz said.
“Contact!” Number 1 shouted a nano second before a blue light stunned his body limp to the ground.
“Contact!” the remaining fire team members yelled in unison.
“Move him to cover now!” Mr. Hanks ordered Number 4.
“Tried to warn you,” Jahaz said. “Now it’s your ass.”
“Bloody Yanks,” Mr. Hanks shook his head.
“Your man’s just stunned.”
“She’s come for me.”
“I said shut up!”
“Release him now,” Simon Jahaz recognized the familiar voice. “And I promise you won’t be harmed!”
“Is that who I think it?” Mr. Hanks couldn’t believe the hologram before his eyes.
“Oh, yeah,” Jahaz nodded. “My baby sister.”
“But that’s bloody impossible.”
“Let me go, and live to tell about it.”
“Shut up, you,” Mr. Hanks watched his Number Two fire team member illuminate blue before dropping unconscious. “Tasneem Jahaz is dead. I shot her myself.”
“Yet, here the fuck we are,” Simon Jahaz yanked his restrained wrists. “Now let me off of this gurney.”
“ARRGH!” Number Three team member just got stunned.
“You want your brother, Tasneem?” Mr. Hanks aimed his pulse rifle at Simon Jahaz’s skull. “Come and get him.”
“Hanks, you’re outnumbered,” Tasneem’s hologram moved alongside the mercenary.
“And I’ll blow his head clean off before handing him over.”
“This is your last warning.”
“Sir!” Number Four team member’s spine felt that blue light jerk his body, knocking him out.
“C’mon, Hanks,” Jahaz locked eyes with his now lone captor. “You’ve got nowhere to go.”
“And you do?” Mr. Hanks nudged the barrel of his rifle into his prisoner’s left temple.
“Any day now,” Jahaz voice remained calm. “All of this shit’s gonna end.”
“You’re not erasing me from existence.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Look at how we live.”
“No, how you live,” Mr. Hanks kept his head on a swivel for any uniformed American hooligans.
“The world’s starving, slaves to a handful of corporations,” Jahaz tugged at the handcuffs again.
“Like I said, it’s not our fault the States’ a shithole, now innit.”
“And you call me the time manipulator.”
“No, I call you the bloody terrorist.”
“Religious nut sack.”
“‘Till the end.”
“Fuck the whole lot of—” Mr. Hank felt his body tense up from the blue energy shock wave.
“And the walls came tumbling down,” Simon Jahaz watched his enemy hit the ground hard.
“Hello, big brother,” Tasneem Jahaz said.
“Good lookin’ out, sis,” Simon Jahaz rubbed his bruised wrists while looking down at a now restrained Mr. Hanks. “And just in time, too.”
“What happened, Simon?”
“We’re all still here.”
“I know. I know.”
“Is the tumbler still intact?”
“Yeah, and thanks for asking about my health, too.”
“This isn’t funny, Simon.”
“And I’m not laughing,” Jahaz said. “And thanks for sticking to protocol.”
“Someone has to,” Tasneem said. “No way could we afford to kill Hanks or any of his team.”
“Instant notification to Mammoth,” Jahaz sighed. “Leading reinforcements directly on top of us.”
“So, what do you want me to do with him?” Tasneem nodded towards the unconscious Mr. Hanks.
“Keep him on lock down until I’ve accomplished the mission.”
“We’ve been monitoring your conversation since you got back.”
“I hope not.”
“Tat me up,” Jahaz said. “I need to get back to the King with these weapons.” He used up his supply of infinite form weapons during his most recent failed time episode. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
“We mustn’t fail, Simon,” Tasneem held her older brother’s hand.
“I’ll be deadly.”
Simon Jahaz stood alone on the edge of a 100-story building in Old Washington D.C. Packed inside his backpack was local clothing to blend in with the Gold Coast of 1471 along with some other classified goodies.
His baby sister Tasneem had just injected his neck with a solution of nano machines and amino acids. Now his mini time tumbler, embedded around his spinal cord, began its initial cycle.
Jahaz felt his heart rate increase. To say he had a fear of heights was an understatement but ironically it came in handy in time travel, elevating his breathing and pulse to create the blue temporal worm hole that would soon surround his entire body.
He lifted one foot off of the ledge.
He turned his head to see his only remaining family member watching from behind with folded arms across her chest.
“You know how I hate long goodbyes, sis.”
“I just wanted to see you one last time before we. . . entire generations are erased from history once and for all.”
“I won’t fail this time.”
Remember the Future
Jahaz lifted his other foot, putting himself into a rapid free fall time jump. All he needed was a full two seconds for the wormhole to form, and then travel back in time 666 years.
To be continued in A SIMON JAHAZ TALE EPISODE 7. . .
Based on the eNovella “Etched in Memory,” of Rising Tales, Vol. 1, “Any Day Now,” Episode 6 of a Simon Jahaz Tale, is a NEW multipart eSeries SOLELY FOR THE NEGROMANOSPHERE.
You can scoop up Rising Tales, Vol. 1 as well as Marcus’s most recent Broke and Ashy urban eNovella series at an Amazon Kindle near you.