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The Broken Silence
Chapter 29
Chasing Shadows
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Otterman very slowly and carefully approached the door to the plane. His back was in absolute agony from being forced to fly in coach all the way from Bulgaria, and he could barely walk. Although Moose Boy had offered to help him, Otterman refused his help out of pride. Everyone else had long since left the plane, and it was only the flight attendants and the two villains remaining.
"Sir, are you sure you don't need an ambulance called?" one of the flight attendants asked him in concern.
"I'm fine." Otterman snapped impatiently.
That flight attendant had actually been fantastic the whole flight, and she had provided him with everything he asked for when she realized he was in pain. Even taking double the amount of painkillers he was supposed to didn't even dent the pain he was in, and he could only manage to shuffle slowly.
"We don't mind helping you, Sir." the told him gently.
Otterman was embarrassed and he shook his head. "I can do it myself." he said rudely.
Moose Boy held back for a second and whispered something in the flight attendant's ear and she gave him a nod and then picked up a radio. She walked back out of his hearing range, and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
Roundabout had wanted to keep their mission a complete secret, and so they couldn't use a V.I.L.E plane for their travels. They'd had no choice but to fly on a commercial plane, and to their annoyance they were booked economy seats. The first part of their flight hadn't been too bad, and they had a stop in Germany to refuel and then from there it was a twelve hour flight to San Diego.
There was a screaming baby behind them the whole flight and as Otterman's pain got worse and worse, he felt like screaming along with it. Every bit of turbulence on the plane sent waves of pain throughout his body, and it was when he began using the sick-bag that he caught the attention of the flight attendants.
Moose Boy explained to the crew that Otterman recently had back surgery and was in a lot of pain from the plane shaking. Because of the bad turbulence, the flight attendants couldn't allow him to get out of his seat, and so he was forced to sit in agony for almost the entire flight. They had brought him blankets and pillows and free drinks, but nothing had helped.
Now that they were finally in San Diego, Otterman had struggled to get up and it took Moose Boy taking him by the arm before he could stand. His back had completely seized up, and they'd had to let everyone off before them. When Otterman finally made it to the door of the plane, he groaned when he saw the stairs, knowing this was going to be excruciating.
Otterman's eyesight wasn't the best, and the shiny metal stairs were blurry in his vision, and it was hard to judge where the steps were. Gripping the railing tightly, he very carefully stepped down, his whole body shaking from the pain. His foot slipped as he misjudged the distance, and Moose Boy quickly caught his arm, the bigger man prepared for this to happen. Without a word, he reached down, and scooped Otterman into his arms, who immediately began to struggle.
"Henrik! Put. Me. Down!" he ordered in embarrassment. "I can do it myself!"
[[No, you can't.]] Moose Boy replied firmly in Swedish. [[You're in a lot of pain, and I'm going to help you whether you want me to or not. Stop being so stubborn.]]
Otterman's face reddened, and he was certain everyone was staring at them as they descended the stairs. Once they were on the ground, he gave a squirm, expecting to be put down, but to his surprise Moose Boy kept walking and crossed the tarmac towards the building.
"Henrik!" Otterman whined, giving another squirm.
[[Hush.]] Moose Boy scolded, as they approached a man standing nearby.
As they got closer, Otterman saw the man waiting for them had a wheelchair with him.
[[What?]] Otterman protested. [[No! I don't need a wheelchair! Henrik!]]
[[Sven, stop being so stubborn.]] Moose Boy repeated as they neared the man. [[You need help.]]
"Sir, do you need an ambulance called?" the man asked as Moose Boy gently lowered Otterman into the wheelchair.
"No, he just needs to rest his back once we get to our hotel." Moose Boy assured him. "The flight was just a little too long for him. He had back surgery and is still recovering."
The man gave them a nod of understanding. "Do you need assistance pushing the wheelchair?"
Moose Boy shook his head. "No, Sven isn't very heavy. I'll be okay."
Otterman clapped both hands to his face as he turned scarlet, and he said nothing as Moose Boy began pushing the chair towards the doors.
Security was a nightmare to get through, and for some reason they kept directing all questions about Otterman to Moose Boy. It was like he wasn't even there, and he found it degrading and humiliating. When TSA had spoken to Otterman, their questions were pretty basic, and it was clear they thought he was special needs. Otterman knew they were judging him by his appearance and it was embarrassing. The lenses in his glasses were like coke bottles, and he was thin and pale and he knew he looked pretty pathetic sitting in the wheelchair. He grew petulant and crossed his arms against his chest, but knew better than to say anything.
Since Otterman had a controlled substance in his painkillers, security had checked all the paperwork they'd brought with them, and then gave the 3rd degree to Moose Boy about their reason for travel and what the pills were for. Moose Boy wasn't exactly the swiftest man in the world, but they had rehearsed what he was to say to TSA for hours before getting on the plane.
Moose Boy calmly told security they were tourists from Sweden, and that the pills were from Otterman's recent back surgery. He was able to answer every question directed to him, and they had seemed satisfied. Once they had gotten through the rest of security with minimal problems and collected their bags, Mooseboy took him to the airport cafe and bought him a hot chocolate, knowing that normally cheered him up. Otterman sipped at his hot chocolate sullenly for a few minutes, and then reached into his pocket for his pills.
[[Is your back still not feeling any better?]] Moose Boy asked in concern.
[[A bit better,]] Otterman admitted, [[but it still hurts a lot.]]
Moose Boy reached out and gently took the bottle from his hands. [[How about if we just give your back a bit more time before you take any more of these?]] he suggested. [[Dr. Vess said they're incredibly strong, and you've taken two already. They could upset your stomach.]]
