"'re you ready?" Walter asks. It's the same thing he asked in the cab, precisely a week ago. It seems like a lifetime. Austin tries to detect anything in his voice that can give away his attitude towards what Austin's about to undergo, but there's nothing. No worry, no indifference. It's like he does his best to remain objective, to keep his distance. He's not sure what to think of it.
"Sure." They're sitting in the company's van. He had just been wired, invisible to the naked eye, so their conversation could be followed from a distance. They'd also hacked the café's security cameras to keep an eye in sight. This was not only beneficial in that way, it also meant that Phil couldn't do the same. It was one thing they had that Phil didn't, but it meant everything.
Walter stares at his hands. "If I knew you'd be pulled into this so easily, that this would happen, I never would've agreed to your father's plan," he admits. "I should've known you weren't ready."
In the past, this might've angered Austin. It wasn't the first time that Walter had questioned his capabilities, but it didn't quite come across the same as other occasions. He seems regretful. They had grown this week, both of them. Austin can't find himself to get mad at the comment. He nods.
"I'm sorry for making such a mess," he mutters, collecting enough courage to look him in the eye. "And thanks for sticking with me through it all, for staying the reasonable one, I guess."
"You're the only one who can do this, you know," Walter voices, "I mean, not to scare you, but..."
"I know," he replies, nodding with a brave smile. The pressure was building and the weight on his shoulders seemed to be growing with the second.
"No, I mean," he quickly continues, "you can do this. I know you can." Austin doesn't bother hiding the surprised expression on his face. "She's not a lost cause, I'm sure of it. I don't know what you did this week, but it made her question her devotion to her brother. That can't just disappear. There's still a chance, there's a way. And you're it."
"I'll do my best." Austin never thought he'd hear this from his colleague. He smiles unknowingly. He knows Walter wouldn't just say this. If he could see it, it might not be just his imagination. Maybe it's true, maybe he could save her after all. Maybe he could do this.
"You'd better," the man says, the hint of a smirk on his lips.
"I'd better go," Austin concludes. It's two forty-five. Walter nods and Austin exits the car. There, he finds his father.
"Austin," he formally greets him and Austin nods in response. "You know the plan."
"Stall time and keep your focus on the girl. Keep the locket in your possession at all time. Lead the conversation to a deal that is beneficial to us," Austin repeats his father's words flatly. His father says nothing in response. Instead, he stares at the café Austin's about to enter.
"Be careful in there, alright?" He says, fiddling with the cuff on his sleeve. His usually reserved posture was nowhere to be found.
"Yes, sir." Austin decides not to adapt and sticks to his normal corporate behaviour around his dad. In response, the man sighs.
"Austin," he starts, "just... I'm sorry that you're in this position."
"It's not your fault," Austin assures him, but his father shakes his head.
"I talked to your mother." Austin freezes. He hadn't even thought of her. Here he was, in a life-threatening situation, and he hadn't even bothered to fill her in. He feels awful. This whole assignment had pulled him into a world that seemed so far from reality that he'd completely lost touch with everything and everyone off the ship. He feels himself getting dizzy. "She wanted me to tell you that she loves you."
"How much did you tell her?" He coughs to get rid of the lump in his throat. It's the first time in months he's thought of her and he realizes he craves her touch more than anything. He'd always been closer to her than to his father, ironically.
"Not much. It's all classified. I just thought she deserved to know about your situation," his dad shrugs and Austin forces a smile. "I figured you'd want her to know, too."
"Thank you," Austin says and hesitates, considering what title is appropriate for the conversation, "dad."
He nods, looking down for a second before speaking, "And, I know you'd rather have your mother tell you this, but you should know I'm proud of you, Austin." He can tell his father struggles with this as he avoids his gaze. It's easy to imagine why, he can't remember the last time they had an honest, emotional conversation like this one. His father shuffles his feet awkwardly before adding, "And I love you."
Austin takes a deep breath. After looking at each other for a few seconds, they step forward simultaneously and embrace tightly. Austin blinks a few times to get rid of upwelling tears. At the moment, he feels young and vulnerable.
