Okay, Okay. HUUUUUGE apology in order!
I'm sorry I waited so long to update!
I've been very busy studying for, and taking certain uncool examinations :(
Anywhoo, finally an end to your cliffhanging agony... Say you'll forgive me and review?
(Don't own, unforch.)
Click, Click. The stunned soldiers had finally gotten their acts together. A ring of about twelve men and women stood around Helen and the team, all pointing their guns with wide eyes.
Helen pouted flirtatiously and looked towards Nick with a smile that burnt him to his very soul.
"Look at this, Nick. I'm famous! All this attention for little old me..."
Nick said nothing. He had a lot he wanted to say, but he was incapable. His thoughts were like white noise.
Helen stepped closer to him, winding her scarred, thickly muscled arms around his neck. The tendons of which stood out with tension.
Stunned by this, the soldiers awkwardly cocked their guns – it was hard to look threatening when Helen had him in a tight hold, which rendered them useless – they could not fire without the risk of hitting him. Despite this knowledge, Cutter almost wished they would fire.
In a jerky movement he pulled out of his estranged wife's bizarre embrace.
Her smile dropped just a touch, but was quickly replaced with another, wider smirk.
"What, haven't you missed me... Hubby?"
Cutter found his voice.
"I am not your husband." It came out husky and quieter than he had intended.
"What, Nick?"
"I am not your husband!" Cutter yelled the words as months of rage and frustration poured out and gave him a voice at last.
Helen remained infuriatingly calm, as she always did when faced with conflict.
"Oh, but I am Nick. Remember? We married in a little white church, just down the road from your precious university. I wore white, you wore a suit. We went to Skye for our honeymoon and you swore you'd love me for the rest of our lives."
"Yes. I married a woman named Helen. She even looked a bit like you." Cutter walked up to Helen, till his face was pushed into hers, his blue eyes dangerous.
"But my wife died. Nine years ago. She disappeared, somewhere in the Forest of Dean. Sure, it hurt like hell, but I dealt with it. And then you came. From a different world, and you stole everything! My life, my best friend – you even stole my memories!
"You have poisoned me inside, Helen. With your cheating and lying and double dealing. You're just sick. Why do you always come back?"
"Because I miss you, Nick. I miss my husband."
"Look, woman. I am going to say this one more time, and I really hope you listen. My. Wife. Died. All you are is a ghost of her, a sick, perverted shade. And you have become many things, Helen, but this I say in complete certainty – YOU ARE NOT MY WIFE!"
Cutter stumbled to the floor, trembling. Jenny moved from her frozen position beside the workbench and rushed to him, sliding her arms around him and helping him to his feet.
Nick looked up to see the suave form of Lester walking down the long ramp towards the scene.
Lester gave Cutter's wife a tense – yet bizarrely charming – smile. Once again, it was easy to draw parallels with a dinner party scene.
"Ahh, Mrs Cutter. I see we are to have the pleasure of your company tonight."
"I didn't know you cared, James," Helen replied smoothly.
"Frankly I don't. At all. Merely being polite. Though considering the fact that you are a murderer and conspiracist against the state, there's not a call for it, is there? Also, nobody gave you permission to call me James."
"This is irrelevant, James. Aren't you going to ask how I got in here? The security in this place is a joke."
"Very well, Helen. Enlighten us. How did you get in?" Lester spoke with the indulgent tones of a Primary teacher scolding a wayward five-year old. Cutter had to admire the man's courage.
"Well, it was simple enough. Open an anomaly and step through-" Helen paused as what she had said sunk in.
Opened an anomaly? But how? What technology does she have? Cutter wondered, before it occurred to him that she could be lying. It was her style to lie about such things, playing the team off against each other for technology which didn't exist.
Yes, he thought, Exactly her style.
"- However, I had thought you would at least be forewarned by your detector. Apparently not. Enjoy your skating, Connor?"
"Connor!" Cutter growled under his breath, for the second time this long night. Connor flushed, but held Helen's gaze, his face thunderous. Abby's and Jenny's both mirrored his expression of revulsion.
"Yes, very well," Lester sighed impatiently, "But your company is not something I crave right now, I'm already in a bad mood. Shoot her."
This last was addressed to the soldiers, but as they cocked their weapons, Helen sprang at Abby, taking her in a tight chokehold and holding her like a shield in front of her body. Abby struggled, trying to hit out, feet and fists flailing, but Helen held her fast.