Otterman heaved a sigh, and went back to sipping at his hot chocolate without a word. Otterman had always loved chocolate more than anything else, and it didn't pass his notice that his partner always brought him chocolate anytime he was hurt or upset. He knew Moose Boy was just trying to help, and he didn't have the heart to tell him hot chocolate wasn't going to help him right now.
When they had finished their drinks, Moose Boy was giving him a hopeful look, and so Otterman spared him a smile. That was enough for Moose Boy who grinned widely in return.
[[I'll drive us to our motel now.]] he told him, pushing the chair towards the car rental kiosk. [[Do you know how to get there?]]
Moose Boy had a terrible sense of direction, and so while Otterman couldn't drive due to his eyesight, he was always the one to direct the bigger man on where to go.
He gave him a nod. [[Yes, I know how to get there.]] he replied. [[I studied the map of San Diego last night.]]
[[Great!]] Moose Boy said in a chipper tone. [[Which motel are we staying at?]]
[[The Green Tree Motel. It's the same one Team Crackle are staying at.]]
Moose Boy nodded, and then stopped the wheelchair so he could speak with the rental desk. Otterman took that opportunity to pull out his com and then glance at his missed messages. There was nothing too important, and so he opened Candycrush and started a new level. After he beat five levels, he finally glanced up to see what was taking so long.
"What's going on?" he demanded in English.
Moose Boy looked grave. [[There was a mix-up and they don't have a car for us.]]
Otterman let out a groan. This was exactly the type of thing that always happened to them, and he felt resigned and frustrated.
[[And what are they doing about it?]] he asked.
Moose Boy hesitated, and Otterman narrowed his eyes. [[What?]] he demanded.
[[Er...they said there's nothing they can do about it…]]
Otterman scowled. [[What?!]] he cried out, glancing up at the front desk. "Excuse me!"
A young man poked his head over the desk so he could see him. "Yes, sir?"
"You can't just leave us stranded at the airport like this! We had a reservation!"
The man winced sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Sir, but we have no cars to give you."
"Well, what about your competitor?" he demanded, glancing over at one of the other kiosks.
"We're all sold out for today." the man told him. "I'm so sorry, but perhaps we could call you a taxi?"
"And are you paying for this taxi?" Otterman shot back.
Roundabout didn't want to attract attention by spending a lot of money and so their funds for this mission were extremely limited. They were banned from using their credit cards in case anyone noticed they were no longer in Bulgaria, and they were strictly forbidden from thefts of any kind. If they got caught stealing, it would bring Roundabout unwanted attention from the other faculty. He had threatened the both of them with a mind-erase if they dared so much as steal a stick of gum.
"I apologize, but that is not something my company is able to do."
Otterman crossed his arms. "Is there a supervisor or something I can speak with. We had a reservation and this isn't fair!"
"I'm sorry, Sir, but there's no supervisor at this time."
"What are we supposed to do!" Otterman cried out angrily. "Walk?!"
He then glanced down pointedly at the wheelchair and then glared at the man. The man looked suitably sympathetic which only made Otterman even more annoyed.
"I can call another location and see if they can bring a car if you like?"
"And how long will that take?"
"Hard to say." the man admitted. "It depends on how far they have to bring the car. Did you want to wait for it?"
Otterman glowered up at him. "Do we have a choice?"
"Not if you want a car." the man replied in a chipper tone.
"Yes, we will wait for it." Otterman said, once again feeling resigned.
"Great! Take a seat over in the waiting area, and I'll call you when the car arrives."
Moose Boy pushed the wheelchair over to the empty waiting area and carefully shifted Otterman into one of the seats. Taking a seat beside him, Moose Boy glanced down at his partner, noting his expression of annoyance.
[[It'll be okay, Sven.]] he assured him. [[Maybe the car will get here fast?]]
Otterman didn't have high hopes because nothing ever seemed to go in their favour. Shifting on the hard airport seat, he laid down across three of the seats, resting his head in Moose Boy's lap without a word. Moose Boy immediately began running his hands through the smaller man's hair, and Otterman found himself beginning to calm down. The pain was more tolerable in this position, and so he simply laid there feeling grumpy and resigned. Why did nothing ever go right?
An hour later, Otterman had fallen asleep, and Moose Boy sat diligently still, not wanting to jostle him. He watched the tv screen above them, feeling bored but not complaining.
The man at the service desk glanced over at them, and his expression became a bit more genuine as he frowned thoughtfully. Glancing down at his wedding ring, he rubbed a finger over it, and then let out a sigh.
"Excuse me, Sir." he called over.
Moose Boy looked up in confusion. "Me?"
"Yes, Sir, could you please come here for a moment?"
Moose Boy stood up without hesitation, forgetting about his partner, and Otterman's head fell the second he moved and smacked into the seat painfully.
"Din jävla dum skalle!" Otterman cried, rubbing at his head.
"Oops, sorry, Sven!" Moose Boy said with a wince.
Otterman glared at him, and Moose Boy offered him a sheepish smile and then hurried over to the kiosk.
"Yes, I'm here." Moose Boy announced.
The man raised a brow at the exchange he'd just witnessed. "Yes...I see that."
"Do you have a car for us?" Moose Boy asked hopefully.
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you here. There's no way you're going to get a car tonight. It's Friday night and everywhere is booked solid because of a concert in town."
Moose Boy's expression fell. "Oh." He glanced over at Otterman, and his worry was clear.
The man followed his gaze and he offered Moose Boy a sad sort of smile. "How long have you two been together?" he asked.
"Oh, a long time." Moose Boy answered. "Since we were eighteen. We met at the academ...er, I mean at school and have been partners ever since."
"Wow, that's a long time to be together. Any plans for marriage?"
Moose Boy looked incredibly confused for a moment, and then realized he had misunderstood. "Oh, sorry, sometimes my English is a bit...wrong. Sven still doesn't admit we're dating. He thinks no one knows."
