Chapter 23

2150

The first thing Michael saw on the other side were the several white coats scattered about in front of him. Scientists from OrbisTech. They had desks lined up, whiteboards, computers, monitors set up all around the room. As he heard Mark and Mira pass through behind him, he looked above. They were in what looked like a massive hangar. So this was where Nichol had set up her terminus and anchored the fracture. It certainly wasn't a room he had been in before.

The scientists stared at the intruders, confused and fearful. Within moments, Phoenix Group soldiers had run over, pointing rifles at them. Michael put his hands up, Mark and Mira following suit.

One of the soldiers lowered his weapon.

"Captain Taylor. You've returned?"

Michael slowly lowered his hands. "Uh, yes. My mission was successful." He looked behind at his companions. "Our mission. We've come to inform Ms Nichol. Where is she?"

"Sir, the compound is under attack by the rebels. She's been transferred to a safe location."

"Under attack?" Mark repeated nervously. "Where are we, exactly?"

"We're directly below the facility. The building is in lockdown, so we should be safe down here. The rebels won't be able to access the portal."

"I don't care if it's World War 3, where's Sienna?" Mira barked. "Where are the kids?"

"Take us to them," Michael ordered.

"I'm sorry, Captain. We're under strict orders to remain with the terminus. We can't let the rebels get down here."

"Then we'll make our own way. How do we get up there?"

"I wouldn't recommend that, sir. The rebels have control of the building. If I were you I'd wait until reinforcements arrive."

"Screw that!" Mira exclaimed angrily. "I did what that witch told me to, I'm seeing my daughter right now."

Michael took a step closer towards the soldier, trying to seem reassuring. "We'll be careful."

The young soldier didn't look too convinced, but nodded anyway. He beckoned for the group to follow him to the end of the hangar where there was an elevator. He informed them of the code.

"It'll take you to the ground floor. The doors will lock automatically as soon as you get out. Since everything's locked down, you'll need that code to open any doors." He typed the code in as he spoke, then stepped back as the doors opened. "Good luck."

"Thanks, Private."

The three of them got in, catching their last glimpse of the hangar as the doors closed and the elevator kicked into action.

"Well, that was easy," Mark breathed.

"They don't know we've changed sides," smirked Mira. "Bet that old crone skipped town at the first sight of trouble and just left her men to die."

"I have a feeling she's close by," Michael contemplated. "Now she has control of this fracture, she won't want to let it go."

"So now what? We've got to fight a bunch of rebels to get through the building?" Mark said with concern. "I thought we'd be shooting her soldiers, not civilians."

"We can use the sonics for now," Michael replied. "We won't kill anyone if we don't have to."

A second later and the elevator came to a sudden halt and the doors opened to reveal a small foyer, separate to the main entrance. It was hidden away for obvious reasons. As they bailed out, the doors shut promptly behind them.

Michael led them to a locked door, leading to the main building.

"Ready?" he said. His companions nodded. He typed in the code and opened the door, pointing his rifle left and right as he walked through.

It was like stepping into the aftermath of a warzone. Bodies of soldiers lay, mangled and bloodied, across the floor. The odd gunshot was heard every now and then, but it looked like most of the fighting had been done for now.

Michael peered around the corridor, noticing a group of rebels congregating together, talking in low voices. Some of them were smashing on the doors of the main elevator, trying to get through, but it was clear they were stuck where they were. Michael beckoned for the others to keep close to him, then raised a finger to his lips. They would have to try to sneak by to get to the stairwell.

Michael went first. He tried not to think about it too much. The rebels were busy so wouldn't notice him sneak by if he was quick. In a flash, he hurried from the cover of the wall, to the other side. Heart racing, he took up cover again, hiding behind another wall. He paused. Nothing. They didn't notice a thing. He looked over at Mark who was preparing to go next. He was light on his feet. Quickly and quietly, he made it to the other side and took up a place beside Michael.

Mira next. She hesitated, peering around the corner doubtfully. Michael wordlessly encouraged her, using hand signals to beckon her over. She took a quick breath and ran.

"Hey!"

They had seen her. Mira froze. Michael and Mark ducked behind the wall again..

"Who the hell are you?"

Mira raised her hands up gently. "Look, I'm not here for you."

"She must be one of them. I don't recognise her," one of them said.

"You Phoenix Group?" another asked rudely.

"Do I look like one of those idiot soldiers?" she spluttered derisively.

"No but you ain't one of us."

"I say shoot her. She's armed."

"If she's here, she's got to be working for EdenCorp. Kill her."

