THE LABYRINTH
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"Ginny!" said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain." (J.K. Rowling)
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Chapter Thirty Five
Inside Danny's head, so many thoughts were clamouring for attention that his mind felt beseiged. Ever since the explosion that had separated him from Mac and Adam, one fact, and one fact alone, had been straightforward. Marcus Thorne was the villain of the piece. Every path led back to him. His tower, his traps and his pet computer. But now it seemed that things were far more complicated. Staring through the glass at the impossible figure, Danny's grasp on reality began to slip.
Grace's look of horror turned to one of satisfaction. She smiled to see his confusion.
Wish I had a gun...
"What's the matter?" Flack said sharply, fingers tightening on the handle of his own weapon, which he had drawn before they even entered the room.
Danny shifted on the balls of his feet, never once wrenching his eyes away from the woman's face. "She's dead."
"Who's dead?" Rowd stood on the other side of him, also armed and wary.
"Meet Grace Adachi," he told them grimly. "Mother of Anna. Recently deceased. As in 'crushed beneath a pile of rubble'. Leaving nothing but a shoe and a shiny brooch. Oh - and a grieving daughter..."
Grace bowed. Danny wrenched the sliding door out of his way, dislodging the cracked sheet of safety glass entirely and sending it crashing to the floor like a shower of diamonds.
"Don't you dare!" he shouted. "Don't you dare..."
"Danny!" Flack was right behind him. His hand reached out and settled on Danny's shoulder. It was more than a warning.
"I'm not..." Danny muttered, unclenching his good hand which had formed a tight fist. "I wouldn't hurt her. You know that." He stared at Grace's eyes, which were wide now, and full of alarm. I did that, he thought, and frowned.
Rowd slipped round behind her and cuffed her hands together. She squirmed, but did not pull away. She doesn't care... Danny realised. What kind of monster was this? How could she be so cold-hearted? Anger burned inside him, mingled with disgust. He wanted to know; to force the answers from her. To make her explain.
Soon, he promised silently, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Very soon...
Right now, there were far more urgent questions to ask than 'why'.
Farraday, meanwhile, was bobbing nervously in the background, bony fingers stretching up high in a gesture of submission. His face was waxy with fear and he seemed to be counting the number of armed and angry men in the room.
"Who's he?" Flack said. "You know him?"
Danny recognised an attempt at distraction when he heard it. Right now, he couldn't even bear to look at Grace any more, so he played along willingly.
"That's the Bird Guy. Mr. Robin Farraday, building liaison. Guess he 'liaised' himself into a whole mess of trouble when he hooked up with her." Danny stalked up to the man and jabbed his chest with an angry finger. "Unless it was all your idea?" The sneer on his face implied that he very much doubted it.
"Mine? No! Oh, no." Farraday stared over Danny's shoulder and swallowed, making his sharp adam's apple lurch up and down in his throat above his bow tie. "Does he have to point that gun at me?" he grumbled, ducking his head to try and avoid Flack's gaze. "I surrendered. I'm perfectly harmless. Surely you can see that?"
Flack snorted. Farraday looked offended.
"I could help you..." he offered slyly. An ugly, wheedling tone crept into his voice. "Make a deal?"
"You've been watching too many cop shows," Flack scoffed - but Danny was closer and he had caught the gleam in Farraday's eye.
"You remember me, don't you?" he said. "And my friends? From the party?"
"I do."
"Don!" Danny's plea was passionate. He couldn't help himself.
"You know where they are?" Betraying nothing of his own emotion, Flack moved closer and lowered the gun, just a fraction.
"I do..." Farraday began to look distinctly smug.
Flack gestured around the room. Already, Fordham, Roake and the junior agent were scanning the screens, one man to each wall.
"And what's to keep us from finding them ourselves?" he demanded. "Seems pretty simple to me."
"Oh, but you can't. They're in the one place where Yūrei's eyes are not allowed to go."
"The one place?" Danny said carefully.
"Yes." The liaison folded his arms. At last, control was back within his claw-like grasp.
"In the whole building?"
"Yes."
"Thorne's apartment, then...?"
"Why - yes..." Farraday's confident stance began to wobble.
They made it, Danny thought, full of disbelief. How on earth...?
"No eyes," Flack said, his mind on the practical, as always. "So we can't see them - fine. Can we talk to them..?"
"It's complicated," Farraday began - until he caught sight of Flack's expression and threw up his hands once more. "No problem..." he gasped. "Only, please stop pointing that dreadful gun in my direction. How do you expect me to think clearly if I'm in fear of my life?"