The man gave him a look of complete disbelief because any moron would look at them and know they were together. He knew how horrible it could be to be faced with homophobia and again ran a finger over his wedding band. It took a lot of courage to face the hostility of the world, and he sympathized completely.
"I hope he feels comfortable enough to come out soon." he told Moose Boy. "I know it can be difficult."
Moose Boy briefly wondered if he was misunderstanding the English again, because he had no idea what the man meant. "Er...yes." he reluctantly agreed.
"Look, I'm really not supposed to do this, and I could get in a lot of trouble for even offering, but I'm off work in ten minutes and I could drop the two of you off at your hotel if you like?"
Moose Boy had never been more relieved. "Really?"
The man nodded. "In the morning, give our toll free number a call and explain to them what happened. They should be able to get a car transferred to you by the end of the weekend."
Moose Boy smiled widely. "Thank you!" he cried out. "Thank you so much! I'll go tell, Sven!"
The man watched the large lumbering Swede hurry back over to his partner and smiled. Hopefully their trip to the USA would get better from here.
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Mime Bomb couldn't sleep that night. His mind was plagued by memories, some good and most terrible. He found himself thinking of a time in his life that he had tried desperately to forget.
It was the loneliness that had made it unbearable more than anything they had done to him. Mime Bomb had come from a very physically affectionate family, and he had been accustomed to getting hugs, being held, getting kisses, but there was no physical contact in the hell he found himself in. The only time they touched him was to cause him pain, and he quickly became touch-starved and incredibly lonely. Zack had been the first person to hug him in nearly fifteen years, and he had latched himself to the boy like a lifeline.
The silence had been agony during his time there, and it had felt absolutely smothering. When he had first been placed in the room, he had screamed and cried non-stop first for his grandmother, and then for his father, but no one had come for him. His screams had seemed to die almost as soon as the sound left his mouth, the sound-proofing on the walls absorbing every noise he made. It was like the room was eating his every word, and it terrified him.
Mime Bomb would scream until his voice was hoarse, and then the silence would come crashing in on him like a wall. He couldn't stand it, and so for his every waking moment he had begun to sing just to fill the room with some sort of sound. It helped keep the silence at bay, and it made things a little easier for him to deal with. He would sit there with his eyes closed and imagine he was somewhere else, his song hiding the fact he was in hell.
They had not been happy over what he was doing, and he soon found himself being punished more and more severely. When nothing could stop him from singing, they had taken him out of the room and dragged somewhere he had never been before. Mime Bomb had no idea what they had actually done to him in that room, but he remembered the burning agony in his throat that had made him cry. His cries had come out silently however, and this had terrified him. He had tried screaming, he had tried whispering, but there was nothing but silence. They had stolen his voice, and then tossed him back into the terrible white room.
Mime Bomb could no longer hide from the crushing silence that surrounded him. Every day was filled with silent tears, and he wished someone would come rescue him. The silence became deafening and every little sound became incredibly painful. His every breath had been acid to his own ears, and after a time he had learned to carefully control his breathing so he never made a single sound.
When they would come for him, their steps and their voices felt like glass in his ears and he always curled under his bed with his hands over his ears. They would just drag him out and take him, and the moment he left his room, the sounds would be unbearable. He never realized how agonizing sound could be until every little sound seemed to be magnified tenfold. The sound of a creaky hinge? It was like nails on a chalkboard. The sound of a cough? It was like an explosion just beside him.
He would walk along with his captors, hands held over his ears and tears blurring his vision, but he never gave them any trouble, and so they allowed him to follow unrestrained. Every time they took him from his room, it was only for more pain, but after a time he grew resigned to it, and never offered any resistance. Whenever he behaved himself, he would be rewarded with a piece of orange candy, and he quickly learned to detest the taste of anything orange. Orange was the flavour of his pain, it was the flavour of silence, it was the flavour of his captivity. Even years later, Mime Bomb refused to touch anything that was orange flavoured.
Mime Bomb stared up at the ceiling, knowing at this point that sleep would not be finding him that night. He knew he owed both Zack and Alys an explanation of where he'd been during his four year disappearance, but how could he possibly explain it when he didn't even fully understand it himself? Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he rolled over and stared towards the window. It was almost morning and he could just see the beginnings of light appearing on the horizon.
Hearing the sounds of spinning tires on the gravel outside, he wondered who would be arriving this early in the morning. It was barely five, and a little odd in his opinion. He slowly sat up as he heard a car door slam shut, and he decided to be nosy and get up to investigate. Padding across the room in his bare feet, he peered out the window and saw three tall and burly men standing in front of a black, windowless van.
The men didn't look like they were delivery men, and Mime Bomb narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Were they here to rob the Bed and Breakfast? They had left the engine idling, and the way they were glancing around the property made him think they were looking for the best way to enter the property. To his surprise they knocked on the front door loudly and the old woman who owned the Bed and Breakfast must have been awake because she answered the door pretty fast. He listened for a moment and there didn't seem to be an issue, and so he shrugged and figured they must have been expected company.
Deciding to investigate the possibility of an early breakfast, he headed for the door. Giving a long and lazy stretch as he left the bedroom, he passed by Zack's room and then started down the stairs. The sounds of voices met his ears, and he paused when he heard Russian accents. Peeking over the railing at the living room below, he saw the three men speaking with the old woman who ran the inn. She pointed towards the staircase and the men all glanced over, their gazes immediately falling on Mime Bomb. One of the men took a few steps towards the stairs and looked up at him, the man staring a bit too intently at him.
"Yuri Volkov?" he questioned.
Mime Bomb's eyes widened, and without hesitation, he fled for Zack's room. Bursting into the other boy's room with a crash, he slammed the door closed, and then locked it. Zack woke with a start and then stared at him in confusion as Mime Bomb began dragging a heavy bureau in front of the door.