Michael's heart started racing. If he didn't do something, Mira was dead. He revealed himself from his hiding place and blasted them with a sonic wave. They all fell into a pile on the floor, but not before firing their own guns.

A bullet pierced Mira's shoulder. She toppled to the floor, screaming in agony. Michael ran over to her, picked her up and dragged her to cover before the rebels could regain consciousness and start firing again. He set her down by a door where he punched in the numbers, swinging it open to reveal the stairwell. He and Mark helped her inside, closing the door behind them.

Michael carried her over to the steps where he laid her down, propping her up against the wall. She groaned in pain, holding the wound as blood spurted through her hands.

"It's okay," Michael said. "Let me see." He retrieved some bandages from his pockets. Mira shakily removed her hand, revealing the bright red wound on the side of her shoulder. Her eyes were wide, fearful.

"It's just a flesh wound. You're gonna be fine," insisted Michael who had already begun patching her up. Mira stared at him as he placed gauze over the lesion and calmly started to wrap the bandage around her arm.

"A day ago you couldn't even look at me, now you're patching me up," she observed with irony.

Michael pursed his lips, trying to concentrate on wrapping the bandage.

"There comes a point where you can't let the past consume you. You have to move on and look forward," he said, avoiding her gaze. "I could dwell on what you've done, what we've all done," he looked back at Mark who was watching on from the bottom of the stairwell. "But it's not going to help, is it? It's not going to help Terra Nova, or my son, or Sienna. We're all here to complete a mission and I'm not in the habit of leaving anyone behind, no matter who I'm fighting for."

"Fair enough," she mumbled, biting her lip through the pain.

He finished tying the bandage. "There. You good?"

"Think so."

Michael helped Mira to her feet.

"I think you'll live. Come on, let's find those kids."

Michael led the way up the stairs, several floors up. All that military PT that had been drilled into the soldiers came in handy as they climbed step after step without even breaking a sweat. Mira kept close behind, albeit a little more sweaty and out of breath. She wasn't a soldier but she was determined to keep up with the men, even if her shoulder was killing her.

"This one," Michael said, coming to the door. He swiftly typed the numbers in, then slowly opened the door. Mark checked if the coast was clear. He nodded back at Michael and Mira.

"It's clear."

The three of them slipped through the door and jogged down the corridor.

Passing by the large glass windows, Mark slowed his pace, distracted by the scene outside. Mira followed him curiously as they both peered at the world outside. A bleak sight: they were reminded of just how grey and joyless the future was, the thick smog completely blocking out the sky, the lack of nature and of colour. Added to the ugly setting were the masses of sick and angry people below, clashing with police and military, screaming, crying.

"I forgot how bad it was," Mira said regrettably.

Mark frowned, his lip curling with disgust. "It's enough to make you sick. This time is broken."

Michael, who had observed the sight many times before, steamed ahead with determination. "The accommodation block is just over here," he told Mark and Mira, who gladly walked away from the window to follow him. He got them through another door which led them to a corridor of rooms.

Michael had been down this long, white corridor plenty of times. He knew it well. He went to visit what had been Alicia's room first, but as he stared hopefully through the window, no one was there. He slammed a fist against the glass. Alicia's bed was gone, replaced by a baby's cot. But the cot was empty.

Mark and Mira joined him, looking inside.

"This was where they kept her," Michael explained. "When Nichol let me, I came here to check on her...and the baby."

Mira looked through the glass with disgust. Mark placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll find them."

Michael forced a smile at him, though the anxiety on his face was still clear.

"Where's Sienna's room?" Mira asked, already looking around again.

Michael pulled away from the glass window. "This way." He gestured towards a door all the way at the end of the corridor. The door was open. Mira almost sprinted towards it.

As she pulled the door open, a limp arm fell onto her boot. She recoiled. A Phoenix Group soldier lay on the floor, her eyes and lips wide open.

Michael knelt down to try her pulse. "She's dead." He sighed. "I knew her. She looked after Sienna."

Panic lit up Mira's features. "Do you think the rebels took her?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

"I swear to god, if they hurt her, I'll kill every last one of them."

As Mira started muttering threats under her breath, Reynolds took in the small room. His eyes traced the walls, the ceiling, all of it.

"I think this was my room," he said. Mira and Michael looked over at him. "Before I left for Terra Nova. This was where I lived. I remember the cracks in the wall. They looked like an angry face, used to creep me out." He glanced up the wall opposite the bed, where there were indeed some angry looking shapes in the paintwork.

