Chapter Three: Cat and Mouse
OR
Let the Games Begin
STEVIE'S POV
Scribbling down the last of my observations for the morning onto my clipboard, I tuck the pen back into my pocket and look at the lagoon, just as a large black shadow swims past. Mamasita, a 30 foot genetically enhanced mako shark, is the single biggest fish this side of Long Island. And it's my job to take care of her. Brilliant.
I drop my hand down against the tip of the water just as Mamasita's baby, Nemo, swims against my hand and the door to my office opens. I turn as Amy Dumas, my assistant, steps onto the platform, holding a tray of salmon and other random fish.
"Good morning, Amy," I say and she smiles, her dimples showing.
"Good morning, Doctor Richards," she responds and pulls the salmon from the tray. She steps onto the walkway surrounding the fenced in lagoon and drops the fish into the water. I watch through the mesh plating as Mamasita swims back towards the edge and guzzles down the fish, chewing it between her razor-sharp teeth. I shudder as Amy feeds Nemo as well.
Before I was a marine biologist, I was a psychiatrist working at an asylum in Carson City under terrible conditions. Five of my patients escaped, but you probably already knew that. Kane, Raven, Daffney, Abyss and Mankind still haven't been caught, to my knowledge, (except for Abyss who is dead) and are probably searching my hometown for me. I pity them; they'll never suspect I moved across the border. Now I look after giant, man eating fish. How ironic.
As Amy steps away from the lagoon railing and back into the office, a loud explosion ricochets from the inner city, rattling the windows. I jump and block her from the breaking glass as it clatters to the floor. Looking up through the window, my eyes widen as explosion after explosion illuminates the cloudy sky. Los Angeles International Airport ignites in flames below.
"What the hell is going on?" Amy shouts as I jump to my feet. Five figures walk away from LAX, one very tall and very pale.
Oh no.
I reach for the phone and dial, hearing the phone ring and ring and ring.
Please pick up.
~X~
PHIL'S POV
Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring.
I slowly open my eyes to the sound of the phone ringing, groaning as that persistent sound buzzes around my head. Morgan, my wife and mother to my children, moves in between my arms and reaches her slender, scarred arm out from underneath the dooner. Her fingers curl around the receiver and she presses answer on the phone, placing it against her ear.
"Hello?"
I raise my head and look at the clock on my side of the bed to check the time. Four in the afternoon. I groan and throw my head back, running my fingers through my slick, black hair. On my one night off, the phone has to ring. Wonderful. See, Morgan is a police officer who patrols at night with her partner, Morris. Me, I work at an asylum three days a week as a night doctor for those with chronic insomnia and five very special cases. Well they used to be, before they escaped and tried to kill me! They also tried to kill my partner, Stevie. Tried being the emphasized word. They failed, multiple times, to kill the some-what sadistic doctor. I changed jobs to keep me and my family safe; now I'm a professional wrestler. Talk about a leap.
"Hold ya horses, Richards, I'll put him on." Morgan turns her head to look at me. A bandana covers the bottom half of her face, hiding the scars she received at the orphanage she grew up in and the scars received in the fire that killed her parents. Well, one of them. The other was a patient of mine, but more on that story later.
I take the phone from her and look at the blank wall.
"We have a problem," Stevie says on the other line. I raise an eyebrow.
"What kind of problem?" I ask, still half asleep. I yawn just as he answers.
"The 'Kane and his whacko friends have found me and I'm gonna die, come help me' kind of problem. THEY BLEW UP LAX!" I hold the receiver away from my ear as he yells this and close an eye, looking to my wife. She giggles, a sound I don't hear very often.
I deal with Stevie and hang up, pulling on my jeans and a plain black t-shirt.
"What's wrong?" Morgan asks from the bed as she switches on the lamp. I pull my hair into a tight pony-tail and look at her, taking her in. Standing at 5"11 with long red hair and skin as white as snow, my Morgan is truly something beautiful. She'll deny it and say she's a monster because of her scars and fragile esteem, but I think she's amazing. Maybe I'm biased. Either that or she was sent to me from heaven.
My eyes run up her pale white legs and up to her thighs, sneaking a peek between her legs before she crosses them. Sitting there in my Chicago Bulls basketball jersey and her hair all frizzy, she looks frighteningly cute.
"You're old man is back and he means business," I say calmly. Her temple twitches; her father is a very sensitive subject to her. Being the cop daughter of the single most wanted serial killer in the entire country has made her job very difficult. Three years ago, Morgan was put on the case to track down and find her father, and put him in prison, but she failed when her family ties got in the way.
"What did he do?" she asks and I sigh, pulling on my doctor's coat and tightening the rubber band in my hair.
"Sent Los Angeles into chaos by blowing up LAX. I've gotta give Stevie some back up." I pull my gun from the top draw and put it into my pocket, keeping it safe.
"I'll come with you," Morgan says and climbs from the bed, pulling on her sweats. Before she can do anything else, I'm on her like a moth to a flame. I push her back onto the bed and stare into her beautiful mis-matched eyes. One green, one blue, completely breath-taking.
"You stay and look after our babies," I state firmly, referring to Narrissa and Gabriel, our five-year-old twin babies. The bandana moves, and I know she's chewing on her lip, as usual. It's her way of biting back an insult or a sarcastic barb, two things she's known for.
"But he's my father," she says finally and I shake my head, crouching down, I look up into her eyes and she stares back.
"He's my problem. Stay here. If I need you, I'll call. I promise." I kiss her temple and return to packing a bag, getting ready to leave to help my partner and my best friend hopefully kill four mental patients that can't be sedated, even with the most powerful drugs.
I hope we can do this.
