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

arm over her shoulder, pulling Arielle into his embrace. “He’s dead, but not gone. We know what we have to do next, and it won’t be pretty. Let’s enjoy this moment for what it is, but once we leave these woods, we owe it to the organization to never let an evil person rise to so much power again. The Revolution is going to raise hell at first. They might try to steal the body from us, might even start spreading propaganda that his death is fake, just to scare our members and start rumors. We must not let anything sway the new road ahead of us. We’ll put out fires where needed, but I look forward to a day of no more fighting.”

“You have a major speech to deliver after this is all settled, and no one will be able to be convinced away from the truth.”

Martin nodded. “I’d like to think so, but I don’t want to take any chances. I want his dead body behind me while I give the speech—we’ll do it right from the jet if we need to. How much longer until the other two get here?”

“If all went according to plan, they should be here in the next half hour.”

“And you’re okay to help carry him all the way back to their van?”

She hesitated, staring to the body on the ground, looking into those eyes where evil no longer lurked. “Absolutely. Are you okay to carry him? That shoulder looks awful.”

“Arielle, trust me when I tell you it’s fine—nothing to worry about.”

They stood in silence for a minute, both admiring the ultimate achievement of a dead Keeper of Time.

“Did you notice if your phone had any signal at the car?” Martin asked.

“It did. I sent a message to the lieutenant letting her know I was heading in. She confirmed the others should be here shortly.”

“Perfect. I want to call Steffan when we arrive, thank him for taking this huge risk for us, then Alina to let her know the good news. I don’t think I can hold it in for that whole ride back—I have to tell someone.”

“Soon enough, Commander. One thing at a time.”

As if answering his prayers, the sounds of more footsteps started carrying from the distance. Arielle cupped her hands to project her voice, shouting, “Darius! Marie! It’s safe—hurry!”

Martin noticed the smile in Arielle’s voice and couldn’t help but think of the next several weeks, if not months, bringing more of the same from everyone he’d encounter throughout the organization. He might even earn a smile from Councilman Uribe, a tall task from the bull of a man.

“Coming!” a woman’s voice called back, the footsteps immediately breaking into a sprint, clopping on the ground like wild horses. Martin looked in the direction where Arielle had arrived from and saw two figures making their way, legs pumping as they ran through patches of snow and mud.

When they reached Martin and Arielle, the man pulled off his ski mask, shaking his head to let his flowing blonde hair breathe. The woman had done the same thing, the two matching in their attire, wide grins plastered across their faces. Martin recognized them from the jet, but couldn’t recall any specific encounters with the two aside from courteous small talk in passing.

“Commander Briar,” the man said, sticking his hand out. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to Marie and I. We are brother and sister, and lost our parents a long time ago because of Chris. Bounced around orphanages since we were little, and all we’ve ever wanted was some justice. You’ve just given it to us.”

The words shook Martin. He understood the importance of what he had achieved—able to relate to it—but also appreciated the long journey the two siblings had surely endured. The road ahead would be filled with these types of heart-wrenching stories, something he’d need to emotionally prepare for. It was easy to lose sight, especially as commander, of the fact that everyone had their reasons for joining the Road Runners, no different from himself. All stories shared one thing in common: Chris Speidel ruining lives, either directly or indirectly.

“Don’t thank just me . . .” Martin fished for the man’s name.

“Darius,” he replied, still squeezing Martin’s hand with a slight tremble.

“Yes, my apologies. Darius. This was a team effort with so many moving parts. I simply sealed the deal.”

Darius shook his head violently. “With all due respect, sir, you are wrong. Yes, we all played our part in making this happen—that was never the question. We’ve always had that willingness, every single Road Runner, but we’ve never had someone to rally behind quite like you.”

“I don’t understand. I’m just a regular guy. Two years ago I didn’t even know time travel was a real thing.”

“That’s exactly it,” Marie chimed in. “We all saw ourselves in you. Every commander we’ve had before has been great in their own rights, and each one flirted with ways to bring down the Revolution, but they always landed in the muddy politics of the situation, giving excuses as to why it wasn’t the right time, or too risky. It was clear from the beginning that you were truly in this to right a wrong—and that’s all we wanted. You had no interest in the commandership itself, not the power and glory that comes with it, just killing Chris. Nothing else. It was refreshing to see someone with the same desire as us.”

“We had our doubts,” Darius said. “How well could someone so new truly do in this type of role? But the role didn’t matter; you only leveraged it to get us to this moment of victory. Even the Council wanted to stop this, but you pressed forward. Not to mention, we were all aware of the romance between you and Sonya. For me personally, I knew the moment you agreed to kill her that we had this in the bag. I suppose every commander had their share of obstacles,