Mira's eyes glanced down from the cracks, onto the many posters and paintings that decorated the wall. "Oh, my god." She picked one off the wall. It looked like her and Sienna, underneath a rainbow, surrounded by trees. "Is this…"

"She drew you a lot. Looks like she still does," Michael said, noticing the many new drawings scattered across the walls. He noticed one on the opposite wall. Pulling it off carefully, Sienna had drawn two men. One in military combats, the other in a lab coat. Their stick figure faces bore happy smiles. Could it be him and Lucas?

"She knows what trees and rainbows look like," Mark commented. "I didn't know what a rainbow looked like until I got to Terra Nova. Embarrassingly enough."

"She was looked after well," Michael added, putting down the drawing. "They never hurt her as far as I know. I hope the same is true of my kid."

"I'm sure it is," Mark said. "I mean, they are evil. But they never hurt me either when I was here."

Michael frowned, thinking back to months previously when he would come back from fighting to hear the pained screams and yells of grown men coming from Nichol's office. It wasn't beneath her to hurt the people who worked for her, but children? He hoped Mark was right.

Suddenly, Michael paused, holding out his hand to quiet the others. He could hear something. Footsteps? Yes. They all heard it. Michael raised his weapon cautiously, preparing for a fight. Gently he opened the door to see who was coming.

He froze.

He saw her immediately. At first he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him. He was just thinking about her, missing her, and his brain was fooling him again like it did back in Terra Nova.

But it was her. In the flesh. She was here.

Alicia Washington. She was walking towards him, a small group of men and women behind her. She saw him from the other end of the corridor. Her dark eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. Then she found her voice:

"Michael?!" she cried.

He stepped forward. "Alicia?" His voice cracked. "Is that really you?"

She put her pistol in her holster and started darting through the corridor towards him.

He ran for her, swinging his rifle onto his back. He couldn't run fast enough, his heart pounding, his mind racing. She met him in the middle, throwing her arms around him, crying, laughing. He wrapped his arms around her waist, raising her up slightly, squeezing her slim form tightly. The warmth of her body was welcome against his. For the first time in a year, they were really together. She was here, awake and embracing him. He almost couldn't believe it. Tears formed in his eyes.

He pulled back, running a hand through her hair and across her cheek. He held her face, looking into those beautiful eyes for the first time in a long time, taking in all those lines and features he had missed so much, and then he kissed her. He'd almost forgotten what she felt like, tasted like. His heart was on fire. She kissed him back fervently, a tear running down her cheek.

She pulled away, smiling. He hadn't seen her smile that much, maybe ever. He was speechless. All he could do was laugh. Smile and laugh and stare at her.

"How did you get here?" she asked. "I thought you went back to Terra Nova."

Michael glanced back at Mira and Mark who were watching somewhat awkwardly. "We came through the portal downstairs."

"There's a portal here?" a woman behind Wash said with astonishment.

Michael stared at the people behind Wash. They were all wearing dark clothing, armed with rudimentary weapons. They were clearly not Phoenix Group. "You're with the rebels?" he said, perplexed.

"I joined them after I escaped. They're helping me find…"

"Our son." He smiled briefly. "That's why we're here too."

"Do you know where he is?"

Michael shook his head. He took her hands. "Li, I'm so sorry. I wanted to wake you up more than anything. But they said we couldn't. And then I left you and our son." He frowned deeply. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that alone."

She shook her head. "It's okay, Michael. I understand. And I wasn't always alone. Your father is the one who told me about our son."

He furrowed his brow, confused. "My father's here?"

Wash nodded. "He's with Lucas. We split up while I went looking for the baby. We have to find him, Michael."

"I know. We will." He took hold of his rifle again. "Come with us."

"Where the hell are you taking us?" an angry voice barked from behind as Lucas took them to a door.

"You'll see." He typed in the code and opened the door to a conference room.

It was empty.

"What is this?" the guy snapped, looking around angrily. "There's no one here."

"This is the last place I knew she'd been," Lucas explained, shrugging. "Having a meeting with my other employers."

The rebel man shoved him to the floor. "Son of a bitch, we're not in the mood for games." He aimed his gun at Lucas before cocking it.

"Cruz!" Taylor cautioned, stepping in front of Lucas, blocking him.

"Who's side are you on, old man?" Cruz rasped. "Don't make me shoot the both of you."

Their attention was unexpectedly redirected to the sound of a loud rumble outside. An explosion.

"What the hell was that?"

Lucas smirked from his landing spot on the floor. "Reinforcements. They'll be here any minute."

The rebels looked at each other nervously. They scurried for the windows, watching the black smoke billow up from below.

"There's a lot of them."

"We can't lose control of the building!" yelled Cruz. He was panicking.