"I'm scared, dad," he admits, whispering in a flash of insecurity. His father pulls him closer.
"It's alright, son," he says, "I believe in you."
Only a few minutes later, Austin has regained his cool and walks into the café. Shaking off his nerves, he wipes the past few minutes from his mind. He must focus. The atmosphere makes him think of Starbucks, though the interior is warmer and cosier. The smell of coffee is present, but not overwhelming.
It's busy, but not busier than he'd expected a café to be on a Thursday afternoon. Students had hoarded one-person booths nearby plugs and were sipping cheap coffee while rapidly typing away on their laptops. Groups of friends had planted their handbags next to coffee tables and were stranded on the sofas surrounding them, taking aesthetic photos of their orders. The counters display a range of cakes and pastries.
He stands still for a few seconds at the entrance. He's not even sure what to look for, who to look for. Secretly, he's hoping to spot waves of chestnut and, after a few seconds, he does. He tries to control his breathing, though he feels exhilaration flowing through his blood at the sight. Just from the back of her head, he can't make up how she is physically. She's semi-slouched in her seat, picking at her nails as she looks out the window. She's wearing the same clothes as the night he last saw her. He wonders if she changed at all. Slowly, he makes his way over to her.
With every step, his heart seems to pound farther out of his chest. His feet feel like lead and he can't estimate whether his footsteps announce his arrival. If they do, she doesn't bother looking up, not even when he appears at her table. He awkwardly stays put, unsure whether he's allowed to sit down. He wonders whether she even notices he's there and is about to say her name when his father impatiently tells him to sit through the microphone in his ear. He complies.
"Allison," he says after she still refuses to look at him. For a minute, he feels like all his attempts will remain futile, but, then, she moves. Ever so slowly, she moves her head until she is looking him straight in the eye. Her gaze is challenging, knowing, amused. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and sits back. Her posture reminds him of the day they met, when they spoke on the top deck. Her attitude is complete, spotless, except for one thing. The side of her face that was turned away from him at first shows colours of bruises. Blue, green, purple, red, it's like a palette has spilled on her skin.
"Did Phil do that?" He asks, leaning forward. The area around her left eye looks like a shadow is cast over it. Blue and green shades fight for the upper hand and her lid is slightly swollen. Her cheekbone is painted with a dark red and marks on her jaw match the overall colour palette. Ignoring her sudden cautious look, he brings his hand close to her face, inspecting her skin. Swiftly, she turns her head, making him retreat.
"Missed touching me that badly, huh?" She scoffs, returning to her original arrogance. "Glad to see I've made an impression on you. Though, God knows that wasn't a challenge to begin with." She rolls her eyes. It was easy to say this was how she behaved on the ship and he almost just goes with it. But, it's not quite. It's more. The role she played, the character she envisioned, the words she spoke, the look she shot him. It was everything he knew and more. It's like she had nothing to lose, nothing to hide. Nothing to pretend.
"What the hell has that asshole done to you?" He balls his fist on the table. Her behaviour shows there's something terribly wrong and he's absolutely sure he's the only one who can tell. To Walter, to his father, she acts the same as before. He sees his odds declining rapidly and runs a hand through his hair.
"That's my brother you're talking about and there's no 'he'," she hisses, looking genuinely defensive, "we're a team.
"You can't convince me that was consensual," Austin argues, nodding at her face. He waits, curious to see how she'll dig herself out of this one. She doesn't grant him the pleasure as she changes the subject.
"Less talk about me," she smirks, "more talk about the locket." Her sentences seem to contain short pauses every now and then.
"No," he barks and she leans backwards in surprise, "Phil and I had a deal," he hisses, "You and the locket would remain undamaged."
"There was no deal." She narrows her eyes and smiles knowingly. "There were orders. Which you followed very willingly up until now." She waits for a second before continuing and then Austin understands. Her lines are being fed to her. Phil was controlling her once more. She plays with a curl while looking at him from under her eyelashes. "Things can still go wrong, Austin."
"I want to talk to Allison," he demands and Allison laughs in mockery.
"Are you blind?" She narrows her eyes in distrust. "You are talking to me."
