The Net: Dog: Chapter 4
"Ah, Agent Resh. I assume you've figured everything out, have you? Think you can get away with her? Save your bonnie lass? Eh?"
Jacob was thankful that the Praetorians slept further away from the kitchens. Sean had no clue the mansion was burning down as he spoke. And he wouldn't know until it was too late.
"So you know who I am," Jacob said. "What's it to you? If you kill me, someone will come looking for me, you know."
"I've got FBI clearance. I can easily get rid of you without anyone suspecting a thing."
Jacob noticed that Angela wasn't even crying. She hardly seemed affected by what had obviously occurred between she and Sean. That only served to let Jacob know this wasn't the first time, and he shuddered at the thought of what the man had been doing while he had her for three whole years.
"Well, perhaps it would please you to know that I was sent here to arrest Liz Marx in the first place," Jacob tried.
"Yes, that you were, I'm sure. But that's not the real reason you came. You have personal involvement in her case. You wouldn't turn her into the FBI. That's why we were brought in, to capture her and make sure she didn't escape again."
"That doesn't work for me, Sean Trelawney. I know all about the Praetorian Guard. You're not real FBI. You were never RCMP, or any cop for that matter."
"Hmmm, yes, I thought you might. Being Sorcerer and all. Of course, you were the one we were after all along. And we knew you'd do anything to get her back. We knew you'd show up for her. And now we've got you."
"That's only what you want to think. You don't have me, Trelawney. You only wish you did."
Regaining composure, Jacob reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out the hand gun he'd grabbed from Sean's desk and grinned. The poor man in his pajamas wasn't carrying a weapon on him. Jacob watched the man's eyes widen as he inched to the wall, his hand still on Angela's shoulder, and reach for the closest alarm system. Without looking at it, he punched a code into the keypad, probably alerting everyone of his imminent danger. When nothing happened he glanced at the system and did a double take.
"Yes, Sean, I am smarter than you think. The alarm systems are all dead. Not only that, but I think you'll find, if you go down to the kitchen a fire is well under way. You're all going to die here, whether you want to or not, while Angela and I make our escape."
Trelawney's eyes went wider with fear.
"Let her go."
The Praetorian's grasp loosened on her shoulder. Jacob motioned for her to come to his side. She left Trelawney, and walked slowly to Jacob. While Jacob was happy, nearly elated that she'd willingly switched sides to join him, he knew she was only following orders.
"Get down on your knees," Jacob instructed Trelawney. "Hands behind your head."
Sean did as he was told, though with a slight chuckle. "What, you're going to arrest me? What good is that going to do? I've got contacts. I'll get out of it slicker than a whistle."
"I wasn't planning on arresting you," Jacob put the muzzle of the gun to the back of his head. "I was planning on sending you to hell."
He pulled the trigger once and watched as his enemy fell to the floor in a heap. Thrusting the weapon back into his pocket, he turned to find Angela curled up in a ball on the floor, tucked as far as she could into the corner. Already he could smell smoke and knew this time it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.
"Come on, Angel, we need to get out of here," he spoke soothingly to her, as he approached her.
She pulled away from him, staring at him in fear. She didn't know him anymore. And in his attempts to reacquaint her with who he was, he'd left out the fact that he'd had FBI training. He could handle weapons, he could arrest people. He wasn't exactly the Jacob she'd remember.
"Angel, I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I changed your identity back. The cops can't touch you now."
Falling to his knees beside her, he felt hot tears sliding down his face.
"I've spent all this time looking for you. I know the FBI wants to arrest you as Liz Marx. But they can't. You're not her, and I won't let them. Angel, I..." he knew he had to tell her the truth about her new identity. He couldn't leave that out, like he'd left out his training earlier. "I put you in as my sister. I can take care of you that way. Make sure no one hurts you ever again. I love you. Please, Angel, just believe me. You've got to believe me!"
Smoke was starting to billow up the staircase, and he knew the fire was spreading faster and faster as he spoke.
"You have to come with me. I'm not leaving here without you. Even if it kills me."
Angela looked from the smoke to Jacob and back again.
"Please!" he begged.
She looked up into his worried eyes, and slowly reached her arms out to him. Relief flooded Jacob's veins as he picked her up into his arms and held her close. Dashing down the smoke filled stairs he wished he'd also had firefighter training as well. The second floor was already wreathed in flames. The main stairs were crumbling between the second and the first floors. Changing direction Jacob ran for the back staircase near his tiny closet of a bedroom. They were filled with smoke, but no flames yet. He charged down them and stopped in his tracks.
There was no way he was going to get through without getting burned. The floor was covered in flames. But he had to get through, he had to get Angela out of there, and he had to find an alarm system to lock everyone else in, to ensure their death. He pulled Angela closer to him and tried to cover her face as he ran through the fire to the closest door.
He could feel the heat breaking his skin open, as he did his best to protect Angela. Reaching the door after what seemed like forever, Jacob pulled the cover off the alarm system, and rewired it before the fire had a chance to reach that far. He slipped through the front door just as the fresh oxygen reinvigorated the fire and it burst after him until the door shut and locked behind him. Reaching the main gate, he disarmed the gate's separate alarm system and escaped with Angela, hearing the screams of the Praetorian Guard as they woke to the sound of the roaring fire, and the smoke filling their bedrooms.
Standing a long distance away Jacob set Angela down and wrapped his arms around her as they watched the mansion burn together. Tears slipped down his face and dripped onto her shoulder. They'd done horrible things to her. They'd killed the Angela he knew. But she was free of them now. Free to start her life over again. And he would be with her every step of the way.