"Don't do it, soldier boys," Helen chuckled, "If you stand any chance of killing me that way, it'll only be because your bullets have gone straight through Abby and out the other side. So I'd advise you to think very carefully before you pull the trigger."
"Yes, that's all very clever of you, Helen", Cutter said angrily, "But since you now have a hostage situation of sorts, how about telling us what you actually want. Why are you here tonight?"
Connor slowly edged nearer to where Helen held Abby. One hand was in his pocket. He made brief-eye contact with Cutter.
Surely...? Yes. Cutter nodded almost imperceptibly as Helen replied.
"To speak to you Nick. To offer you another chance to join me. I know you must be hurting, and whatever else I am, I'm still human-"
"Arguable!" Abby spat, in her arms.
"Hush now", Helen said spitefully, placing a hand firmly over Abby's mouth. "I'm hurting too, Nick. I want to join you in your grief, and be with you again. I think it's what Stephen would have wanted."
Keep talking, keep talking...
"Forgive me if I say you're talking crap, Helen. You have no right to say what Stephen would have wanted, and after everything that's happened you really think we could ever be together? After all this madness, is there any way for us to be together? No. And you know that. I think there's some other reason for you being here. And I just have to figure out what it is."
"Think what you like Nick", Helen spat, "I can't say I'm inclined to stick around to be treated like this."
Almost there, now. So close.
"Nah! Stay! We can catch up. Let me tell you, since the last time we met, I've altered a lot of my ideas about the world. You're not the only one who's changed Helen. Working here has caused me to see things I never dreamed of, be open to ideas, emotions everything. It's fantastic!"
Just a little more...
" There was this one thing I always thought was set in stone. One rule I kept to. But I've evolved. Helen, just like you. I changed my mind."
Helen's eyes widened in shock, as cold metal slammed against her temple.
"I let Connor have a gun."
"Put Abby down. Now," Connor said.
Cutter could see Connor trembling with rage, as his finger itched on the trigger. Helen dropped Abby and she scrambled away. The rest of the field team stepped away from where Connor held the woman.
Swiftly, Helen turned, so the gun pressed right between her eyes.
"Would you Connor? Could you kill me right here, as I looked you in the eye? Do you think that's why Nick gave you the gun? No. It was to save lives, wasn't it? And you so want to make Nick happy. Like he's the Daddy you never had. Sweet."
Connor's whole body trembled, and the muscles in his jaw popped as he fought with himself.
"You killed Stephen." He said, voice cracking.
"Did I? Really? It was the creatures, Connor, not me. I wanted to save him as much as anyone."
"But you didn't save him! You let him go into that room to die. And you would've killed him if he'd stood in your way. But I'm not like you. Give me the cuffs."
A soldier stepped forward and cuffed Helen's wrists behind her back. Connor dropped the gun. Abby ran to him, throwing her arms around her best friend's neck in gratitude.
The soldiers led Helen away. She stared coldly at them all and said not a word.
Cutter had to ask the question: "What will you do with her?"
"Oh the usual", Sir James replied. "Search, imprison, question. One way or another I'm sure we can get something useful out of her."
"If she talks. But if I know Helen, she's said all you're gonna hear from her tonight."
"Do you know how to kill a cat, Cutter?"
"Come again?"
"In a brief spat, with an annoying neighbour who's pet moggy continually - " Lester paused, distastefully "- Mates on my property in a loud, caterwauling fashion, I decided to turn to the internet for advice. It transpires there are many ways, both humane, and inhumane to kill a cat."
"I don't see how this is relevant."
"Well you know how I like a challenge, Cutter. Consider Helen the cat. One way or another I will find a method of getting rid of her. Or at least having her sufficiently neutered that she is no longer a problem."
I always forget how ruthless a man James Lester is.
"I hope you don't mean having her tortured?"
"Alas, no. Official state permission for such things is a lengthy, difficult process which would take quite literally months. Oh, for a simpler time, eh?"
Cutter just stared.
"Joke. Rest assured Cutter, your wife will be well treated. Though not so well treated, perhaps as she could be. Don't want to set a precedent."
Cutter nodded once, then said "She's not my wife."
With that he turned on his heel, and went to comfort his exhausted team.
Thanks for reading...
What Does Helen Really Want?
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