"No, I'm talking to Phil," Austin persists, following her facial movements, "I'm hearing his words, his voice." Allison's hand moves to her ear unconsciously, proving his suspicion of wearing an earpiece, like the one he was using. "I want to hear yours."
Allison purses her lips. He wonders if Phil told her she should stay silent or whether he's not saying anything himself. Either way, the girl doesn't seem to be planning on speaking on own initiative. Austin waits patiently, though his father is not as tolerant. He urgently pushes him to keep the conversation going. Then, like it's a sign, certain pieces of information fit together and a plan rises from the fog in his head.
"You know what?" Allison's eyes wide shortly, surprised by his change in voice. "Fine. I'll give you the locket." Her jaw drops but quickly picks up her act again. She's about to speak, probably mocking his sudden, spineless surrender when Austin cuts her off. "But first we talk some more. Seems like a fair deal, doesn't it?"
Allison picks up on the ambiguous comment and raises an eyebrow, a gesture just for him to see. This only fuels his confidence. Thing is, the signs Allison had been sending made him presume that Phil could only hear them. It was true that his father's team had made it impossible for Phil to use the café's cameras and, if he could see them at all, he was watching them from a distance. Once he noticed the menu blocking a part of the table, he knew he had to take his chance.
Grabbing one of the menus, he opens it, hereby shielding his half of the table. Allison's eyes follow his movements and she sends a look of confusion while still keeping her overall body language cold and distant. Thinking back to how Allison told him the story of her best friend, he remembers how she'd taught her sign language and prays it hadn't been a lie. Figuring how untrue she'd been to him, it's a gamble, but it's one he must play. Moving his hands, he draws her attention to them.
Talk to me, he signs. Allison draws a breath and covers it up with a cough. She's hesitant, he can tell. If she'd respond, she'd be taking a risk going against Phil's orders. But that's exactly what Austin wants. It would assure him that, even after all that happened, there was still a hint of the old Allison left. And that was all he needed to know.
"What do you want to discuss?" Allison responds to the vocal question Austin raised before and he's about to accept his failed attempt when Allison leans forward. Her arms lean on the edge of the table in an intimidating manner, but he soon notices her real motive for the motion. Her hands are hidden behind the menu rack on their table. She signs back, stop it, please.
Austin struggles not to let a victorious smile slip through and ignores his father's question on what the hell he's doing. "So, this was all an act?" He asks, while signing, we can help you leave safely, "All of it?"
"All of it," she confirms. She's now completely abandoned any caution about her facial expressions and Austin knows for sure Phil is watching them from a far enough distance to not notice. I can't, she signs. Her breathing had sped up slightly, though he presumes Phil doesn't notice. It's logical; it's the first time she's gone behind Phil's back since their time on the ship. "I'm surprised it took you this long to draw that conclusion." Her voice is still in character and Austin releases a breath. She was still holding up, though he wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up the act.
"Where did you learn to act like that?" He refuses to give up, no matter how hopeless their signed conversation is looking. He must convince her to cooperate. If he'd fail to keep his promise, to save her from her toxic environment, he couldn't forgive himself. You deserve so much more than this life, he tries but knows how futile it is. His brain goes haywire, he can't decide what to say to convince her. All the hope he had earlier had abandoned him. Phil might actually win the war.
"It comes with the job, Austin." Allison sounds tired. He's not sure what Phil is telling her, but there's a fair chance that he's running out of patience and that he's telling Allison just that. It's no surprise, their actual conversation lacks a purpose, something Phil must've noticed by now. Her hands portray her lack of confidence. Just let it go. Stop wasting your energy. "Where is this going?" She asks and Austin can almost hear Phil's voice sounding through hers. The conversation is coming to an end and he's running out of time. He must think fast.
"I have one more question," Austin objects, though he doesn't, not yet. His mind is racing.
"Make it a good one," Allison responds, her eyes full of warning like she fears what is going to happen after. And then it hits him. She does fear what is going to happen. She ignored Phil's orders to sneak around and talk to him in private. She might care about him, even after everything he did to her yesterday that caused her face to be wounded. He must use that to his advantage.