"Uhhh...what's up, buddy?" Zack asked, having no idea what he was doing.
Mime Bomb then dragged a few chairs and other things over as the sound of footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. Mime Bomb then ran for Zack, grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the bed. Zack stared at him in confusion, but when the saw the terror on the other boy's face, he knew it was something serious.
"What's going on?" he demanded. "What happened?"
Mime Bomb opened the window and then began climbing out, still pulling Zack by the hand.
"Whoa, what are you doing?!" Zack asked. "You're going to fall!"
Mime Bomb gave his hand a desperate yank and suddenly there was pounding at the door. Zack stared at the door with wide eyes, and then turned his attention back to Mime Bomb.
"Mime Bomb?"
Mime Bomb yanked his hand again, a pleading look on his face and Zack gave him a nod.
"Okay, let's go." Zack said, crawling out after him.
Trusting that Mime Bomb knew what he was doing, he carefully balanced along the tiles of the roof as Mime Bomb hurriedly began heading for where the roof was slanted. Finally releasing Zack's hand, Mime Bomb jumped down the ten foot drop with practiced ease, and then turned to make sure Zack was following. Zack had not gone through V.I.L.E training, and so a ten foot drop was a bit intimidating to him. There was a loud crash behind him as the bedroom door was broken down, and so he got down on his hands and knees and then lowered himself down on his fingertips letting go and falling the remaining couple feet to the ground.
Mime Bomb instantly had him by the hand again and they ran for the trees, crossing the nearby field.
"YURI VOLKOV!" came a loud yell from behind them.
Mime Bomb paused and looked behind them and saw the three men staring at him from the bedroom window. One of the men drew a gun from his coat pocket and fired a shot before either of the boys had time to react. A dart hit the tree right beside Mime Bomb's head, and his eyes widened in fear. He yanked Zack into the forest and then they ran, Mime Bomb remembering the way through these trees. He knew they had to warn Alys and headed for the cottage, knowing the shortcut through the woods would allow them to beat a car there for several minutes.
The damp moss under their feet made it easy to run through the woods, and Zack glanced behind them having no idea who the men were.
"Who were those guys?" he demanded. "Are they from V.I.L.E?"
Mime Bomb simply shook his head, having no way to explain at the moment. Cutting across a shallow stream, they crawled their way up a hill and found themselves in the fields that surrounded Alys' property. Mime Bomb ran across the wet fields and as soon as he reached the cottage, he began pounding on the door as hard as he could. The door was unlocked and as he threw it open, he hoped they weren't too late.
He crossed the mudroom, banged again on the inner door and then charged inside, a terrified feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Hello?" Zack called out loudly.
A nearby door opened and a very bleary-eyed Alys peered out at them. Mime Bomb was so unbelievably relieved to see her that he ran and threw his arms around her in a bone-crushing hug.
"What in the-Yuri?!" she questioned, taking in the sight of him in confusion. He was in his pajamas, and was soaking wet and barefoot. "What happened?!"
"I don't know, but three men showed up at the Bed and Breakfast and they were after Mime Bomb. They shot at us and we ran for it."
Mime Bomb grabbed Alys' hand then gave it a tug pointing towards the door.
"What? No, Yur-I mean Mime Bomb, I'm not going anywhere." she stated, glancing towards the door. "Who is after you? What happened? Have they found you?"
Mime Bomb nodded, and tried to force her towards the door. Alys gripped the wheels so she couldn't be moved.
"I'm not leaving my home, because they're not going to hurt me." she assured him. "It's always been you that they were after. I'm a nobody to them."
Mime Bomb grimaced and she yanked him down into a reassuring hug. "Don't worry, I'm not going to allow them to take you."
The sounds of a car screeching to a stop outside the house, had them all staring towards the door in alarm.
"Yuri-er Mime Bomb, do you remember the secret liquor closet?"
Mime Bomb gave her a nod.
She gave him a shove towards the kitchen. "Go, get inside the closet and don't come out no matter what you hear."
Mime Bomb shook his head and so she turned to Zack. "Take him." she ordered. "Go now before they get here."
"But Alys..." Zack protested.
"I swear I'll be fine, but if they get their hands on Yuri again, we'll never see him again! Take him, now! The secret door is inside the cupboard."
Zack glanced between Mime Bomb and Alys and then seized Mime Bomb and dragged him towards the kitchen as he struggled and fought to get back to his sister.
"Stop! We have to hide." Zack ordered him, as he fought to keep a hold of the smaller man.
Mime Bomb shook his head and struggled with all his might to break Zack's hold. They couldn't just leave Alys to face them alone!
"No, we have to hide!" Zack told him. "I'm not letting you go! Stop fighting me!"
Mime Bomb's response to that was to sink his teeth into Zack's arm as hard as he could. Zack let out a startled yelp, but didn't let go and instead tightened his grip even more. Once he had dragged the smaller boy into the kitchen, he gave Mime Bomb a sharp shake and then pointed towards the cupboards.
"Show me where the hidden door is."
Mime Bomb tried to pull away and Zack harshly jerked him back, and gave him another shake.
"Where, Mime Bomb, show me where!"
Mime Bomb seemed to shrink in on himself and Zack immediately felt guilty. They heard voices in the other room and Mime Bomb reached out and opened one of the cupboard doors. He then hit a panel in the back and it slid away showing a small room filled with wine bottles.
"Come on." Zack whispered.
Mime Bomb stared towards the door, worried for Alys and Zack pulled him towards the hidden compartment.
"Please, Mime Bomb, just let us hide and keep you safe. Please."
Mime Bomb looked completely distraught, but he gave a slight nod and then climbed through the cupboard into the hidden room. Zack quickly crawled in after him and closed the cupboard door after them. He slid the hidden panel closed and then they sat knee to knee in the tiny room, simply listening.
"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Alys demanded as the three men entered her home.
