Time of Fate (Wealth of Time Series #6) by Andre Gonzalez (books on motivation .txt) 📕

were accounted for and seated. The mood was mixed, some people clearly ready to celebrate a successful mission, while those closest to Martin refrained from showing too much joy, knowing their leader was experiencing dark times of his own.

“I don’t want anyone to worry about me,” Martin told Alina. “I’ll be fine, just like I’ve always been. Dealing with loss is the only constant in my life.”

He took his seat along a window, head resting on the glass pane. There was no denying the success they had just achieved and what it meant as they readied to fly back across the country, but his chest remained a hollow pit. He looked around to perhaps the greatest crew ever assembled for a mission in the history of the Road Runners, and Martin envied them all.

Every single person on this mission had been driven by such a strong force to end the war. And while Martin could relate, he didn’t have a lifetime of boiling rage pushing him like many others. Several of the younger members had grown up as Road Runners, their parents having become members several years prior to their birth. They had an acute focus on their roles. From day one, they were programmed to hate the Revolution and dedicate their lives to bringing them down.

What they had collectively achieved this morning was nothing short of a glass ceiling being shattered. They had grown used to the notion that the Revolution wielded all the power and that little could be done to stop it. Today, however, a wave of new change brewed on the horizon, one that would soon become a hurricane.

Once the flight took off and reached its cruising elevation, the party started as nearly everyone on board grabbed a drink from the bar and chatted in small huddles around the jet. Conversation and laughter filled the air, bringing a small grin to Martin’s lips.

He watched as Alina mingled for a few minutes, sipping her glass of wine until she locked eyes with him and came over, sitting in the lounge chair across from him.

“Enjoying the festivities?” Martin asked, growing thirsty for a glass of scotch.

“I am. How are you holding up?” Aline took another sip and leaned back to relax.

“Lots of reflection since we left the apartment building. You know, they don’t give us leaders a lot of time for that.”

Alina chuckled. “Oh, I know. We are superheroes who just have to power through our days like everything is fine. Have you checked your cell phone since we arrived back in 2020?”

Martin shook his head. “I haven’t turned it on yet. It’s been a nice couple of weeks being mostly out of the loop.”

“Well, just so you know, there is a situation, but we have to keep focused on this mission—it’s almost done.”

Martin dropped his head back. “Please tell me it’s not as bad as I think.”

“It’s not—it’s actually about us. The Council voted for a blackout across the continent until they hear back from anyone on our team. I’ve already informed the entire team to handover any communication devices they have.”

“Why? That seems like an overreaction.”

“Thaddeus Hamilton has been killed by Chris, along with three other Liberation leaders. He killed them all in Thad’s house. We’re not sure what exactly unfolded to make that happen—maybe Chris has fully lost his mind. But it all led to some serious panic by our members and they started flooding the offices around North America, demanding action. When Uribe wouldn’t tell the people where you were, they stormed out of the offices and are now marching in the streets.”

Martin leaned forward, scratching his head and rubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “I’m going down as the worst commander in history, aren’t I?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look at where we’re flying right now. On our way to Nevada to admire the destruction of Wealth of Time, then to make the final move on Chris. Sure, you’ve dealt with a carousel of external issues, but no commander has ever been in this position. And keep in mind, we have always been at war—that’s literally why our organization exists. It may not feel like it, but you’re on the verge of becoming the greatest commander of all time.”

Martin stared blankly and forced a half smile from the corner of his mouth. “Are we sure this is the right thing to do—not communicating with the Council?”

“It’s not that big of a deal, in my opinion. They might be overreacting right now, but if we show up tonight with Chris Speidel’s dead body, then no one will even remember the last twenty-four hours of this mess. These marches will turn into dancing in the streets.”

“I understand—I just don’t want anything reflected badly upon us. It seems almost childish to intentionally not check in with our own organization.”

“Last I looked, our job descriptions aren’t to check in with people. It’s to protect this organization to the best of our abilities. And that’s exactly what we’re doing. Now is not the time to dwell and question every decision we’ve made. It’s time to meet our fate and look it square in the eye, especially you. This entire mission falls into your hands once time is frozen. Martin and Chris, good versus evil—not another soul to interrupt.”

“Gee, thanks for the added pressure.” Martin laughed and turned to look at the team still celebrating, oblivious to the dark road ahead for their commander. “Must be nice to feel that sense of accomplishment like they are. I’ve been chasing that my whole life.”

“You’ll find it soon enough. On that note, are you ready to discuss the next steps?”

Martin had a rough idea how the rest of the night would play out, but many of the details remained within Alina’s plans. He had wanted to make sure they actually reached this point before occupying his mind with more worry. With Sonya dead, he could no longer avoid the pending task that fell squarely upon his shoulders.

“Okay, what do