For Carl, Josiah, and Snel.
You guys are amazing, and I think it's safe to say you've changed my life in some way, however small. This is for you.
Thank you so, so very much.
Golf | by Breanne Nedra | May 10th, 2014
Ted Starling never thought he'd be locked in his own prison cell.
Now he could say he had been and it was no fun. Nothing to do except listen to your own thoughts, and after a while, even those got kind of stale. At least the cleaners had managed to get Ned's lipstick message off the wall – being forced to stare at that would have just been the icing on the cake.
He heard footsteps on the concrete stairway leading to the underground prison block, and looked up as Amy Cahill slipped into view outside the wall of bars. For a moment their eyes locked. Neither of them knew what to say. The President was behind his own lock and The Racketeer was running free as if he hadn't committed a single crime. It was looking dismally like Ned had won.
Noiselessly, Amy pulled a chair closer to the cell and sat down. Ted went back to staring at the floor. The dyad sat in silence for a moment before Amy said, "I'm sorry, Ted."
The President shrugged. "It's not your fault."
"I know," admitted the Interpol agent, "I just feel bad. I wish there was something I could do."
Ted sighed quietly. "Honestly, I'm kinda thinking about giving up. Ned has proven to be, in a word, unbeatable. And I've proven to be a failure. This whole thing was my fault from the start. I don't see how I missed it."
"It's not your fault, Ted. Don't beat yourself up over this."
"It is my fault, Amy," he insisted. "Ned told me everything. He became The Racketeer because he felt abandoned after I went into politics. Which makes me directly responsible for every crime The Racketeer has ever committed – and ever will." He dropped his eyes to the floor once again. "You were right all along, and I was too blind to see it. I guess those surgeries didn't work, after all."
"Ted," Amy replied softly, "I told you, he chose his own path. Someone once gave me a nice bit of wisdom: 'Situations don't invent emotions, they uncover them.' That means a person doesn't act a certain way in a certain situation because the situation itself made them feel that way – that emotion was already there, buried deep inside them; the situation simply exposed it."
He thought for a moment, staring into space. "That makes sense, although I fail to see how it applies to Ned. He wasn't always that way."
"Do you remember what you told me while we were planning the reunion?" Amy asked. "You said that Ned had mentioned something about being second best his whole life."
"Yes, I remember." Realization dawned. "You're saying that he's always been bitter about me and my accomplishments, but when I left him for politics, it was the last straw."
Amy nodded. "Exactly. You switching majors merely exposed Ned's jealousy; it didn't create it. To blame you for this would be like blaming Grace for the Vespers – she didn't start the Vesper organization, she just started the Clue hunt, which caused them to come out of hiding."
"I still feel bad, though," Ted admitted. "Maybe if I hadn't dredged up those emotions..." He let the sentence hang between them.
Amy whispered, "Feelings buried alive never die."
He licked his lips. It was a gloomy thought, but he knew she was right. If those emotions weren't unearthed this way, something else would have brought them up. There was no avoiding it. So maybe it was best to deal with it while he had the chance.
Amy must have come to the conclusion that Ted didn't have an answer ready, because she began again, "In spite of all I've said, I can't believe Ned would do such bad things. It just doesn't seem like him. Not that I knew him well, but... he never seemed evil. Maybe he was a bit of a jerk, but not villainous. It makes you wonder what was going through his mind when he formed The Racketeer."
"Probably alcohol," Ted muttered. "It was probably before he got over his addiction."
"He was an alcoholic?"
"For a short period of time while we were in college, yes. He was a minor hanging out with other minors, only they were underage drinkers and party-goers and my brother wasn't. They sucked him into their world. He would never admit it, but he's pretty easy to manipulate when it comes to ethics. The alcoholism is part of the reason why I went into politics instead of becoming a scientist like I always dreamed."
"Isn't that a twist of fate," Amy said, unable to stop a small smile from forming on her face. "Ned got mad at you for leaving him and yet he's the reason you left."
"I love my brother," Ted replied firmly. "I just don't love the demon inside him."
"The world needs more people like you, Ted." Amy's green-eyed gaze locked with Ted's blue one. "A good head on their shoulders, kindness overflowing, wisdom to share, and the strength to do what that wisdom says needs to be done." She gave a tentative smile. "Even when it hurts."
Ted smiled back, almost bashful at her praise. "Take away Katherine's serum and I'm no one special. I just learned the right lessons and made sure to remember them."
She gave a small laugh. "And as humble as a servant."
He waved his hand, laughing and looking away. "Stop it before you make me blush." He looked back at her. "Let's change the subject to something more productive. Like what ideas we have to stop this unexpected plot twist of Ned attempting to steal my job."
Amy shook her head sadly. "We've got nothing. Ian left, saying he needed some time alone to think and that he'd be back soon. Dan and Hamilton came up with a bunch of joke ideas and had a fun time laughing about them, but we obviously can't use any of them. And honestly, my brain feels like mush. I couldn't have a good idea if someone gave me one as a present. If you want my opinion, I think we're all a little too strung-out to be doing this right now."
Ted bowed his head, looking shameful. "I'm so sorry. I feel terrible for all I've put you guys through. If I had known this would happen, I would have just resigned and left it at that." He glanced up at her. "That said, if you want to back out, I give you permission. I won't hold it against you."
"No way," Amy said firmly. "If we didn't answer your call expecting to feel like this before the ordeal was over, that's our problem, not yours. We'll see it through. We're in it together." She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but smile back.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
"Oh, thanks indeed!" said a new voice. "Now the games can continue! You really had me worried that all the fun would end before the scores were tallied. And that's not very fair, is it?"
Ted and Amy both shot to their feet. The President went closer to the bars and Amy looked back at the stairway.