"Where is Yuri Volkov?" one of the men demanded.
"Get out of my home now before I call the police!" Alys snarled. "I haven't seen my brother in over fifteen years! He went missing when he was seven!"
"Don't even try to lie to us." the man said threateningly. "He was seen in Cardiff at a restaurant, and then we got a call tonight that reported him in your house. I know he's been staying at the Bed and Breakfast, and he ran in this direction just a few minutes ago."
"I haven't seen him." Alys snapped. "He's not here."
The man narrowed his eyes at her, and then glanced over at the other two men. "Search the house." he ordered.
The men immediately rushed in opposite directions to do as told, and Alys scowled.
"Just who do you think you are?!" she growled. "Get out of my house!"
"We will once we've located Mr. Volkov." he replied. "How about if you just make this easier on yourself and tell us where he is?"
"I don't know where he is." Alys repeated firmly.
The man cracked his knuckles. "There are ways I could make you talk." he threatened.
Alys drew herself up and met his gaze fearlessly. "Try it and see what happens, you twat."
The man scoffed at her. "You are really dumb, girl." he observed. "What are you going to do, roll over me?"
"Yeah, I will right after I beat the shit out of you!" she retorted.
He stared down at her and then without warning, he backhanded her hard enough to knock her out of the wheelchair to the floor. He then let out a dismissive snort at the sight of her clutching her aching jaw.
"Women should not argue with men." he commented. "Learn to do as you're told."
Alys suddenly lashed out and slammed her elbow directly into the man's kneecap. Taking him completely by surprise, the man cried out in pain as his leg buckled, and he fell to the floor hard. Alys was on him in an instant, punching him with every ounce of her strength over and over. She brought her fist down into his face and chest mercilessly, and anytime he tried to sit up or move, she'd harshly yank him back, not stopping for an instant. Alys trained every single day at the gym and her arms were powerful, and her stamina was second to none.
"Lousy creep coming into my house!" she snarled, hitting him again and again. "Disrespecting me, and then laying your hands on me. Well, how do you like my response, asshole? Want me to say it a little louder?"
The man struggled and fought against her, but she had him pinned down using her full body weight and he could do nothing to stop her. She was suddenly yanked off the man, and then gently put back in her chair. She glared at the two men who were now helping their partner to his feet and she crossed her arms angrily.
[[We found nothing.]] one of the men said in Russian.
[[Did you check absolutely everywhere?]]
[[Yes, we looked under every bed, inside every closet and in every cupboard. He's not here.]]
The man wiped the blood from his face and then let out a curse. [[He must have headed for the river instead. If we drive around the village, we should be able to cut him off before he gets too far.]]
He then turned a look of loathing towards Alys and slowly pulled out his gun. One of the other men grabbed his arm to stop him.
[[You know our orders. No killing civilians.]]
The man's expression turned ugly, but he reluctantly put his gun away.
"You're lucky this time." the man snarled at her, spitting on the floor just in front of her. "We'd better not find out you lied to us!"
Alys narrowed her eyes at him and then leaned forward fast, pleased when he flinched. "I'm not lying and I have no idea where he is. Now, how about you get the hell out of house before I call the police?"
The men exchanged a long look and then turned and headed for the door without another word. Alys wheeled after them and watched as they got in their van, and the moment they drove away, she closed the door and then headed for the kitchen as fast as she could.
"Yuri?!" she called out. "Zack! It's okay to come out now, they're gone!"
There was a pause and then the cupboard door opened. Mime Bomb looked up at her as he climbed out, his expression agonized, and he threw his arms around her tightly.
"Aw, Annwyl ." she said gently. "I'm fine. They didn't hurt me."
Mime Bomb touched a hand to the bruise on her cheek and she scoffed.
"You should have seen what I did to him." she bragged.
Mime Bomb felt so guilty for leaving her while he hid like a coward, and it must have shown on his face because Alys pulled him back into the hug.
"It's not safe for you here, Annwyl , you need to leave. They will be back."
Mime Bomb shook his head and she gently placed her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at her.
"I want you to stay, but they will come back over and over until they finally get you. Go home to the United States where you'll be safe."
Mime Bomb shook his head again.
"I don't want to lose you again." Alys told him. "If they take you, we both know we'll never see each other again. Even if we're a whole continent apart, I'll be happy just knowing you're safe."
"We can call you every day." Zack promised her.
Alys shook her head. "We can't rule out the possibility that they're tracing my phone. I don't want them being able to find you."
Mime Bomb clutched her hand tightly, and again shook his head. He pointed towards the door and then pulled her hand, his meaning clear to her.
"No, I can't go with you." she told him sadly. "I would just slow you down, and I would never jeopardize you like that. My life is here, I can't just leave Wales like this. My home is here, my bar is here, my friends are here, and someone has to remain with Gram."
Mime Bomb's expression was stubborn and he gave her hand another hard yank.
"You need to run." Alys told him. "You need to run as far as you can from here. I'll be fine and you don't have to worry about me."
Mime Bomb's expression turned angry and he stomped a foot and tugged her again.
"No, Yuri." she told him firmly. "I can't go with you. I refuse to put you in danger."
Zack had no idea what to say. "We'll get our tech guy to figure something out." he promised. "We know where you are now, so we'll get in touch with you."
Zack turned and put his hands on Mime Bomb's shoulders. "Come on, buddy, we have to go before they come back. I don't really know what's going on, but I know these guys probably won't give up this easily."
Mime Bomb gave Alys an agonized look, not wanting to leave after just finding her. He knew he had no choice and it made him both angry and devastated at the same time. Feeling tears welling in his eyes, he threw his arms around her in one last tight hug. As he pulled away, he kissed her cheek and then turned towards the door.
"You remember the shortcut through the woods to Omar's orchard?" Alys asked.