Once he was sure there was no possible way a single Praetorian could escape the eternal fires of hell he'd thrown them into, he took Angela's shoulders in his hands and turned her around to face him. Her eyes were big and sad. But also scared, as if she had no clue what was in store for her next. The place that had been her home for three years, the place she'd never left, had just been destroyed and she was outside the gate standing with a man she hardly knew.
"I've got the key, to take that collar off," he whispered, as if she would bolt and run away if he spoke any louder.
She stood there, without saying a word, letting him take charge of her, of her life, of her body, because that was what she was used to for the last three years. She'd forgotten everything else. This was what she knew. If Jacob took down the Praetorians, it stood to reason he would be her keeper from now on, holding her as a slave in his own house.
He reached into his pocket and brought out the key.
"I'm just going to take it off. Can you just stand still for me? I promise this won't hurt."
He was a little apprehensive about taking it off. Her throat was so raw and he could clearly see bits of dried blood here and there. Having a doctor present might be a good idea, but Angela wouldn't trust anyone else. It would take too long. Slowly he reached out and took hold of the harsh metal collar. Angela flinched but didn't make a sound.
"It will be ok. I'm going to do this as quick as possible. Ready?"
She nodded, as if she had no other choice. Before he could change his mind, Jacob thrust the key into the lock in the collar on the side of her neck, and turned. Pulling the collar open he made sure the hinge on the other side didn't pinch her. When it came loose its weight pulled it to the ground.
Underneath was a terrifying site. Much of her skin had been rubbed completely raw by the collar and what little that had been left had gotten stuck to the metal and ripped away when it fell. Fresh blood came to the surface of her skin, and began running down her neck to soak into the one piece of clothing she owned.
Without thinking Jacob took off his own shirt to stop the bleeding. But upon seeing him shed his clothing Angela took a brief step backward, eyes wide with fear, staring at him. And Jacob knew why.
Hot stinging tears came to his eyes, as he tried to sooth her, "It's ok, Angel. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. I promise I won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. It's just that you're bleeding. I want to stop the bleeding," he tried, doing his best to hold back the tears. "Can I? Can I stop the bleeding?"
He offered his shirt to her and without a sound she took a step towards him, allowing him to carefully wrap the soft cloth around her wounded neck.
"Angel, I've got a car not too far away from here. If it's still there, I want to head into Chicago since we're close. I can get us a hotel room there, and patch up your neck, get you some new clothes. Ok?"
Angela nodded submissively. He wanted nothing than to shake her and tell her that if she didn't want that she could say so. But he couldn't. He needed to take care of her. It would be a long, slow process to get her back to her old self, or as close to her old self as he could get her. No matter how much he told her right now that she was her own person, that she could make her own choices in life, she would still do whatever he told her. Besides that, he was all she had. It wasn't like she could go somewhere called 'home' or go to another hotel on her own. She had no money. She had nothing. Except Jacob.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
She nodded again and they started off.
Jacob didn't know what else to tell her, there was so much, so he kept quiet instead and led her back into town to the small side street where his car was miraculously still parked. Well, it was a standard government issue car, no one would mess with it, for fear of the government coming after them.
The town was still sound asleep this late at night. With the mansion so far up the hill no one heard or saw a thing. Everyone slept on. And for that, Jacob was great full.
Approaching his car Angela stopped short and stared at it. It could have been similar to what the Praetorians had kidnaped her in that fateful day they tried to get her identity back. And that could have been the last time she saw a car. Anything was possible.
Jacob found himself consoling her again, letting her know that everything was ok. He helped her into the car and buckled her seatbelt for her before closing her door and walking back to the trunk where he opened a small suitcase on wheels and brought out a clean t-shirt to slide into.
Angela was silent the whole way into Chicago, as silent as she had always been. Jacob was hoping within a few days he could take her in to see the doctor he'd played online chess with a few years ago, back when he had still been Sorcerer. He'd treated a bullet wound she'd had once and because she knew the great Sorcerer he hadn't gone to the cops. He would be the one, the only one, to trust with Angela's health. But first Jacob had to get her out of her shell a little bit. If she didn't remember Jacob, chances are she wouldn't remember Steven Graff either.
Those hot, stinging tears he'd held back earlier returned in a rush and ran down his face to soak his shirt. He wanted nothing right then other than to stop the car and gather her in his arms and sob until he was as dry as the desert. But he knew he couldn't. She would shy away from him and he had to be strong for her, to help her get strong again.
Several hours later they arrived at a large hotel and he was able to get them a room in the back, where they could come and go through a back entrance.
"Are you ready?" he asked when he'd parked the car right next to the rear door.
There was no response from her for several seconds and then, in a barely audible whisper, "yes."
The whole ride from the small town to the big city she'd stared straight ahead, never moving her head to look out the side window or to rest it in a hand. Nothing. And now he understood why. Not only was it probably ingrained in her from her years at the Praetorian mansion, but her neck was probably stiff, and very painful. He'd checked it once when he'd stopped at a drug store to get some medical supplies. It had stopped bleeding, though his shirt was soaked red.
Once upstairs, he was unsure how to proceed. Lord knew she needed a shower, and badly. But she also needed to have her wounds looked at. Which should be done first? And then there was the problem of clothes. All she had was what she had on, and that would be thrown out as soon as she took it off to shower.
"The best I have to offer you right now is what I packed for myself," he said as she sat down on one of the beds he'd motioned to. "I promise they're clean."
"Ok," she whispered.
"You'd best take a shower first. Just be careful of your neck. Before you change I'll bandage your neck for you."
Angela got up and headed for the bathroom. She was taking what he said as orders. All he wanted now was some form of rejection from her. For her to not want to shower. For her to turn around and say 'no'. But she didn't. He wanted to offer to help, knowing what her bathroom at the mansion was like, with no shower, not even a bathtub. But he also knew that was a bad idea. He had to build her trust back up again, slowly. Even if it killed him.
