Got to admit, last week did me in. Interrupted the flow of writing and made getting back on track more difficult. This is by no means a fix –fic but an attempt to completely ignore the debacle of last week and continue with the story.
Chapter 3 Let Freedom Ring
"I have nothing to declare except my genius." Oscar Wilde's response to an American customs official
Damien White should have felt more content. Knowing people in high places had paid off and within a short time, his esteemed friend called him to say that he had spoken to the woman in charge of the unit where the object had been made. "Damn it, Damien, I don't know what the hell they're busy doing making fake bugs, but I'm sure it has to do with having too much government money and too much time," he told him. He thought maybe he'd pay that division a visit to see what was going on sometime soon. It was someone in his office who suggested that it might be special unit in South Dakota that might be able to help him and that is how the Vice President came to speak to Mrs. Frederic. Now her agent would soon be on her way to see Damien to discuss how they made the insect that self-destructed. The VP hadn't asked for their cooperation. He rather insisted on it – and Mrs. Frederic suspected that there was a connection of sorts between him and the professor.
"I believe your visit will put their minds at ease, Agent Wells, that your design was created here and not copied. Just the same, the orders to have an open exchange at Harvard are coming from high up and are not to be ignored," the Sage informed HG emphasizing the word she thought HG would have the most trouble with.
"You don't expect me to give them my designs, do you? Helena asked in as respectful a tone as she could muster, but the 'hell would freeze over first' tone was there.
"What I expect is that you will be cordial in discussing the similarities. I take it you programmed it to self-destruct?" the older woman asked looking at HG over her glasses. It was one of the more ingenious parts of the whole design and HG was especially proud of it. Her Cheshire like grin told Mrs. Frederic everything she wanted to know.
"Well, they have no evidence of your work other than the ashes, so you can limit what you tell them to that," her boss suggested. Mrs. Frederic wasn't about to have the great mind of HG Wells released to the world simply because of influences.
"I am not about to …," HG started, but was cut off by the wave of a hand.
"Let's not make this about what you won't do, Agent Wells. Rather, let's make it about what you will do. And you will be on the noon flight to Boston," Mrs. Frederic said in a calm tone.
Helena stared back, all the possible retorts tossing in her head at lightning speed.
Pete flew up the stairs to pack, is what he said, but it included Skyping with his friend in Boston to tell her the good news. "I've got some business in Boston and will be back there tonight," he said to Alex. She was certain she could free up some time and meet him for dinner.
Myka could tell from his mood that Pete was looking forward to this trip. In stark contrast, Helena grumbled a little as she threw some things in a bag for what would surely only last one night.
"Sounds like Professor White has friends in high places," Myka said sitting on Helena's bed as the Brit tossed items carelessly at the bag. Myka picked up the things that missed the opening and put them into the suitcase.
"Yes, well for Mrs. Frederic to order me to go, I imagine he is very well connected. I mean, only a handful of people would have the knowledge to trace that back to the Warehouse team," Helena said, unsure that she liked how quickly this all happened.
"You'll be okay?" Myka asked folding the silk pajamas that HG had tossed in haphazardly.
"You're not worried about me going overnight to Boston, are you darling?" HG said taking a seat next to Myka.
"No, not worried – I mean it's a quick trip, but it is with … Pete," Myka said.
"Oh I would prefer that it were you as well, love, but I will be back before you know it," HG said patting her leg.
"I'm more concerned about the time there," Myka said knowing HG had not deciphered her message yet.
Helena frowned -giving thought to what Myka was trying to say. Was it just that she was going to be away overnight or was Helena always this beautiful when she was deep in thought?, Myka wondered.
"You're not concerned about us being alone in Boston are you dear?" HG asked and invaded Myka's space. "I mean, is there perhaps something...…," she said seductively in Myka's ear, "….that you want to do to make sure that I…," Helena teased. Her warm breath on Myka's ear sent shivers down her spine.
