CHAPTER 10 – Finding Amma
Peter’s van creaked slightly as it rolled down the dim streets of Catonsville, Marynd. The team was tense, but their minds were locked on the pn they’d developed back at the Zimmerman household, one that revolved around precision, logical patterns, and... ironically... a touch of chaos.
Ruby leaned over from the passenger seat, scanning the minated map spyed across her p.
“So, we’re looking for an abandoned building with minimal foot traffic. We picked this area, so... what’s the first hook again?” she asked, smirking.
“Point A to Point B,” Chris replied from the backseat, holding a small notebook filled with scribbles of equations and sketches of geometric figures.
“Phase one is implementation. We use the Cartesian grid and map out all the possible choke points in the search radius. Uncle Peter has the ndmarks locked in.”
From the driver’s seat, Peter stroked his hair and nodded.
“Already worked out. There’s a three-mile area that matches the criteria. I plotted it by reference points... storefronts, streetlights, and the decay rate of maintained buildings versus abandoned ones.”
Candy raised an eyebrow.
“You make that sound like common sense, but I’m only following half of what you’ve said.”
“The devil’s in the math,” Chris muttered, flipping to another page.
“We’re following rhythm and patterns, per the Hermetic Principle. Life... hell, even decay... follows a rhythm. We’ve got proximity, economic trends, and societal neglect. All add up mathematically.”
Linda looked intrigued but concerned in the far-left seat of the van.
“So, you guys basically crunched numbers to make a map of likely hiding spots?”
“Pretty much,” Peter confirmed.
“And we’re driving around looking like Scooby-Doo gang rejects,” Ruby snorted.
“Perfect pn.”
Peter parked the van at the curb near a run-down industrial area. A crumbling sign beled “Catonsville Ironworks” stood rusted and cracked on the outskirts. He turned to the group, his expression serious.
“This building fits all the calcuted points we discussed,” Peter said.
“If Major Enki is anywhere remote but central enough to monitor movement, she’ll be here.”
“But we might also have trackers,” Chris muttered, gncing at their phones.
“I rerouted signals, but...” He hesitated.
Peter nodded.
“Diversionary tactics. Ruby?”
“Oh, I’ve got that in the bag.”
Ruby grinned mischievously, pulling out a fake burner phone rigged to release cellur pings at timed intervals.
“The cops will find this one a mile away, but I’ve pnted it by that 24-hour diner we just passed. If we’re lucky, half their squad cars go there instead of sniffing around this dump.”
“Clever,” Linda whispered.
“For now,” Peter said, stepping out and motioning for the others to follow.
The faint glow of a streetmp buzzed as they approached the decrepit building. Ruby and Chris carried backpacks of supplies, while Paul adjusted his jacket nervously.
The group stepped inside, where the air smelled of mildew and stagnant water. Shadows loomed from shattered windows, but the dark was dense, and their fshlight beams barely penetrated pockets of the building.
“Follow the numbers,” Chris muttered, pointing towards a section of their notes where they had calcuted peak hiding spots based on diminishing utility scores.
Linda widened her eyes.
“Is that integral calculus written down there?”
“Yep. Technically, how we’re eliminating unlikely hiding areas,” Chris said, fshing the paper.
“Emotion’s noisy, but this... this is clean.”
After creeping through the dark building using their calcutions as a guide, they finally spotted movement. Huddled in the corner near what appeared to be a makeshift bedding area was Major Amma Enki. Her usually upright posture and immacute appearance had colpsed into a wary, hollow-eyed shell of itself. Disheveled, dehydrated, and clutching a rusted metal pipe for defense, the woman looked on edge... but ready to swing if anyone came closer.
“Get back!” Major Amma hissed, her eyes darting wildly.
“I’ll take you all down!”
Peter raised his hands carefully.
“We’re not here to hurt you or turn you in! We’re friends! I promise you.”
She gnced between them, her hands trembling at the pipe, not lowering her guard.
Chris added, softly, “We saw the news. They said you escaped from the Pentagon’s custody.”
“Oh, and General Berg?” Ruby’s dry but biting humor cut into the tension.