"The same way that we had to," Danny growled, making him shrivel. "Or haven't you been watching?"
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Mac felt strangely peaceful.
Beyond the shadows of his secret world, he could hear the hum of distant voices. At first they had been raised in fear and anger; sending waves of borrowed hurt crashing through his skull. There had been another sound too; percussive, and bright like the warped kaleidoscope that came before a migraine. But gradually the tension had receded and an overwhelming sense of calm began to envelop him at last. The ache in his head flowed out to the edges and left a void where he could rest and be free.
Nor was he alone there.
Faces came and went, shards of memory that brought him comfort. Some were bright and some were hazy. Two were painful to bear at first; a woman and an older man, with their echoes of love and loss - but that only made them more precious. Adam was a constant presence. Mac felt safe with him nearby; and that surprised him. Like twin spirits, kindness and loyalty passed through the veil between them and gave him strength as he tried to draw the splintered pieces of himself back together.
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Divide and conquer. That was Adam's plan. It seemed wise in his head - but the only leadership experience that he could truthfully claim belonged to the imaginary world of role-playing games. Valuable to some extent, perhaps, but not entirely practical. If only Mac had been awake, and able to advise him. But Adam's decision to refrain from shooting Thorne had given him a deeper confidence in his own instincts and so he took a deep breath and began to move his pieces around the room, making sure that each one followed his quiet instructions.
His first thought had been to shut Marcus Thorne in a room on his own and leave him there, setting Jeremy Carter to act as a guard on the door. The safest move, no doubt, and the most appealing - but even as Adam opened his mouth to give the order, reason whispered in his ear and offered an alternative. He paused - and considered.
When you had limited resources, it was better to use them wisely. Thorne was insane; no doubt about that. But he was also the only person in the room who stood any chance of interacting with Yūrei and convincing it... her?... to let them go. Which meant that the best place for him was back at the keyboard.
Thorne groaned and whimpered endlessly about broken bones and brutal savages, but Adam stoutly ignored him. Nearby, Carter's face wore a shadow of his former tigerish grin - forcing Adam to rethink yet another part of his plan. Put Carter too close to Thorne and who knew what he might do in an unguarded moment? Hoping against hope that his trust in her would not be turn out to be misplaced, he took another risk and chose Arabella to guard and assist her brother. To Adam's relief, she was instantly compliant; her bright eyes full of respect. Carter frowned, but the gun in Adam's blood-stained hands was a strong argument and nobody else in the room cared to stand up against it.
Feeling a sudden surge of wickedness, Adam then ordered Carter into the kitchen with instructions to forage for something to eat and drink. The frown morphed into a sullen glare - but Carter did as he was told, crashing mugs and slamming cupboards in an effort to relieve his temper.
Which left only the eerily-silent Miss Yamada. Standing primly in the centre of the room, she waited without a single word for Adam to decide her actions. Was she so used to doing as she was told that she could barely think for herself? Adam felt more than a little disconcerted by her steady gaze. No - not obedient. This was a woman who watched and considered, and chose her moments carefully. Dangerous, then. Potentially, the most dangerous person in the room. He could not tell what was going on behind her dark eyes, and that scared him.
Keep your friends close - and your enemies closer...
"What do you know about first-aid?" he ventured, finally.
"Enough." Miss Yamada's shrug was delicate; graceful, even.
The thought of her so near to him, touching him; tending to his injury when he could not even trust her enough to turn his back on her... it was almost unbearable. But what choice did he have?
Sending Miss Yamada into the bathroom to search for medical supplies, Adam dropped to his knees beside Mac, with the gun still clutched in his aching hands and a vague fear in his mind that somewhere, somehow, he had allowed a flaw to creep into his strategy.
Afraid to drop his guard for even a moment, he risked a sideways glance at Mac's quiet face - and started.
Was he... smiling?
"Boss," he whispered. "Mac. Oh, please, can you hear me?"
No reply. But Mac shifted quietly on the couch, and the ghost of a smile grew stronger on his lips. His face was drawn, and his eyes were closed, yet there was a peaceful air about him that gave Adam courage, and hope. If they could just hold on...
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Farraday, subservient and highly nervous, led Flack and Danny through the control room to the far end, where there was a hidden booth containing one large screen. Stella had already warned Flack about the 'little girl ghost' that seemed to be running things but, even so, his first sight of Yūrei's face had been a disconcerting one. "That's just plain creepy," he muttered, and Danny agreed with him.