"Of course not!" Myka's left brain said as her limbic system fired on all pistons and the next thing Helen knew she was under Myka being smothered with kisses.
"Of course not," the words finally left Myka's mouth as her lips blazed a trail down Helena's neck.
Helena's words flew down a neural pathway in Myka's brain instantly setting off a raw nerve – the one buried deep behind the 'highly trained secret service agent' wall that told Myka she could handle anything. Anything - except the thought of someone else touching Helena - no matter how unreal the chance of that happening. Yeah that nerve.
"Oh my," Helena said with a joyous expression, still surprised by Myka's quick change of mood. She liked that, and she knew how to stoke the fire. "I do hope they booked us separate rooms," she joked, but Myka reached up and released her of her blouse. She knew she was being baited, but it was one of the things she loved about Helena.
"I do love pushing your buttons," Helena said slyly.
Myka leaned into her lover's ear and whispered; "And I am about to return that favor."
Myka mixed Helena a cocktail of sheer agony and wanting until the tenderly delivered release brought short gasps for air and shaking. Myka didn't speak, but her expression said it all – "You are mine, Helena G. Wells," was written all over her face.
Myka knew it wasn't the threat of being with Pete that suddenly made her so territorial. She couldn't yet put her finger on it, but that was because her fingers were otherwise engaged. Thirty minutes later, Helena emerged from her room with a smile and look of total fulfillment on her face. Pete came out of his room and took in the sight.
"Ready to go?" he asked looking HG up and down.
"Sure," HG said not really listening.
"You're ah …," Pete said, waving his finger up and down at the haphazardly buttoned blouse.
"Pardon? Oh silly me," HG said with a dreamy grin that Pete found suspicious.
"You two are….…," Pete started, but wasn't sure which emotion would drive the punch line. As usual, HG was already ahead of him.
"…the standard by which all other relationships should be measured?" Helena asked coyly.
"Whatever," Pete said not wishing to tangle with HG.
Ordinarily that word set HG on edge, but not today. She shrugged her shoulders and giggled, then practically waltzed back into her room, her previous intention forgotten. Myka heard the exchange and took it as a good sign that Helena seemed already tolerant of Pete's oddities. She wanted to ask Helena to promise not to chew him up and spit him out, but that would have shown a lack of faith in HG.
"You know, I've worked really closely with Pete on cases," Myka returned to her point.
"Yes darling, I know," HG said fixing her buttons and getting ready. "I've worked with him as well."
"Yeah, well you know he can be ….," Myka started.
"Childish?" HG asked and followed with; "Boorish? Annoying? Loud? Impertinent? Cheeky? Childish?" in rapid succession.
"You said childish twice," Myka pointed out.
"He has that particular trait in abundance," HG said eyes widening.
"So true sometimes, but he has a heart of gold, you know that right?" Myka said.
"Yes, do you know that expression goes back to the 1500's?" HG said, never too busy for a linguistic lesson.
"What? Oh yes, well remember that okay?" Myka asked.
"That Pete has a heart of a dense, soft, malleable, ductile metal? Or that the expression is from the 16th century?" HG asked sincerely.
"No, about Pete. I don't know why I'm worried," Myka laughed uncomfortably. Helena's return expression didn't comfort her at all. "I didn't know Alex was a girl. I think he asked to go because he's rekindling an old flame, " Myka said romantically.
"Well, I'm very happy for him, but I shan't stay a minute more in Boston than I need to," HG said picking up her light suitcase.
"Just bring him back alive," Myka whispered to herself.
"Why are you going again?" Artie asked when Pete came down with too much luggage for an overnight.
"I … you know…. Mrs. Frederic …. With HG…. So … you know," Pete said not sure himself.
"Yeah, I thought that was the reason. Would the remaining members of my staff care to join me in the Warehouse today or do we all have to be part of the farewell party for Twiddle Dee and Twiddle ...never mind. Let's go!" Artie yelled back.