Mime Bomb nodded, keeping his back to her.
"Steal Omar's truck and then take the logging roads to get to the airport. He keeps his car keys in the ignition of his truck like a dumbass."
Mime Bomb gave her a nod, and still didn't turn around. Alys reached out and gave his hand a squeeze.
"Promise me you'll be safe." she begged. "I don't want to lose you again."
Mime Bomb returned the squeeze, and then removed his hand from hers. Still not looking back, he headed for the door not waiting for her to say goodbye.
"I love you, Yuri."
Mime Bomb stopped walking for a moment and then hunched his shoulders and walked out the door into the rain.
"It was really nice meeting you." Zack told her. "We'll contact you as soon as possible, I promise. Give us a few hours to reach our tech guy and we'll figure something out. We're all family now, Alys, and we're not going to just cut you off."
Alys gave him a smile. "Please protect Yuri, Zack. Don't let them take him."
"No one will hurt him." Zack vowed, turning towards the door. "Goodbye, Alys."
"Be safe." Alys begged, as Zack left the house.
Zack glanced around not seeing Mime Bomb and then he spotted him already halfway across one of the fields. He took off after him at a run, and he caught up just a few moments later. Mime Bomb didn't even glance at him as the other boy fell into step beside him, his gaze set firmly ahead.
"We're going to figure this out." Zack promised him. "We'll get Player to set something up so we can talk to her."
Mime Bomb turned a glare at him and pointed to his throat.
"I meant video chat." Zack responded, rubbing at his sore arm.
Mime Bomb glanced at the bite mark on Zack's arm and then grimaced guiltily. He reached out and touched a sympathetic hand to Zack's arm and then signed sorry. Zack gave him a shrug.
"I get it, man, you were scared for your sister. Bite me again though, and I'll bite you right back!" he threatened.
Mime Bomb nodded, and then he gave a tug to Zack's arm, knowing they needed to hurry. Barefoot, wet and freezing cold, they ran for the woods, hoping to be able to make it back to their plane safely.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Siren hummed quietly to himself as he stared down at the mountain of paperwork, clicking his pen thoughtfully as he did so. The paperwork was always endless, and so he wasn't exactly in a hurry to finish the stack on his desk. Flipping through a few pages, he picked out a few that looked somewhat interesting and turned his attention to them. They seemed to be medical charts of some kind and knew this was exactly the sort of thing Dr. Vess was interested in.
He had been working with Dr. Vess for a long time now, almost a decade in fact, and the doctor was always interested in new medical advancements. Although they didn't exactly get along, they had made a lot of incredible discoveries together. They had created vaccines that were far more efficient than anything the general public had access to, and Dr. Vess was always creating new balms and ointments. When they were creating, it was interesting and fun, but unfortunately for Siren, most of his work involved translating research papers. Hours and hours of tedious and dull translations. Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork.
He was tired of sitting there at his desk hour after hour, and he glanced up. How long had he been sitting there anyway? Rubbing at his eyes, his gaze fell on his assistant who was staring at him with a somewhat vacant expression.
"What time is it, Ted? He demanded.
His assistant simply stared at him and didn't move.
Siren rolled his eyes. "Helpful as always, Mr. Roo."
Somehow he had been assigned the most useless assistant on the planet. The man never did what he was supposed to, and had the I.Q of a potato. The man was enormous at over seven feet tall and looked like he could lift a car, but yet he was an assistant. Sometimes he wondered if Vess had hired him just to irritate him. Having an assistant two feet taller than him was annoying, and he was always staring at him vacantly.
Siren glanced to his right at the two guards at the door and then frowned at them when he realized they were staring at him as well.
"What?" he demanded.
The guards shifted a bit uncomfortably and averted their gazes.
"What the hell is everyone's problem today?" Siren demanded. "Am I getting the silent treatment or something?"
When no one answered, Siren let out a deep sigh and pulled out a pile of his finished paperwork. He plopped it down on the corner of his desk and then glanced to his left back at his assistant.
"Ted, go fax these to V.I.L.E for me, I'm sure that's not beyond your capabilities."
Siren maintained eye contact for a moment and then reached for the nearby mug of coffee. Taking a gulp, he immediately pulled a face at the cold and sour coffee. Ugh, how long had that been there? Pushing the mug aside, he gave a stretch which caused an audible crack in several of his stiff limbs. He must have been there longer than he thought. Was the work day already over?
He wasn't entirely certain of the time, but knew he should at least finish the papers he had started. With a sigh, he turned his gaze down at the documents.
The entire stack of documents were all in Russian, and he was supposed to translate them for V.I.L.E so they could do whatever it was they did with paperwork. English was such a boring language in Siren's opinion, and he wished he could translate into a more interesting language. Farsi was a fun language, and Korean was nice to his ear. He hadn't spoken Korean in a very long time, and he found his mind wandering as he worked, thinking of the documents he had once translated from Urdu to Korean. That had been a fun assignment, not at all dull like this nonsense. Unfortunately translations like that weren't very common for him.
Quietly singing a K-pop song to himself as he worked, he ignored the way the guards were staring at him, not really caring what they thought of him. Finishing the two sheets he had started, Siren looked up and saw the stack of paperwork was still exactly where he had left it ten minutes ago. Siren narrowed his eyes and glanced over at Ted who still standing there, not doing anything.
"Are you serious right now, Mr. Roo?!" he said, slamming a hand to his desk. "Do you ever do anything?!"
Ted didn't seem inclined to answer, and Siren scowled at him.
"Why is everybody refusing to talk to me today?" he demanded. "Did Vess put you up to this?!"
Ted simply stared at him silently, and Siren felt his temper beginning to slip.
"Answer me!" he ordered, raising his voice. "Explain yourself right now or I swear I'm going to fire you, Mr. Roo! You think someone else is going to hire you? You're going to end up living homeless in Moscow!"
