Chapter 11

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They stood in the doorway for a long time just holding each other. Their father had sent Jean to him. They knew where he was and his sister still loved him. And he loved her right back.

He picked her up and carried her over to his bunk as she said, "I love you, Connor. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Jean, and I love you more than anything. I'll never let you go again."

"Connor," she smiled, as she turned to stare into their identical blue eyes. "Daddy sent me here. Mommy said that the twins are rapidly growing and she doesn't want anyone to see it and get suspicious, so she wants you to get them out."

Connor had forgotten that when he left his mother had only just had twins less than a year ago. He had only thought about Jean while he was on the run which made him feel guilty. They were his siblings too. He had to do this, for his family and for Jean

"Stay here," he instructed. "We'll go tonight."

"We'll teleport tonight," Jean altered as she curled into a ball under the bed.

"Sleep tight, Pickle," he whispered as he started toward the door.

"Later, Jelly," he heard her whisper from behind him as she dozed off.

Soon they would be reunited with their parents, even if only for a moment, but it mattered to him.

* * * * *

After dinner they all returned to the dormitory, freshly bathed and exhausted from too much food, but Connor could not eat. He was nervous about what his father might say when he showed up after all of this. Would he be mad? Proud? Desperate for Connor to return to him?

Connor now had more responsibility with his brother and sister. Jean was still young and would not be able to help much. Plus, Connor assumed the Thunderthrillers may take in Jean, but would they take in babies? They didn't seem to be very capable of caring for one, after all.

As midnight neared, Connor realized that he alone was awake. Steady breathing filled the room as Connor shook Jean awake. She crawled out from under the bed and motioned for him to follow.

They crept down the hall and reached a locked door. "I've never teleported with more than one person before, but it can't hurt you. Worst that can happen is I accidentally leave you behind, so it might take a few tries."

"Okay, but how do you know all this?" Connor wondered.

"Daddy told me when he got a very important letter. I was sitting next to him and he handed me a note that he was going to show us eventually, but he said the time was right and I should teleport to the Thunderthriller base at the border of DC. He taught me how to do it and I came here to get you."

Connor could only nod as she grabbed his hand. He immediately felt a yank go throughout his body. Pitch black, then swirling colors, then the Oval Office.

"Let's go," Connor whispered urgently, and he headed to the First Lady's bedroom.

Jean's hair tickled his hand as they ran in their black jumpsuits, wool hats covering their light hair, almost the same, Connor's a shade darker. A secret service agent walked past the hallway and Connor pressed Jean against the wall, hand over her mouth to stifle the noise that did not come.

They scrambled down the last hall and at the bend Jean thrust out her hand causing a vase to break at the other end of the hall. The agents ran over to investigate.

"How?" he asked.

"Teleported too much air for it to hold."

They slipped into the room and were met by their parents' friendly faces.

"Connor!" his mother whispered, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into an embrace with his father, who was smiling.

"I'm proud of you son. I owe you an explanation. I put a note in the basket for you along with lots of supplies and an official stationary that will allow letters to come straight to me. I love you, Connor." He kissed Connor, then Jean. "And you Jean."

"Your father told me everything years ago, but it never felt real until now. We will see you again after the Callahan Agencies are defeated. Now is the time for you to rise up. Connor you are special, a rare type of Thunderthriller. You will be read and people will admire your strong genetic heritage, but you will need it to lead the war. Now go! We love you," she breathed.

Connor cradled the heavy basket. How are these two babies and some supplies? Connor thought as he was pulled back into the blur of dark, color, and solidity of teleportation.

Connor and Jean stumbled down the hall back into the sleeping chamber to find a furious Lielle. She stood up from her bed and in three long strides crossed over to where he stood with his sister. She seized his arm and strode down the hallway into a private bathroom near the training area, leaving Jean to run after them.

She shut the door and locked it and then whisper-shouted, "Where were you?! I saw you leave the room with her and then when I come to find you you're not there! Connor, you could have died leaving this place. You could have been caught. How could you do this?"

"Lielle," Connor breathed, "This is Jean, my sister. She came to tell me something earlier. It was a favor to her and my parents. For leaving them. I needed to do this, you get it, don't you?" he pleaded. "If you don't believe me, look in the basket."

Jean gasped and plopped herself down on top of it. "Connor," she hissed. "What are you thinking?"

"Jean, I trust her," he assured her, and he walked over to pick her up.

She stared as Lielle opened the basket, they couldn't see into the basket with Lielle blocking it, but she gasped.

"Connor," she wheezed. "What is this? You stole babies!"

"I-no," he stuttered. "They're my sister and brother. No one knows about them and no one can. We had to save from whatever's out there and my parents asked me to bring them here. They explained some stuff but it didn't make much sense. We just need to do our best."

"Do these people look like babysitters? Who knows what they'll do?" she fretted.

"Can I see?" Jean asked.

Connor nodded and Lielle stepped aside. His heart seemed to stop. Inside lay a boy and beside it a girl, both wrapped in the presidential seal. But they were far too big for seven month olds.

"They-they're huge!" he cried, earning himself a firm hand clamped over his mouth from Lielle.

"Connor, you cannot let anyone know, not even Cassidy and-"

"I need to tell Evie," he pleaded. "She deserves to know the truth."

"Connor, if she tells anyone I will kill you both. I think I saw a place where we can keep them."

She grabbed the basket in one strong hand and Jean, who was already drifting off, in the other.

Through a maze of tunnels lay a crack in the wall, narrow enough for one squished teen, through it, a room, now occupied by the two screaming voices of the Travis twins, or as the Travis's named them, Callie Bella and Finn Mitchel.

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