"I want to hear all about this robobot when you get back ok? Promise me," Claudia implored her mentor. "Especially if there was video!" she teased.
"I promise," HG said smiling.
"There was no video!" Pete yelled.
Myka and Claudia got into the car as Pete and HG got in the SUV. Myka chastised herself for missing Helena moments after they went their separate ways. 'She's just going over night, geez, Myka get a grip,' she heard in her head.
"Sounds weird, but I miss them when they leave," her young cohort said of her fellow agents.
Myka smiled to think how young Claudia was, and yet how comfortable she was with herself.
HG's cell beeped when she was waiting for Pete to buy his snacks for the plane ride. "Agent Wells, there is one thing I forgot to mention," Mrs. Frederic said at the other end. "You and Agent Lattimer are going together and returning together. You are not to leave him there," the Sage instructed.
"Yes of course," HG said because getting Pete to leave with her was not going to be problem. She would simply Kenpo him if necessary.
The five hour flight leaving at noon would get them in too late for Helena to meet with the professor, so a meeting was set for first thing the next morning. That was fine with HG who changed their returning flights from six PM to noon the next day. What she had to say wouldn't take very long. Her interpretation of Mrs. Frederic's words was already taking shape. Pete on the other hand was praying for delays in Boston – maybe a little too hard.
Five hours later, they landed in Boston. Pete was on his phone as soon as they did, telling Alex he had arrived and arranging dinner.
"Hey, you'll be okay right?" he asked Helena, feeling a little guilty for leaving her.
"I assure Pete, I will manage just fine," HG smiled.
Pete grabbed a tourist brochure from one of the kiosks. "Look HG, millions of visitors come to Boston from around the world to learn about how our nation rose from humble beginnings to become the symbol of freedom. From the rebellious Boston Tea Party to Paul Revere's famous ride," Pete was reading.
"Or you could go to the U.S.S. Constitution in the harbor and read about its pivotal role against the British in the War of 1812," he read without looking at the Brit's expression. "Come on HG, this is the birthplace of the American Revolution!" he said excitedly.
"Yes, and we British never tire of hearing about it," HG said dryly.
"What? Oooh yeah, cause you're….," Pete hesitated.
"British?" HG asked ironically.
"Well, I was going to say sore loser, but okay yeah we can go with British," Pete said putting the brochure away.
"I assure you, Mr. Lattimer; even a Brit can find amusement in Beantown, so please rush off to your dinner of whatever it is you have to do. I will be at the hotel should you need me," HG assured him.
"OK and call me if you need me, but only like if it's an emergency. Like you try to take over Faneuil Hall or something," Pete said. "What? I've seen you hold onto a grudge," he said defensively.
"Be off with you Mr. Lattimer before I forget I promised Myka I would not harm you," HG said and she wasn't kidding.
Pete took his leave anxious to see Alex who was waiting at a restaurant near Harvard Square. Helena got in a cab and headed to the hotel. Upon hearing her accent, the Bostonian driver asked if she was English. "Yes, I am," Helena smiled.
"You guys ever going to give Ireland back?" the man asked in his native accent.
Helena groaned and slid back into the seat. She just wanted to get to the hotel, get into a hot bath, and call Myka.
Damien White was on the phone with Ted. "Has she arrived yet?" he asked his head of security.
"Yes sir, just checking in to room 614," Ted reported back.
"Make sure she stays there. I'm on my way," the professor said.
He slammed the phone down on his desk and opened the drawer. Damien White needed answers and he needed them quickly. He had buyers in other countries that were promised he would deliver the only robobot of its kind. Now he had to make sure that the US Government didn't have something better. He opened the drawer and took out the gun and put it in his briefcase.
He was going to do what free enterprise called for – dispose of the competition.
Thanks for continuing to read. I know there are many stories out there that are more soothing at this time.
Always appreciate your feedback, thoughts, etc.