Major Mistake, part 2
A sequel to 'Major Mistake', as requested: What happened to Major Bachman? How did Hannibal escape at the airport? Another story, another experiment...
Disclaimer: I don't own Hannibal, Clarice or any other character from the Hannibal Lecter series, nor intend to make any money with the fanfic, etc. etc. etc.
This sequal takes place right after these lines from part 1:
Clarice walked past Major Bachman, who remained in the door opening. She didn't see him looking at her as she walked away, holding the file securely to her chest.
"A sight for sore eyes," said Major Bachman sniggering. He then called in two troopers and ordered them to remove his straightjacket.
"Take off his straightjacket, he's no longer on the plane."
The troopers looked at each other and hesitated for a moment.
"He's in our custody now," said the Major, standing with his arms across his chest, all puffed up."He's got handcuffs on and he's chained to the chair. He's harmless. Take it off. And the hockey mask as well."
After a final hesitation, the troopers acquiesced.
"Now, leave us alone. I've got some more questions for him."
"Perhaps these gentlemen could be of further assistance for a moment? I'd like to use the toilet over there. It's been a while since I last relieved my bladder, it was before we left from Baltimore."
This hangar's absolutely perfect; meant to keep people outside, not inside. Just a big hall with security measures to keep a eye on what's happening on the outside. But now, they're watching the inside. / Clarice. Looking for butterflies while you're still a caterpillar yourself. / The two troopers look at each other, dumbstruck by my unexpected request. As I anticipated - they aren't often asked, most certainly not in a polite way. They won't refuse. / It's nothing more than a strip of rooms on one side of the building. Best of all: I didn't see a door to the mechanical room on the inside. / The Major won't keep them from helping - he'll only interfere, pretend to be the one in charge. There you go - he's even ordering them how to unchain me, while making sure I'll behave - at gunpoint. / This briefing room is like a closed box. No windows. A massive door that can be locked. Perfect. And how convenient - they wished to be able to reposition these separation walls easily. They only reach the dropped ceiling, leaving one big plenum space above. / No worries, gentlemen, it's not time yet, I'll behave myself.
"Thank you. It won't take longer than a minute or two, I assure you."
The shorter one, Davies, is a clever guy to hold the other end of my chain on the other side of the door. But they're not keeping an eye on me - as expected… / Cubum autem in duos cubos, aut quadratoquadratum in duos quadratoquadratos, et generaliter nullam in infinitum ultra quadratum potestatem in duos eiusdem nominis fas est dividere cuius rei demonstrationem mirabilem sane detexi. Hanc marginis exiguitas non caperet. / To work now - let's retrieve that key. I hope Barney won't get into trouble for this. Knowing Chilton, he might though. Flush the toilet.
"I'm all ready, gentlemen."
And as a caterpillar, Clarice, you should eat. Eat what you can while in the FBI, then you'll become a butterfly and fly. Fly, my butterfly, fly. / Now that I think about it, Clarice does remind me of Sophie Germain: novel approach to things and unable to make a career in a gender-biased society. / You can wave that gun as you please, Major. I'm not that stupid, to try to escape now. Once Tom and Dick are outside and we're alone and you think I'm safely chained to the chair is when the fun begins. Yes, as before; my feet chained to the chair, the handcuffs through the chain is all that keeps me from moving my arms. Perfect.
"Thank you, officers. I'm as comfortable as can be."
The look on their faces is priceless - they've obviously heard only gruesome stories about me. / Did she recognize my hints? Will she connect my inquiry about taking out her jacket with what Jame is doing? / Here we go, the Major's dismissing them. If he could only see himself - the pompous fool. Thinks he'll be able to get his petty revenge on me. Doesn't lock the door, though.
"Lecter, Hannibal. You son of a bitch."
"I am aware my name and reputation often precedes my presence, too bad you only got the former right. Maybe we should have been properly introduced. Should we call in the Senator, perhaps?"
Seeing, you see not and hearing, you hear not, Clarice. You don't understand.
"You really think you're a smart ass, eh? I'll teach you a thing or two before you leave this room..."
