Life after Lies
By FadingSilverStar16
Chapter 6
Mother
"Y'know, you look awfully familiar," commented the Panda Express worker as she prepared my order a little later. "Like I've seen you on TV or something." I let the corner of my lip turn upward slightly as I pulled out a few bills to pay her.
"Yeah, I get that a lot."
I would never forget the events of the next day for the rest of my life.
My breakfast had been sacrificed to Noah that morning, leaving my stomach painfully empty. It wasn't too unbearable, and he needed it more than I did, anyway.
So I wandered the streets of downtown for a while, hunting for a decent coffee joint where I could load myself up with caffeine. Rain still beat down upon the ever-busy city, and all seemed cloaked in a dull gray haze. It was hard to focus on the weather, though. Traffic was a mess, and I was kind of glad I'd decided to brave the rain and walk around that day. Sirens and car horns blared obnoxiously, and my eardrums throbbed in pain. Did these people know anything about patience?
Fed up, I ducked into the nearest place with a sign saying "Cafe" that I could find, and the first thing I did after entering was sigh in relief. The racket wasn't completely gone, but at least I was now able to tune it out.
Finally able to think straight again, I took in my surroundings and noted that this was the most interesting coffee shack I'd seen in a while. It actually looked more like an abandoned Old West saloon than a coffee shop. A single wooden chandelier hung above, illuminating the store with what looked like real candles. A few tables and chairs, also made of wood, were scattered around the room, and aside from a woman sitting to the far left and the one employee pretending to busy herself with something, the place was completely empty.
It was no Starbucks, but it would have to do. Anything to be away from the noise.
The warm, burnt smell that inhabited all cafes grew stronger as I approached the counter. If the cashier heard my slightly squeaky footsteps, she certainly didn't show it.
I cleared my throat after a moment or two, and the woman tore her gaze away from her magazine to smile a bland smile at me.
"Welcome. How may I help you?" she said, not doing a very good job of hiding her disinterest. I didn't bother to smile back.
'A large Columbia. Black, please." The worker nodded as I paid her, and proceeded with preparing my order.
"Have a nice day," she said with a little more effort a few minutes later, handing me my drink.
"Thanks," I replied.
Curious about tasting something new, I walked a few paces toward the condiments stand and cautiously popped off the top of the cup. Upon taking a first sip, I actually raised me eyebrows. Impressive. It needed a little creamer and sugar, though, so I continued my way to the little black table where I could find them.
As I emptied a pack of sugar into my treat, I noticed that the woman who had been sitting earlier was now next to me, adding some chocolate powder to her beverage. Black hair on the verge of gray hung just below her shoulders, and long, slender fingers stirred her coffee oh-so-daintily.
She looked familiar, to say the least, but those characteristics didn't alarm me much at first. There were lots of women with shoulder length black hair, slender hands, Shay Chardonnay Red Lipstick Version Two, Limited Edition Candice Umbridge Designer Heels, Lovely Laces satin gloves. Surely, no respectable woman in her early fifties would be caught dead without those. I didn't know this lady, and she didn't know me-
Oh my God.
It took all of my self control to keep from pouring my coffee down my shirt to make sure I wasn't crazy.
There, on the fourth finger of her right hand, was a ridiculously large, emerald studded, custom made, Premium Alice Melange diamond wedding ring.
I was standing next to my mother.
First Noah, now this?
Thoroughly shocked, I quickly bowed my head, letting my short hair fall over my eyes. She was the last person I would let know that I was still alive. If she found me out, it was all over, and what mother wouldn't recognize her own daughter?
My eyes darted up to look outside of the clear glass entrance doors of the shop. There was still a massive pileup of cars and rain still poured down, but all that now seemed like minor inconveniences that I could easily deal with compared to this. I had to get out of here.
"Um, Miss?"
Crap.
I sucked in a breath and plastered on polite smile, looking in her direction. The expression on my mother's face was peculiar. She looked...concerned?
"Doesn't that hurt?" She gestured to my right hand, which was holding my drink at a slight angle. The scalding liquid ran down my hand and wrist, turning the skin bright red. The burning sensation that I hadn't even paid attention to before sent horrid chills down my spine.
"Agh! Dammit!" I cursed, setting the cup down and shaking the hot substance off of my hand. It began to cool after an instant, leaving an uncomfortable, throbbing pain in its wake.
Hissing, I grabbed a nearby napkin and began to wipe my hand off at an agonizingly slow pace, glancing up at her every few seconds and hoping she would just loose interest and go away. She stood there, eyes fixed on me in an intense and slightly disbelieving stare, and I prayed for a way out.
She parted her lips, getting ready to speak. My heart skipped a beat.
"You look-" the loud buzzing of my PDA silenced her, and I whipped it out, thankful for the welcome distraction.
It was Rhodes. They needed me down at headquarters. I was out of the door before Mom could say another word.