He takes a deep breath before signing, I'm sorry. "What's going to happen to me after this?"
Allison's face freezes. She listens but doesn't repeat Phil's words. Five seconds pass. Seven seconds. Ten seconds. Then, she cowers and whispers, "No." She cowers once more, a voice yelling in her ear, so loud Austin can pick up waves of sound. Squeezing her eyes shut, she takes her pulse in her hand. With trembling fingers, she presses her nails into her skin. It's the unconscious act she performed sometimes and now he knows what causes it. Phil's control hanging over her like a raincloud, reminding her of his power with each regulating drop.
Moving slowly, not making a sound, he moves forward in order not to seem suspicious. Somehow, he succeeds in making his hands hover hers, still shielded from sight. As he keeps his eyes on her face, still covered in pain, he takes her hands, guiding them away from each other and preventing her from implicating any more hurt on herself. Her eyes snap open, view their hands and draws a shaky breath. She waits, but no comment on it comes from Phil. He still can't see and fails to suspect. Austin's dad, in turn, had noticed but decided to keep his comment to himself. She pulls back.
"Well," she finally repeats Phil's words, her voice fragile with inevitable obligation, "you'll just have to find out for yourself." Allison gulps and Austin's shoulders fall. He was not going to walk out of this café in one piece and Phil had just told Allison in much detail. A tear escapes from her left eye, running over her coloured cheekbone to her jaw.
His posture grows weak. He looks around. The rest of the café looked calm, orderly like a man didn't just found out he had minutes left to live. The fake sunflower was standing ignorantly on their table. His father was speaking to him, but it didn't quite get through. Allison was still eying him up, Phil quietly observing from afar. Austin's next moves would be crucial to what would happen next. Not quite comprehending, he feels himself raising his hand.
"What are you doing?" Allison hisses. He can't hear whether these were her words or Phil's, but it didn't matter. He had an idea. No, he had a final shot.
"Just ordering something to drink," he casually answers while signing, I'm not giving up this easily. He had noticed something when looking around hazily. No other booth had the plant they had, which meant that Allison brought it. It might be a bomb, he can't deny it crossed his mind, but it could very well be something else. If he was right, it could mean there was still a chance for him.
"I don't know what you have planned, but you will give me the locket," Allison threatens, her voice still as believable as her eyes weary. "You might not have noticed, but you're surrounded by a lot of human lives that can be ended very quickly." Allison falls silent like she has trouble repeating the following sentence. Then, she continues very slowly. "Starting with the one sitting in front of you."
A waitress delivers Austin's ice water and he understands he must make a decision now. Allison looks like she's on the verge of breaking down, which would not only jeopardize Austin's life but her own, too. Taking a final look at the sunflower, he decides to take action. Bomb? He signs and Allison forgets her misery for a second, looking at him in confusion. That's all the confirmation he needs. With a movement of the hand, he knocks over his glass. The water spills over the table, but, most importantly, the flower. A loud beep sounds and Allison removes the earpiece in a hasty manner and throws it on the table, surprised by the beep that pierced through her ear.
Austin was right. The flower contained a microphone Phil placed in order to hear not only Allison but also Austin's words loud and clear. And now, that machine was gone.
"What did you do?" Allison asks distressed. She looks around, her connection with Phil cut completely for the first time in God knows how long, like a lifeline that's pulled out of her system. She's pale, looking like she's about to faint. Her breathing speeds up and only now Austin realizes the flaw in his plan. He's not sure whether it will still work, but he must try.
"I want to help you, but in order to do that, I need you to be honest," Austin says, knowing time is running thin. Once Phil realizes Allison can't hear him anymore, he'll take measures. "Can you do that now?"
"I don't want your help!" She's still shaking, looking around with worried eyes, scared Phil might come running through the door at any second. She's still not caving in, so Austin must go further. No matter how painful it might be to her. He must get to her very core in order to get through to her. It's his last straw.
