Chapter Eight: Execution
Night came faster than DeFoe would have liked. As unbearable as it was to sit in a musty hotel room thinking of their impending doom, actually pursuing that doom was worse. Austin put on a heavy coat and stuffed rope, a knife and a gun in three of the many pockets. Even though DeFoe would just be killing time in a telephone booth, he armed himself a little more than usual. If Austin went down, there was nothing protecting DeFoe from the Professor.
They turned in their key at the front desk and exited the hotel; even if they succeeded in their mission, there is no way they would be sticking around Prague any longer than necessary. Keeping close to the side of the buildings, Austin and DeFoe crept towards the telephone booth. DeFoe glanced at the ground under the streetlight to make sure there wasn't blood from the blonde man.
Austin aimed a finger straight up at the streetlight and spoke Augerfrost. The light shattered and the phone booth was the only thing lit up on the block.
"You should probably get rid of the light inside the phone booth," Austin said. "So that you aren't a beacon to the Organization."
DeFoe nodded quickly. "I'll do that right now, shall I? Augerfrost." The light exploded and the phone booth seemed to disappear. Now the only light left was the LED street lamps surrounding the Organization.
Austin and DeFoe stared at the Organization for a few silent moments, Austin planning his entrance and escape, no doubt.
"Are you sure you can do this?" DeFoe asked quietly. "I mean, yes, you're skilled, but are you really better than all of the Organization combined?"
"I'm not going in to fight anyone," said Austin. "If I can stay out of the way, I think they'll ignore me as another suit." Austin looked at DeFoe. "No one would think you're just another suit, though, so it's good you're staying out here."
That's right. If DeFoe took the offensive, infiltrating the base with Austin, he would put both of them in jeopardy. Austin didn't need a team; he needed a failsafe. DeFoe was that failsafe and nothing else. It wasn't cowardice; it was strategy.
"I've got it, how I'm getting in," said Austin, rubbing his hands together against the cold. "I'll go around the back and down the heating shaft that leads to the Professor's office. No one will suspect me entering through there."
"That's because it's scalding hot through there. You'll get burnt."
Austin smiled, amused. "Are you worried about me?"
"Of course not. I'm worried about the mission, is all. If they get you, I'm certainly not going to pick up where you left off. And I think you've been around Dante too long. He's rubbing off on you."
Austin looked back at the Organization building. "I think the entire Foundation has. Anyway," he pushed up the sleeve of his coat and looked at the glowing hands of his watch. "I should be in and out in an hour, by 0200 hours. If I'm not out by then, call Guggenheim. Are you okay?"
"What?"
"You're shaking."
DeFoe looked at his hands. Indeed he was. He crossed his arms in order to control them. His back started to hurt.
"Help."
The word returned, echoing through the air. DeFoe looked around, but the word hadn't come from any particular direction.
"What's wrong? You don't look well."
"I'm fine," said DeFoe in a forced-steady voice, his spine burning. "I do have two questions, however, and I would appreciate if you would answer them plainly and without judgment."
"Okay."
"First, did you hear that?"
"I hear a lot of things," Austin replied. "We're in a city. You'll have to be more specific."
"You would have known what I was talking about," said DeFoe, rubbing his back in an attempt to reduce the burning. "Secondly—and I want you to be completely serious with me—am I…shifting?"
"Shifting?"
"Merging with, um, titans. Because it…it feels like... I just want to make sure, physically, that I'm not."
Austin tilted his head in what DeFoe thought was bewilderment at his question. Austin grabbed DeFoe's hand and studied it. He then faced DeFoe, bringing his face much too close. Austin squinted to see DeFoe's features in the dark. Then he pulled back.
"No."
"Huh?"
"No, you're not shifting."
DeFoe hesitated and then sighed in relief. He hadn't actually thought he was shifting—the pain he was feeling now was nothing compared to the pain of actually merging—but he needed to hear someone say it, to assure him that he wasn't slipping away.
"Anything else?" asked Austin.
"No, no that's fine," said DeFoe, glad that Austin couldn't see him blushing in the darkness.
Austin sized up the building one more time and then disappeared around the block, meaning to go the long way around and sneak in the back. DeFoe moved between the phone booth and the building and crouched, making himself as small as possible. He hoped this whole thing wasn't just a fool's errand. There would be bad consequences if it were.
XXXXX
Waiting was long and quiet. So far, there didn't seem to be any disturbance; Austin was succeeding. DeFoe refused to shift from his position, in case he might draw attention to himself. If only Kreutalk was protecting him instead of hiding in his amulet.
Something strong grabbed DeFoe from behind.
DeFoe yanked his neck around to see a large, glowing squid. What on earth?!
Its tentacles spiraled around his arms and chest. DeFoe couldn't move.
Rassimov.
The Professor's right-hand man stepped into view, holding a glowing red amulet lazily, as if the titan obeyed him without effort. But DeFoe didn't have time to be jealous.
He fought; even though he couldn't move, he fought. He moved enough, at least, that Rassimov hesitated to touch him.
"I won't say the Professor will be glad to see you," said Rassimov, "but he will at least be glad to have you back."
"Rassimov, please," DeFoe said, his jaw trembling. "Please let me go. Don't take me back. I'm sorry. I won't ever go against the Organization again. Just pretend you didn't see me and you'll never see me again."
"I can't do that," said Rassimov. "First of all, the Professor is the one who sent me out to neutralize this threat, as petty as it was. And second, I want to bring you in."
"Where's your humanity, Rassimov?" DeFoe yelled. "Huh? Do you enjoy destroying people? You don't owe anything to that man. Just let me go. Please! Please, Rassimov…"
"Are you going to behave, or am I going to have to silence you?" asked Rassimov.
"Please, Rassimov, please just let me go, please…" It was getting hard to see Rassimov through the tears.
Rassimov sighed and pulled a rag out of his pocket. His titan lifted a gagged DeFoe and carried him towards the Organization. Rassimov walked directly behind so he could watch DeFoe. "I'm not worried about you getting loose, just about you waking up the neighborhood. You understand."
DeFoe did understand; abduction was a familiar situation for him. Only, he was usually the abductor, not the victim. Because he had been the abductor, he knew it was impossible for the victim to escape from an Organization abduction. He struggled, anyway, all the way to the building, down the stairs, and into the Professor's chambers.
A/N: Things aren't going well for DeFoe. At least things are going well for the story. :3 On time. Yuss.
