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

running down the side of his face as he stood up and stretched his legs in the confines of the jet’s bathroom. He grabbed the side of the sink, staring into the mirror where he saw the tear on his suit jacket’s shoulder, flesh exposed with dried blood around the mild wound.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, still catching his breath. He turned on the sink and splashed some water on his face, tossing a handful on his hair to help clean up his appearance. Hopefully no one outside would question anything and think he just had a difficult time on the can. Martin patted his suit, furious he had no chance of grabbing the bag of clothes he had departed in, now lying beside a dumpster in 1995 Denver where a homeless person would surely enjoy their warmth.

His breathing was back under control, but he still drew a long breath before unlocking the door and stepping outside. Most everyone remained scattered about the jet, carrying on their conversations. No one even looked to their commander as he wriggled his way along the wall to not be seen.

Everyone except Alina, who sat in her seat next to Martin’s, an inevitable encounter awaiting him thanks to the look of judgment in her eyes. He dropped into his seat and quickly opened his laptop in hopes of giving an appearance that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Especially a trip into the past where someone—obviously a Revolter—tried to assassinate him.

This area of the jet was equipped with a curtain that ran on a rounded track from the ceiling, meant to give the commander and lieutenant a private meeting space. They hadn’t used it once, but Alina now stood up and snapped the curtain closed around them, whispering. “Where the fuck did you go?!”

Martin frowned, years removed from the once lethal poker face he had in his mid-20’s. “To the bathroom,” he said in a how-dare-you-question-me tone.

“And you decided to change into a suit before heading out for this mission?”

Martin felt his face flush with hot blood. He had covered the tear on his shoulder as best he could, so far relieved that she hadn’t questioned it, but also knowing he had been caught.

“Commander, we all heard you throwing up this morning. I know there is no reason for you to have been in that bathroom for ten minutes. Tell me where you went. You could have jeopardized this entire mission.” She glared into his eyes, and the tension forced him to look away and avoid eye contact. “Did you go back to see Sonya?” she hissed.

Martin shook his head, lowering it as he settled on staring to the ground. “I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about my death all day and night. I went back to see my daughter one last time. 1995. I had a specific day in mind that I thought would be perfect.”

Alina leaned back, but her arms remained stiff and perched on the armrests. “Did it not go well?”

Martin shook his head, still refusing eye contact. He reached up and flipped back the flap from his tattered suit, revealing the bruised skin that had been grazed by the bullet. “I was maybe twenty feet away from Izzy when someone started shooting. Caught me here, but that’s it. Got out before anything worse happened.”

“Jesus Christ, Martin, what were you thinking?!”

Even though they were peers, Alina had never called Martin by his first name. Her deciding to use his name in this moment showered all of her intended disappointment over Martin.

“I don’t know. It’s been hard sitting here all day, watching everyone act like everything is fine in the world while I’m wondering if I’ll be alive tomorrow. I had to do something, and figured I’d try to get in a final goodbye.”

Alina shook her head. “I can’t say I blame you, and I know how you’re feeling. Why didn’t you just come talk to me? I’ve had countless missions where I’ve wondered—no, expected—death to finally take me away. But here I am, ready to witness history for our organization. Believe me, Commander, if I could go do this mission for you I would, but not a single one of us can help you once time is frozen.”

Martin looked up, his eyes droopy with regret. “I know, and maybe that’s why I’m having such a difficult time. I’m not normally afraid of Chris, but I’ve always had a team surrounding me. I’m horrified of being alone with him. It’s literally a fight to the death—on his turf.”

Alina nodded. “I get it. But keep in mind, he won’t have quite the advantage you think. Sure it’s his cabin, but it’s not like he knows the area as well as Barrow. If this encounter were taking place at his mansion, that’s a different story—you’d have no chance. But this fight in the woods is probably as neutral of a site we could ask for. That’s why our first step was getting him out of that mansion and demolishing it. Same with the store. Those were two locations he knew like the back of his hand. We didn’t know where he’d end up going after that, but I’d say this has worked out in our favor. And there’s nothing to worry about. The fact that he hasn’t made an appearance confirms—at least for me—that he is indeed growing weaker since Sonya died. If he had anywhere near his regular strength he’d have made an appearance to egg you on, perhaps taunt you into making a bad decision.”

Martin chuckled. “Apparently I can do that all on my own. I can’t believe I just left here with no sort of protection around me. What the hell was I thinking?”

“That’s beside the point now. The Chris you’ll be meeting in the woods is not the one you’ve known this whole time. He’s weak, slow, and fragile. He’ll have an advantage based on position and will probably try to kill you with traditional means like a gun. If you