When Ted still said and did nothing, Siren felt himself snap and he threw his mug of cold coffee at him as hard as he could. His aim was terrible however, and he missed by several feet, the mug shattering across Vess' desk.
"Aw shit…"
Getting up to assess the damage, he crossed the room and saw every paper on Vess' desk was now drenched in coffee.
"Ted, grab me a rag or something!" he ordered in panic. "Quick!"
When Ted simply stared at him, Siren scowled at him. "Really , Ted? You can't even do this for me?"
Ted simply shrugged at him.
"I swear, Ted, I'm going to-"
"Er, here…" said a very uncertain voice beside him.
Glancing over, he saw one of the guards was holding out a roll of paper towel towards him. Siren snatched it and immediately began sopping up the mess, hoping he hadn't ruined anything important.
"See, at least someone here is useful." he muttered, shooting Ted a glare. "Useless meatsack."
Tossing the shattered pieces of mug into a garbage can, he dried the papers as best he could, and then looked them over. They were stained but luckily still legible. Vess was still going to be furious, but at least nothing had been ruined.
He tossed the paper towel into the garbage can and then glanced over at the guards. Both men were staring at him with wide eyes like they were frightened of him, and he sighed. Why was everyone always acting like that around him? Yes, he had a foul temper, but he was also only 5'2 and not exactly a threat to anyone. Why was V.I.L.E hiring such pathetic people lately? Rolling his eyes, he headed back for his desk and took a seat.
He didn't really feel like doing any more paperwork right now, but also didn't feel like doing anything else. He was agitated now, and he glared over at Ted, blaming him entirely. He really needed to fire him, but he always seemed to forget once he got distracted.
Reaching up a hand to run it through his hair, his fingers got tangled in his rat's nest of a haircut, and he shook his hand to free it from the mess. He really needed to get his hair cut one of these days before it became completely out of control. Siren tended to get distracted by work, and so his personal grooming was sometimes less than spectacular.
"Oh, thank god." one of the guards suddenly said.
Siren glanced up to see Dr. Vess entering the room, looking tired and somewhat irritable.
"Doc, he's going nuts again." the guard whispered a bit too loudly.
Siren scowled. What a bunch of tattletales V.I.L.E hired. This new batch of guards were pathetic cowards.
"Oh?" Dr. Vess questioned. "How so?"
"He's screaming at Ted again, and he threw a coffee mug across the room."
Vess glanced over at him, and Siren quickly looked away, pretending to be busy with his paperwork.
Dr. Vess let out a deep sigh, and then approached his desk. "Are you yelling at Ted again?" he demanded. "We've talked about this."
Siren scowled and tossed a handful of papers to his desk. "I'm firing Ted."
"Don't be ridiculous." Dr. Vess scolded impatiently.
"He does absolutely nothing all day besides stand there looking stupid!" Siren cried, pointing at finger at Ted. "Just look at him! Completely useless!"
Dr. Vess glanced over to humour him, and then his gaze fell on his own workspace. His eyes immediately narrowed to angry slits, and he quickly crossed the room to his desk. He picked up a piece of stained paperwork and then held it up towards Siren who quickly averted his gaze.
"It was an accident, I was aiming for Ted...sorry."
Dr. Vess pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath and then once again approached Siren's desk.
"Have you been sitting here since I left?" he demanded.
Siren scratched at his head. "Uh…yes."
"I've been gone for two days, Siren." Dr. Vess informed him in exasperation.
Siren was surprised. He'd gotten so engrossed in his work that he hadn't even noticed it had been that long.
Dr. Vess looked him up and down. "Have you eaten or drinken anything since I left?" he demanded.
Siren turned his gaze to a half-eaten sandwich on his desk, and once again Dr. Vess sighed.
"That's the same sandwich you were eating three days ago." he commented.
"I did a lot of translations while you were gone." Siren said, proudly pointing to the stack.
This caught the doctor's interest and he immediately reached for the pile. He flipped through them and then frowned at the two sheets on top.
"Siren, what is this?" he demanded, sounding fed up as he held up the two pieces of paper towards him.
"What do you mean?"
"Take a look and you tell me."
Siren took the two sheets and glanced at them and then winced. He had accidentally translated them from Russian to Korean.
"Oops."
"Okay, you are going to go eat something, take a shower and then go to bed before you destroy anything else."
Siren began pulling the sandwich towards himself and Dr. Vess quickly shoved the plate away from him.
"How you've managed to live this long is beyond me, Siren." he snapped. "Don't fucking eat the E. Coli sandwich."
"What about Ted?" Siren demanded. "Are you going to fire him? He's useless, distracting, and I don't want him here anymore."
"Go, Siren, now." Dr. Vess ordered, his tone completely fed up. "Go eat something."
Siren glanced back at the sandwich and the doctor shoved it into the trashcan. "Seriously, Siren? No. Go eat food that won't kill you."
Grumbling irritably to himself, Siren glared at Ted and then headed for the door, noting how the guards were quick to get out of his way. He gave them a glare too, and despite being a foot shorter than them, they stepped back from him. Siren shook his head. Cowards.
Dr. Vess watched his lab partner leave the room, and then let out a loud sigh. Turning to the guards he gave them a hard look.
"You two stood there and allowed him to starve himself?! You know how focused in his work he gets."
"We're not his babysitter." one of the guards grumbled. "I'm not paid enough to deal with his level of crazy. He shouldn't be allowed to work here, it makes the lab a hostile work environment."
Dr. Vess narrowed his eyes. "Who do you suppose is more valuable to V.I.L.E, a scientist who has an eidetic memory, or a dime-a-dozen guard ? Who do you think is more likely to be fired if there's ever an incident?"
The guard grimaced.