Rain still came down hard and the sound of car horns still rang in my ears as loudly as before, but all I could focus on was the torrent of emotions swirling around in my chest. Had that just really happened, or had my mind conjured up some sick, surreal fantasy to drag me into the depths of insanity?
Suddenly, my right hand stung sharply. Yeah, I wasn't dreaming.
I reached my car in about five minutes. With a twist of the keys and the rumble of the engine, I was speeding down the street. That image of my Mom staring at me would forever be engraved into my brain, but I was at least able to push it away for now.
Plus, I had more important things to worry about.
Just like the other day, Rhodes and his henchmen were waiting for me in conference room B224, along with DeMiller. My footfalls making light thuds on the carpet, I took a seat without saying a word. Rhodes didn't greet me this time. After a few more seconds of staring at his computer screen, the man cleared his throat, eyebrows furrowed.
"I got a message from him the other day..." he stated. "He wants to have a video session.
I quirked an eyebrow slightly.
"It sounds like he may want to negotiate," said DeMiller with a slight shrug. "Maybe the whole 'salt in the wound' thing was enough." My stomach dropped upon hearing the word "salt".
The glow of the computer screen shining on his face, Rhodes rolled his eyes.
"I highly doubt that. Now, Guy told me that he would initiate contact at 3 'o clock sharp. I have 2:59, so it looks like all we have to do is-" A loud chirp sounded from his laptop, interrupting him. Before making a move to accept the invitation, the client looked at my boss expectantly.
"Did you set up the wall connection?" Smirking in reply, the other man snapped his fingers, making the entire back wall light up into a screen, showing exactly what was on the laptop at the time. Smirking back, Rhodes let his finger press the "enter" key, and the video conference commenced.
The window showed nothing but static and only white noise echoed through the room at first, but it eventually cleared up to show the man in debt. He was tanned-skinned, brown-haired, and middle-aged, wearing a cheap-looking suit and sitting in a leather armchair. The wall behind him was made of dull concrete, and it didn't look like wherever he was living was very glamorous, but Wilshire still leaned back in the chair as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Rhodes narrowed his eyes.
"Come to your senses, old friend?" he said slowly and rather cautiously. The man on the screen put on an all-too-familiar smile and leaned back further in his seat.
"Why yes, but in a slightly different sense than you may think. It's amazing how doctored videos can come out to look so real these days, hmm?" The smile became even bigger as Rhodes sneered in annoyance.
"Oh yeah?" he countered. "Keep telling yourself that. You'll need that false sense of security when we send you that video of your youngest son's mangled body being dumped in the middle of the Pacific."
My eyes widened. Would he really do that?
"Have you seen the news, John?" answered Wilshire, face suddenly turning serious. "You won't be able to get past the border into the U.S. Believe me, the media can't get enough of this story. It's only a matter of time before the catch you."
Surprisingly, the client actually smirked when he heard this. Chuckling, he sat up and folded his hands on the table.
"I'm hurt, Guy. I really am. You underestimate me and yet you overestimate the power of the legal system. I'll tell you a fact, Guy: there is such thing as getting away with murder. All it takes is time, patience, strict attention to detail, and money. Either you fork over the cash, or I'll-"
"You'll what? Kill him? You don't have the nerve, old buddy. All you know how to do is make empty threats and play around with Sony Vegas. How do I even know that's Noah?"
"Oh, don't worry," Rhodes said. "With the right amount in your bank account, you can have access to anything from government to medical records. For his sake, you'd better believe that's Noah."
"The cops will-"
"The only thing a cop can do is direct you to the nearest Krispy Kreme Donuts!" the patron spat, slamming his fist down on the table.
"And know this," piped up DeMiller, who'd been silent all this time, "we have the brainpower to think up some very...creative things to do with your boy." Wilshire let that smile cross his face again.
"You've got to be kidding me. This is all one big, fat bluff, at least when it comes to taking his life. I know you, John. You were always a spineless coward, unwilling to actually make the big decisions-"
"You think so!? Come back the day after tomorrow and I will show you how much of a coward I am! Same time!" With that, he slammed the computer screen shut.
A few seconds of heavy breathing later, Rhodes faced me, and I straitened.
"Agent Umbriel," he addressed me through gritted teeth, "I will not be requiring your services for the next couple of days. Dismissed."
I left work with a stoic look on my face and a sickly feeling in my stomach that not even one hundred pills could soothe. I could just imagine what was in store for Noah. My mind plagued me with visions of torture and blood and pain, and my own words repeated themselves in my head countless times.
"As little pain as possible..."
There was a side of me that wanted to help him. I knew it existed. I didn't know why it did, but it existed, and it was driving me to actually consider risking my life to save him. I couldn't interfere too much this time, but pain was coming...
...and there was only one thing I could do.
I've reached the 10,000 word mark! Hooray! Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. It's starting to get jucier, huh? Reviews and favorites are appreciated, and many thanks to cubbiecat for being a loyal reviewer! Cheers!