He really thinks flexing his muscles is impressive. Let's humor him, let him think I'm afraid of him. Look at him with big eyes of fear. / y^2 = x (x - a^p) (x + b^p)
"Yeah, when I'm done with you, you'll be sorry for making fun of me. And if you scream, I'll make things even worse!"
Here he comes. I'll be in my memory palace, Major, looking outside through my windows to see what you're doing. Hm, that's not very impressive, major. Afraid to be caught after all? A scared bully is all you are. Just a moment longer… / I admit the Major was right about one thing: you are a sight for sore eyes, Clarice. / Okay, this is it. I'll look at the door and pretend the Senator's at the door, I'm sure he'll follow my lead. As expected. Now is the moment to spit out the key. Perfect. Pick it up and open one side; that's enough. / Ribet's proof to Frey's intuition is of major importance, I feel the solving of Fermat's Last Theorem is close.
"You think you're funny? The Senator's not here and she won't help you anyway. She's got the information she needed, she doesn't need you anymore, you little shit."
"You…"
"What? "
"You… you're not in high school anymore."
Ah yes, come closer…
"You… think they feared you? Bullying them around?"
Closer… almost… and… we're there! Strike. His throat. And speechless he is. Now his head - down he goes. / When everybody thinks you're always beating around the bush, they won't recognize when you speak the truth. People will say we're in love. Will she see the truth? / He put the key to the chain in his pocket, I should be able to reach it. Okay. Now, where is it? Ah, there it is. Insert, twist, … and unlocked I am. Break his neck. Snip snap. Now, lock the door - quietly. I don't hear or smell anybody close by. So self assured they are. That's the main reason they'll always fail at some point, and that's where I strike. Write a goodbye note first, before blood will spoil it. May I borrow your pen, Major? Thank you, I knew you wouldn't mind. I'll throw in a reference to a ducking stool, for fun. Keep his pants and T-shirt for later, rip up everything else. / She will understand my comment in the file, I'm sure. She'll be piqued by my use of the word desperately. / Are you ready, Major? I am. / All we need to prove is the Taniyama–Shimura conjecture of the modularity theorem. / Tear open his jugular vein and soak the remains of his clothes with his blood, make sure they won't be able to tell what is what. And let's use his medals creatively, that will fix their attention when they find him. Remove his jaw first; let's just rip it out. Shall I take his tongue with me? No, it would hinder me. I'll make them think I took it, though. I'll drop it somewhere along the way. Pin those medals in his face. Two in his eyes - stars and stripes. Through his nose, like a bull. One of his earlobes is already pierced, let's pierce his other one as well. Splendid. And the rest, ah well, one here, one there - we'll make you shine, Major. / We covet what we see every day. Don't you feel eyes darting over you when you walk? I see you every day in my palace… / Okay. Limbs next. Yes, why not - let's remove long strips of hide and flesh, revealing the bones beneath, and leave those strips all over the place. This medal has sharp enough edges. Right arm first... yes… and now the left. / How to prove that all such elliptic curves must be modular? / His legs, what shall we do with them? Hm, how about twisting off a foot? Here we go... I'll put a foot in his mouth. Well, where his mouth used to be. What else shall we do with his legs, to scare them? Ah yes, break them, give them more flexibility and create something impressive with them. Let's tie them into a knot… I should be going now, this has taken long enough. The image is lasting enough as it is. Lift that ceiling panel carefully. Don't drop any dust or damage it. Wouldn't want them to see too soon I escaped through the plenum space. As I expected: one big plenum space. I can see the mechanical room at the end. Okay, here we go… / Butterflies are attracted by light. Will you come flying to me, my butterfly? / Nobody in the next room? Careful… no sound! / Maybe Ribet's proof inspired someone. / Drop to the floor gently. Indeed - a door to the outside, with a crash bar. Perfect. Suppose someone got trapped in here, right? No, that would be inhuman. / Caterpillar to butterfly and cub to lioness. / Let's see what might be of use in here. Ah, some cloths. Wipe the blood away. And an abandoned overall - splendid. Now, the door. A Reed switch - that's easy. Is there some rope or tape around? Yes, there. Tape the switch together… now take it down carefully… done! Do I hear anything outside? No. Good. Okay, let's go…
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