Ned leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, smiling like he'd just heard a joke, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pressed trousers. "Hi."
"What are you doing here?" Ted's mouth was dry.
"Well, I thought it funny," Ned began, "that I had given International Police Force agent Amy H. Cahill a direct Presidential order to not talk to the prisoner, and yet I heard her voice down here as I walked by. Strange, I think to myself, so I walk down here and – what do you know – here's Amy H. Cahill, talking to the prisoner and violating a direct order from a superior!" He put on a surprised expression, which quickly morphed into one of mock questioning as he jabbed a finger in Amy's direction and asked his brother: "Is this how they acted when you were in charge? No wonder you've had such a hard time keeping up with me!"
Ted felt rage boiling his blood. "Can it, Ned."
Ned chuckled immaturely like a nine-year-old school bully. "You said 'can it.'"
"Is this all some kind of game to you?" Ted demanded.
"Oh, sure, I love games. Especially the ones I can win, like chess."
"I bet you really like chess when you're playing with human pawns, right?" Amy glared daggers at the second-youngest triplet.
"Is there any other way to play?" Ned asked in fake interest, walking closer to the duo. "And the last time I took a pawn, I must've gotten a two-for-one deal, because darling Reagan never came back. Busy crying over her sister's body, is she?"
Amy teared up. "Shut up!"
"Make me, doll," Ned taunted.
The agent reared back to charge him, but Ted shot his hand out through the bars and snatched her arm before she got the chance. "He's baiting you," he warned, sending a glance at Ned. "All he wants is a reason to put you in here, too."
"I don't care!" Amy snapped, a stray tear on her cheek. "Madison is fighting for her life right now because of him and he's treating it like a joke!"
"He probably sees it like a joke. Everything is a joke to him. He's been that way since we were kids."
"Yup," Ned agreed with a nod. "And all my punchlines have something to do with someone else's pain."
"Ain't that the truth," Ted muttered.
Angered, Amy wrenched her arm out of the President's grip, wiping away tears.
"Aw, I'm sorry, Amy," Ned murmured soothingly. "I didn't mean to make you cry. Would you like me to-"
"Get out? Yes, I would!"
"I was going to say 'reunite you'..." he said slowly.
"How are you managing to live with yourself, knowing what you've become, Ned?" Ted asked. "Because twenty years ago you would have been disgusted with the kind of person you are now."
"Isn't it funny the way things change?" Ned replied, humor in his words.
"Well, I'm not finding it very funny, but I assume our senses of humor aren't quite as similar as they used to be."
"I know! It's amazing we still look alike, huh?"
"You could say that..."
"You do realize you're not going to win, right, Ned?" Amy asked, rejoining the conversation. "We've managed to beat six other teams in the Clue hunt, reunite the Cahill branches, stop the entire Vesper organization, and keep J. Rutherford Pierce from administering the serum to Americans to turn them into his own private supersoldiers. Next to them, you're a cockroach!"
Surprisingly, Ned threw his head back and laughed. "And yet you've still not managed to beat me, am I right? Am I truly a cockroach?" He took a step closer, a smile on his face. "I'll give you that, you've beaten some nasty megalomaniacs in your days. But here's the thing about cockroaches: If you see one, you know there are probably fifty others climbing inside your walls." He reached out and drummed his fingers on Amy like a cockroach climbing up her arm. She shied away. "Obviously," he continued, leaning against the bars of the cell, "there's only one Racketeer. You just can't pawn my kind of awesomeness off on somebody else. But when you've got an ancient formula that enhances mental capability pounding through your heart, feeding your brain... there may as well be fifty of you. I'm sure you know all about that, Amy."
The agent froze. She whispered, shocked, "H-H-How do you know about that?"
Ned grinned. "The same way I know about your shoe size and the color of underwear you're wearing right now – resources."
"Do these resources happen to have the number of a respectable enough psychologist that you'll actually listen to him when he informs you that you're a nutcase?" Ted asked coldly.
"Whoa," Ned replied, putting his hands in a surrendering position, "let's not get crazy. They're only human."
"Which is more than I can say about you," Ted quipped, venom in his voice.
"Hey, now you're just being spiteful. What do you think Sinead would say if she heard you saying these kinds of things to me and actually meaning them?"
"I don't know, Ned. She seemed pretty upset when I told her that you're The Racketeer, so it's kind of hard to imagine what direction her thoughts take when she thinks of you right now. Maybe you should call her and ask her yourself," Ted nearly snapped. But as he uttered those words, an idea flew into his mind. The perfect way to beat Ned once and for all, to stop this whole charade – it could be ended in a matter of moments. A smile slowly spread across his features. He could still win this battle.
Ned had begun laughing, but it sounded a tad strained, like he was forcing himself to laugh when in reality he didn't feel like it at all. "Oh, I don't see the point in calling our poor sister all the way back he-"
"I do," Ted said, cutting his brother off mid-sentence.
Ned blinked. "Excuse me?"
The youngest triplet leveled his gaze with his brother's. "Call Sinead, Ned."
"And why exactly would I do that?"
"Because," Ted began, leaning closer to the bars, "the only reason you're sitting behind the Resolute Desk right now is because nobody on my staff can tell us apart. But there's one person on the planet who has never mixed us up: our sister. I say we end this charade before it gets any farther out of hand. If you can fool Sinead, you deserve to be President. And if you can't, well..." Ted smiled.
Ned was frowning, looking at his brother. There was no way out of this situation. If he decided to play unfairly and not call Sinead and leave Ted in the cell, Amy would almost surely make the call for them; and when Sinead showed up and realized Ted wasn't in his office, all would be lost. But if he said yes, he would be simply handing over everything he had worked so hard to attain. Would that be any better?
Finally, he opened his mouth and gave his answer. "You're on."