"You hurt yourself whenever Phil reminds you of the power he performs over you. It's a habit, a way to numb the mental pain he inflicts upon you," Austin spews. Allison opens her mouth to respond, but Austin continues mercilessly. "He used you to distract me on the ship and you managed to, but that last night, the urge to kiss me was stronger than anything you'd ever experienced before. And that scared you."
"Stop," Allison begs. A feeling tells him he's heading in the right direction, so he proceeds.
"Phil never told you he killed your mother, did he? You hate him, I know you do. It's why he hasn't been able to completely control you after you found out." He looks at Allison and, instead of someone that is broken down by her brother, he sees how strong and free she was in Deal. How she could've been if it hadn't been by Phil's influences and he knows, "I'm in love with you, Alls."
"Stop!" She exclaims desperately, her hands in her hair, pulling like she can remove his words from her brain. He has no time to feel hurt by her response. "Stop talking!" Austin is breathing heavily, the continued stream of words pulling the oxygen from his lungs. He got through, but was it enough to change her mind, to have her let go of her old life with Phil and everything involved? Only time could tell and they were running out of it. He needed to know now. And the only impression Allison was making on him now, was the one of a very distressed girl, willing to do anything to make him shut up because every word he said was messing up the order and regulation Phil had planted in her head. "What do you want me to say?"
"Anything that isn't a lie!" The only thing he wanted her to be right now, was truthful. Though, for her, that was a difficult task. A selfish part of him only cared about a truthful response to his confession, no, an accepting response. A mutual response. Allison's eyes get pulled to something outside the café and then drop. Austin is curious to what she saw but knows better than to lose her out of his sight. He has a faint sense that time was really running out now and that Allison knew very well. He was still looking at her intensely, waiting for her response. She looks defeated.
"It's too late now, Austin." As she speaks, a little red dot appears in the middle of her forehead. A laser, undoubtedly, and, still, it takes Austin a second to comprehend. Undeniably, Allison's view contained a man with a rifle hanging out of a window, its barrel pointed at her head. She takes a deep breath, a sob escaping from her throat, and concludes, "I'm sorry."
In a reflex, he stands up and moves the table forward, knocking Allison over. As she falls, a gunshot deafens the customers of the café. The window next to them breaks into a thousand pieces and the shards cover them both. Once he manages to open his eyes again, he's on the ground, too. Allison lies beneath him, her face unhurt. He exhales a laugh, tears appearing in his eyes with relief.
"Allison, you're okay," he says, a gleeful smile on his face, and he touches the side of her face, but she fails to respond. Her head is turned sideways, her eyes shut peacefully. A red stain on her chest expands in size rapidly.
Sad, it had to come to this. But that meeting showed that she cannot be trusted anymore.
I brush some dust off my white lab coat. I doubt the doctor misses it while he's knocked out in the broom closet.
I thought I had eliminated her emotional capabilities entirely, but the boy somehow managed to mess with her enough to make her appear to have vulnerabilities.
And I simply cannot have someone that is so undependable.
I walk straight to her room. No one stops me, no one even looks at me weirdly. I'm used to it by now. It's remarkable how much power, how much prestige a simple coat carries.
They really should improve the security of hospitals. This ought to be the easiest one I've faced.
I reach into the pocket and feel the soothing material of the syringe. It's cold and smooth against my palm and I smile.
Just a little cyanide and she'll be sleeping forever. Good thing I've got a whole can of this. Its undetectable nature and causation of a simple heart failure have saved me many bloody hands.
I do hate making a mess.
The door is opened on a crack. I don't bother knocking.
All alone. Just like mother. Can't deny I'm sensing a déjà vu.
Walking straight to the side of her bed, I don't waste time. She's pale, lifeless, vulnerable. She's never looked more beautiful to him. I take the syringe in one hand and take the tube that connects her hand to the drip feed in the other. The needle shines in the bright lightning.
Tell her 'hi' from me, would you, Sunny?
This chapter was so important and I'm happy with how it turned out. Fun how you sometimes still manage to impress yourself.
Today, I finally solved a little writer's block that kept me from finishing the epilogue. I'll write it next week and hopefully have it done without having to pause the updates.
Stay tuned for the final (regular) chapter next week!