To his great relief, as Farraday reached out and jabbed his finger at the screen, connecting with the image of Yūrei's left ear, the haunting face disappeared, to be replaced by a straightforward list of options. Farraday worked quickly. A dizzying array of commands rolled by. His fingers moved up and down, tapping here and there, until at last he nodded to Flack. "Speak now," he said.
"What - just speak?"
Farraday sighed at his lack of understanding.
"No microphone, detective. Yūrei can hear you. Say what you need to say."
Feeling rather foolish, Flack spoke his message to the room at large. With nothing else to focus on, he stared at the screen before him as though, by doing so, he could force Yūrei to conjure up the reply that he longed for.
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Thorne gave a squeal and pushed his chair back from the keyboard, striking his sister in the process and making her stumble.
"Adam!" she cried.
Adam shot to his feet and raised the gun, full of fear and suspicion.
And then he heard it.
His jaw dropped and a feeling brighter than a golden sunrise filled his chest.
"NYPD," said a voice from the screen. "Is anyone there? Mac? Ross...?" Yūrei's face still gazed down upon them - but Adam would have known the speaker anywhere. No 'angel', but a miracle all the same.
Detective Flack.
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Moments passed.
"This isn't working," Danny grumbled.
Flack bit his tongue and swallowed the smart remark that lingered there. The man deserved a little patience. So far, Danny had only dropped a few hints about his experience in the nightmare world above their heads, but they were bad enough to make Flack's stomach churn.
"Wait," Farraday insisted.
Right on cue, a strange voice, tight with fury, cut through the booth from somewhere above their heads. "Get out," it said. "You have no right to trespass in my home."
"Are you kidding me?" Danny hissed under his breath. Flack turned to the bird-like liaison.
"Mr. Thorne, I presume?" he muttered. Farraday nodded.
Clearing his throat, Flack continued.
"Mr. Thorne," he said. "This is Detective Flack of the NYPD. We have every right to be here, I'm afraid."
Thorne's next words were rather confusing. "No. I'm not moving - hey! Ow!"
"Um... sorry about that," a new voice said breathlessly. "Hey, Detective Flack. It's so good to hear your voice."
"Adam?" Flack said in amazement. "What did you just do?"
"Wha..? Oh - no, not me." Adam's giggle was music to their ears. "That was Arabella. She's got moves..."
"Okay..." Bewildered, Flack tried to piece the puzzle together. "And Arabella is...?"
"Long story," Danny intervened. "Longer that I could have guessed," he added. "Buddy - how you doin'?"
"Danny?!" Adam's tone was joyful.
"Yeah," he mumbled, bashful all of a sudden. "Made it. Your turn now."
"Thank God..." The young man's relief was heartfelt. Flack knew exactly what that meant.
"How's Mac?" he asked carefully.
"Oh." Adam paused and Flack could picture him weighing his words. "He's... resting."
"Resting?"
"Sleeping, I think. Look, I'm fine - we're all fine here; the rest of us, anyway. But you need to get Mac out as quickly as you can. Like, now. I'm not joking, okay? We're in Thorne's apartment..."
"I know," Flack reassured him.
"...and there's a way down from the roof. Some kind of lift... Wait - you know? Hey, where are you guys, exactly?"
"We're in the control room."
"You are? Then you can let us out!" The trust in Adam's voice was almost painful to hear.
"Adam. We're in the room." Danny cautioned. "We're not in control. Not yet, anyway. But we do have a plan - so hang in there, buddy. Can you do that? Are you safe?"
"Safe?" He laughed; an odd sound - high and humourless. "I guess so. I've got the gun... What's your plan?"
"You've got the...?" Flack shook his head in disbelief. "Never mind. You're doin' good, Ross. We're on our way - that's all you need to remember. Hold tight and we'll be there before you know it."
"'Kay," said the small voice on the other end.
"See you soon, buddy," Danny called out, watching Flack make a slicing motion with his hand across his throat. Cut the feed. Farraday moved to obey - and Adam was gone.
With the flourish of a magician, Flack reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.
"What's that?" Farraday asked, full of suspicion.
"This," Flack said, "is the Plan." He grinned. "But I don't think you're gonna like it. No more 'liaising' for you. Time to wave bye-bye to your precious Yūrei..."
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A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! More soon...
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, and to Farmgirl and Lily for their support.
LATER NOTE: Thank you to TazFireShadow. Your review was very helpful. It really made me think and I have made a couple of slight changes to this chapter which should hopefully cure the 'hiccup'.