While Cruz and the other rebels were muttering nervously to each other, Taylor looked down at his son on the floor and offered him a hand, which Lucas promptly refused. He laboriously pulled himself up, grunting in pain.

It wasn't long before they heard the gunshots echoing through the building. Cruz instructed his people to fight. They charged into the corridor, firing their weapons. The sound was deafening.

As the rebels ran into battle, Lucas let himself drop into one of the conference room chairs. He glimpsed his father watching him. "Aren't you going to help your new friends?" he asked with contempt, slumping back in the chair.

"No, I'm going to keep an eye on you," Taylor said, placing his weapon by his side.

"Oh good," Lucas said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Lucky me. Could you at least untie me?"

After a moment of hesitation, Taylor cautiously pulled out his knife and cut through Lucas' bonds. Lucas rubbed the sore skin around his wrist while Taylor stepped back again.

He purposely avoided his father, but his presence was like an unbearable irritance, burrowing under Lucas' skin and making him want to explode. He was angry. Not long ago, Lucas had the upper hand. He had him right where he wanted him. He was going to make him pay. Nichol ruined that for him and now here the Commander was, convincing complete strangers to fight with him. He had made a fool of Lucas once again.

Why did he always have to win?

"You can't hate me forever," Taylor said after what seemed like several minutes of nothing but the violent gunfire outside of the room. "Eventually, you'll have to stop all this. You'll realise what you're doing is wrong. I raised you to - "

"You didn't raise me," Lucas growled, cutting him off. "You raised Michael. To be your perfect little doppelganger. Mom raised me; she knew Michael and I were different. She saw me for who I was, not what you wanted me to be. She was perfect. And she's gone because of you."

Lucas closed his eyes, seeing Ayani again. Her warm smile. He could still hear her soothing voice. He could hear it turn to screams. He could hear her crying. The blood. He swiped at his tears before they could fall. Make it stop, he thought desperately. He could never make it stop.

"I know you think I blame you for her death. I don't."

Lucas scoffed. "Of course you do. Michael does."

"Lucas, you were just a boy. It wasn't your fault."

His son shook his head, leaning over the desk. "Don't give me that. I saw it in your eyes. Every single day. I wasn't enough, I was never enough...You'd rather I died than her."

Taylor's mouth hung open, appalled. "That's not true." He stepped closer, putting a hand on his son's shoulder.

Lucas shook him off violently. He jumped to his feet, sending the chair toppling. "Don't touch me!" he roared. "Just don't!"

Taylor put his hands up and stepped away. It was probably for the best. Last time he let his guard down, he ended up with Lucas' knife in his side.

Lucas was breathing heavily, his eyes red with moisture. He was desperately trying to calm down, to not seem so weak.

"I want you to know I'm sorry," Taylor said. That grabbed Lucas' attention. He blinked, looking over at Taylor. "I didn't blame you for what happened. I blamed myself. I shut down. I didn't take care of you boys like I should have and I couldn't forgive myself for that." He paused, swallowing back his emotion, narrowing his eyes at Lucas. "I took my anger out on you. I wasn't there for you." He looked around. "Meeting Nichol, seeing where this all started, it made me realise how badly I failed as your father."

There was a long silence as Lucas stared at him, like he couldn't believe The Great Commander was finally admitting to his failures. This was new and unprecedented. He wasn't quite sure how to react. Isn't this what he had wanted since he was a kid? For his dad to just admit how badly he messed up, instead of looking at him with the same disdain as he did since Lucas was fourteen years old?

Unfortunately, the rift between father and son could not be so easily repaired.

"Apologies mean nothing now. It's too late."

Taylor sighed, defeated. It was then two of the rebels retreated back inside the conference room.

"There's too many of them!" one of them cried. "Taylor, we need your help!"

The Commander grabbed his gun and followed them out into the corridor. Lucas could hear firing and yells as the fight continued. He slowly peered out from the room, watching as his father and the remaining rebels opened fire on their enemy. While they were busy, he decided to make his escape. He started running in the other direction.

His father, seeing this, stopped shooting and instead fell back to chase after him.

"LUCAS!"

Lucas kept running. If his father really wanted to stop him, he'd have to shoot him. But damn, the old man was fast, and seconds later he had dived on top of Lucas, causing them both to collapse to the floor.

Furiously, Taylor picked his son up and threw him against the wall.

"Alright, alright," Lucas conceded. He could tell when he was beat. "I know where your grandson is."

Taylor's grip on him loosened, his angry expression softening.

"I'll take you to him."

Taylor paused for a second, then shoved him down the corridor. "Show me."