THE COLLECTOR
1151 Words
The message arrived with no signature, no return address. Just a threat.
Elliot read it three times, his jaw tight. "You've taken something that belongs to me. I want it back." Frank stood beside him, scanning the tablet.
"We don't even know who sent it," Frank said.
"We know he runs the mobile facility. We know he has resources. That's enough."
Adam spoke from his computer. "I traced the message. It originated from a satellite link, bounced through multiple servers. But I got a hit on the final relay. It's coming from a location in the desert. Same region where we found the mobile facility."
Elliot nodded. "Then that's where we go."
---
The drive took six hours.
Elliot sat in the passenger seat, watching the desert scroll past. Frank drove. Kael was in the back, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
"You think he'll talk?" Kael asked.
"He'll have no choice."
"He's not like Viktor. He's not a true believer. He's a businessman. Copies are products to him."
"Then we show him they're not."
---
The compound was hidden in a canyon, surrounded by cliffs.
Elliot's team approached on foot, staying low. The guards were mercenaries—same as before—but there were more of them. At least fifty.
Frank raised his binoculars. "We can't take them head-on."
"We don't have to. We just need to get to the leader."
Kael pointed to a ridge on the north side. "There's a drainage pipe that leads to the main building. It's narrow, but it's passable."
Elliot looked at Frank. "Same as before."
"It's worked before."
---
The pipe was dark and cold.
Elliot crawled through the dirt, his knees scraping against the concrete. Frank followed. Kael brought up the rear.
The pipe ended at a grate. Elliot pushed it open.
They were inside.
---
The building was quiet.
Too quiet.
Elliot raised his hand, signaling the team to stop. Frank listened at a door.
"I hear voices," Frank whispered. "One. Maybe two."
Elliot nodded. "We go in fast."
He kicked the door open.
---
The room was an office.
A desk. A computer. A man sitting behind the desk. He was young—maybe thirty—with dark hair and cold eyes. He wore a tailored suit, no insignia.
"You're Elliot Reed," the man said. "I've been expecting you."
Elliot raised his rifle. "Who are you?"
"My name is Damien. I run the mobile facility. I create copies. I sell them. I transport them. And you've been stealing from me."
"They're not yours to sell."
"They're mine to create. Mine to control. Mine to profit from."
Elliot stepped closer. "Not anymore."
---
Damien smiled. "You think you can stop me? I have facilities all over the world. Copies in every country. You can't touch them all."
"I can touch you."
"And then what? Someone else takes my place. The business doesn't stop. It just changes hands."
Frank moved to the side, his rifle aimed at Damien's chest. "You're coming with us."
"I don't think so."
Damien pressed a button on his desk.
The building shook.
"What did you do?" Elliot shouted.
"I activated the self-destruct. Same as Morgan. Same as the Shepherd. You have ten minutes."
Frank grabbed Elliot's arm. "We need to go."
"Where?"
"The way we came."
They ran.
---
The pipe was dark and cold.
Elliot crawled through the dirt, his lungs burning. Frank followed. Kael brought up the rear.
They reached the grate. Elliot pushed it open.
They were outside.
---
The compound exploded behind them.
Elliot stood in the desert, watching the flames.
Frank walked up beside him. "Damien?"
"Inside."
"Dead?"
"Probably. But I wouldn't count on it."
---
The trip back was quiet.
Elliot sat in the van, staring out the window. Frank drove.
The base was quiet when they returned.
Daphne met him at the entrance. "You're alive."
"Barely."
"The copies from the mobile facility are settling in. Charlotte is taking care of them."
Elliot nodded. "Good."
---
The days that followed were busy.
Elliot traveled to meet with government officials, copy rights organizations, and human rights groups. He testified at hearings. He gave interviews. He told the story of the copies—their creation, their suffering, their hope for a future.
Frank stayed at the base, running security. Marcus trained the volunteers. Adam managed the data.
One night, Elliot found Frank on the roof.
"You're thinking again," Frank said.
"I'm always thinking."
"About what?"
"About Damien. About Morgan. About the Shepherd. There's always someone else."
"Yes. There is."
"How do we stop them?"
"We don't. We just keep fighting."
Elliot was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I'm tired."
"I know."
"But I can't stop."
"Then don't. But let us help."
---
The next morning, a message arrived.
A young woman, her face pale, her hands shaking.
"Are you Elliot Reed?"
"Yes."
"I have a message. From Damien."
Elliot's blood ran cold. "He's alive?"
"He's in the city. He wants to meet."
---
The meeting was at a coffee shop.
Elliot walked through the door, alone, unarmed. Damien was sitting in a booth in the corner, a cup of coffee in front of him.
"You came," Damien said.
"You said you wanted to talk."
"I do."
Elliot sat across from him. "Talk."
Damien leaned forward. "I've been thinking about what you said. About the copies not being products."
"And?"
"And I think you're right. Not because I believe it. Because the world believes it. And if the world believes it, I need to adapt."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'm getting out of the copy business. Selling my facilities. Destroying my research. Disappearing."
"Why should I believe you?"
Damien pulled out a tablet. "Because I'm giving you this. A list of every facility. Every copy. Every buyer. Everything."
Elliot took the tablet. "Why?"
"Because I want to live. And if I don't do this, you'll hunt me down. And eventually, you'll find me."
Elliot stood up. "This doesn't make us even."
"I know. But it's a start."
---
Damien kept his word.
Facilities were shut down. Copies were freed. Buyers were exposed.
Elliot watched from the command center as the reports came in.
Adam smiled. "It's working."
"It's starting."
Frank walked up beside him. "You did it."
"We did it."
"What now?"
"Now we help the copies who are freed. Find them homes. Give them lives."
"That's going to take years."
"We have years."
---
That night, Elliot dreamed of the garden.
Echo was there, sitting on the bench beneath the tree.
"You did it," Echo said.
"We did it."
"You stopped Damien."
"He stopped himself."
Echo smiled. "That's the same thing."
Elliot sat beside him. "Is it ever going to end?"
"No. But that's okay."
"Why?"
"Because you're not alone."
Echo put a hand on his shoulder.
Elliot closed his eyes.
When he opened them, the garden was gone.
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