“Saw him too. The guy’s got a PhD in gaslighting. That fake empathy dispy made my stomach churn.”
Major Amma’s defensive posture softened slightly, though her eyes flicked nervously between them.
“How did you… find me here?”
Peter stepped forward again, holding up Chris’s notebook.
“Mathematics,” he said simply.
“Living mathematics, actually. We mapped rhythms, decay cycles, and built grids to locate you. With precision.”
Major Amma blinked.
“What? That’s insane!”
But her weary expression flickered... just for a moment... with the briefest glimmer of impressed interest.
“Yeah, we’re kinda super-nerds,” Ruby grinned.
Paul then stepped out, looking straight at her.
“But look... we have bigger questions. Did General Berg… is it true? Is the Pentagon compromised at the highest level?”
Major Amma closed her eyes for a moment, her exhaustion almost palpable.
“There’s no doubt about it. Berg’s the culprit. That slimeball’s been siphoning Pentagon funds... at least 1.3 trillion... undering it through Old World Order shell companies.”
Ruby gasped, “I KNEW IT!”
The others nodded grimly, confirming their own suspicions. Paul muttered something under his breath with a shake of his head.
“What’s worse,” Major Amma began.
“He offered me and my superior 150 million each. Promotions to generals and membership in... the Old World Order in twelve months.”
Her voice cracked slightly at the weight of it all.
Linda exhaled sharply.
“That’s tempting. Any normal person would’ve jumped at that.”
“But I am NOT a ‘normal’ person,” Major Amma replied, steely resolve returning to her voice.
“I swore an oath to serve my country. Not sell it.”
Peter looked at her with newfound respect.
“You’ve got integrity, Major. But right now, we need to do two things: get you off the streets, then figure out how to rescue Zeke Haywood.”
“You know Zeke?” Major Amma asked, her suspicion flickering again.
“Not personally," Chris replied.
"But we know that he is also involved. We’re working on a pn for him... but first, we have to keep you out of the military’s crosshairs.”
Peter quickly motioned.
“And speaking of crosshairs...”
His words were cut short by the sound of breaking gss.
The group turned sharply as several figures cd in police uniforms and others in military fatigues stormed through the broken windows and doors. Fshlights and rifles filled the room in an instant.
“Drop your weapons!” one officer yelled.
Peter, thinking quickly, whispered, “Ontological logic. Escaping here’s all about rhythm. Chris, find the weak points... they haven’t fanned out evenly yet.”
Chris scanned the formation while Ruby muttered, “Uncle P, we need an actual pn.”
“Cartesian grid," Peter said, ignoring Ruby's taunting.
"They’re blocking the main exits but left the southern side weak. The Hermetic Principle of rhythm... this is a cycle, predictable movement. We’ll exploit that weak point.”
Major Amma and Paul exchanged gnces, bracing themselves as Peter whispered, “Ready for a fight if it comes to that?”
“Always!” Major Amma murmured.
“You bet!” Paul added, gripping a pistol Peter tossed him from his pack.
Shots rang out as the tension broke.
Major Amma squeezed off two rapid-fire shots, taking down a soldier and an officer with precise aim. Peter struck a police officer in the chest, sending him down permanently. Paul’s hands trembled slightly, but he managed to wound another officer just below the knee, incapacitating him.
Ruby grabbed Chris by the arm as they moved toward their escape route. Using their calcutions, Peter led the group out through a crumbling stairwell and burst into the open air.
The van roared to life as they piled in, engines screaming as Peter hit the accelerator and tore off into the night, leaving the chaos behind them.
In the aftershock within the van, Major Amma finally rexed slightly.
“You don’t know what you’ve stepped into,” she murmured, shaking her head.
“Oh, we’ve got some idea,” Peter replied grimly.
“But first thing’s first... we need a pn to get Haywood. And we’ll do it the same way we found you.”
“Mathematics?” Amma asked, disbelieving but faintly amused.
Peter grinned.
“You’d be surprised what numbers can do.”
The van roared on into the night, their next steps unspoken but clear in everyone’s minds.