"Exactly ." Dr. Vess snapped. "I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself. Siren is your superior, and if I ever hear you gossiping or bad-mouthing about him again, you will be the one getting fired, do I make myself clear?"
The guard quickly nodded and kept his gaze firmly on the floor.
"Good."
Dr. Vess gave him one last glare and then headed for his desk. Brushing the damaged papers aside, he pulled out his chair, and took a seat. He then immediately realized there had been a puddle of coffee on the chair as it seeped through his pants.
"Oh, for god's sake." he snapped.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Neal was being obnoxiously loud again, but Team Red was ignoring him for the moment, their attention fully on the television screen. The mood in the room was sober, and no one said a single word as they watched the reporter approach the gate of a prison.
"This is Tanya Walker reporting live from the Poitiers Penitentiary in France. Earlier this morning there was a prison break and a convict is now on the loose in Poitiers. He is presumed armed and dangerous and if seen, do not approach and do not engage. Call your local police department to report the sighting. The convict's name is Michael Philip Finnegan Jr and he is a 22 year old Caucasian male standing at 5'8 with medium length brown hair, brown eyes and multiple facial piercings."
Team Red stared at the mugshot that appeared on the screen, and then exchanged a long look with one another.
"No one tell Mime Bomb about this." Carmen stated. "We keep this under wraps unless we absolutely have to tell him. If he knows his torturer is out free and walking, I don't know what that will do to him."
"We need to go after him." Chase announced, crossing his arms. "We can't just ignore this."
"I agree," Carmen told him. "But there's more at play than just one man breaking out of prison. It would have taken a lot to get him out of the prison unseen by the cameras or guards. This was a big job with a lot of people involved."
"V.I.L.E?" Le Chèvre guessed.
"Perhaps." Shadows said thoughtfully. "Or it could be the Irish Mafia."
"We'll have to carefully investigate this." Carmen responded, her eyes still on the screen.
"HEY !" came a bellow from the basement. " HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!"
There was a collective sigh in the room.
Tigress flexed the claws on her gloves thoughtfully. "He can't talk if he has no vocal chords." she commented.
"No, Sheena, we're not going to hurt him just because he's trying to annoy us."
"Trying?!" Le Chèvre snapped. "I was annoyed yesterday. Today, I'm ready to strangle him."
"He hasn't slept either." Ivy pointed out. "I've been keeping him awake all day and so he should be too tired to bug us during the night. We just gotta make sure he doesn't sleep until tonight, and then he should pass out the same time as the rest of us."
"...I'm going to slip a sleeping pill into his supper just to be sure." Tigress commented.
"No, you're not drugging him, Sheena. Honestly." Carmen said with a sigh. "He's annoying but he's not hurting anyone."
"Says you." Tigress snapped. "I have bags under my eyes!"
"We have to meet with Crackle in a few minutes. Who's going to stay to watch Neal to make sure we don't have a repeat of last time?"
"I'll do it." El Topo volunteered. "Jean Paul's breathing was bad last night and so I'm going to stay here with him. I'll watch after Neal at the same time."
Tigress let out a snort. "Good luck."
Le Chèvre looked sullen as El Topo said this, and it was clear he didn't want to remain behind. His chest was sounding a bit rattly with every breath, and everyone knew he would need to spend a bit of time resting with his oxygen mask.
"After the meeting with Crackle, we're going to see if we can track down where they've been hiding out, and then we'll stop and bring supper home." Carmen told El Topo and Le Chèvre. "We shouldn't be more than a couple hours."
"HELLOOOOO! " Neal bellowed from the basement. " I'M BORED! SOMEONE COME TALK TO ME!"
El Topo rolled his eyes. "I'll go keep him company for a while." he told them. "I'll see you guys later."
"Don't let him sleep." Ivy warned him.
"I know, I know." he responded. "I'm going to bring down my tablet, and maybe watch a movie with him to keep him quiet so Le Chèvre can rest for a while."
"The internet has been blocked on it, I presume?" Shadowsan asked.
"Of course." El Topo answered. "There are only a few dozen movies and games on it and no internet."
Shadowsan gave him a nod as Le Chèvre slowly got up from the couch. Le Chèvre was angry and embarrassed, but he didn't say anything, knowing it was pointless. He would be useless on the mission in his current state, and he knew he needed to rest while using the oxygen tank until his breathing had improved. As he headed out of the room, El Topo quickly got up to follow him.
El Topo knew Le Chèvre was upset, and once they were alone in their room together, he reached out and took his partner by his hand. Le Chèvre glanced down at him in question and El Topo gave him a smile.
"After you rest for a while, we could spend some alone time together, mi amor." he suggested. "Just the two of us for a change. How does that sound?"
Le Chèvre knew that El Topo was just trying to cheer him up and he let out a sigh and then offered him a smile. "Sure, mon amour, that sounds wonderful." he replied, sitting down on his bed as El Topo reached for the nearby oxygen mask.
El Topo turned on the tank and then held out the mask towards Le Chèvre who reluctantly took it from him. As he fit it over his face and took a deep breath, his chest immediately felt a bit less tight. He leaned back in bed and looked up at El Topo who was doing a bad job of hiding his worry.
"I feel better already." Le Chèvre assured him. "After a nap, I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine."
"I'll just be down in the basement if you need me." El Topo told him, reaching for his tablet. "Let me know once you wake up and I'll come spend some time with you."
Le Chèvre gave him a nod, and El Topo reached forward and lifted the oxygen mask so he could steal a kiss. Le Chèvre laughed and returned the kiss, and then replaced the mask before he began to get wheezy again.
"Sleep well, mi amor, I'll do my best to keep Neal quiet."
"Merci, Antonio."
Le Chèvre leaned back against his pillows with a yawn, and El Topo headed for the door, unable to stop a yawn of his own. Rubbing at his eyes, he gave a shake of his head in an attempt to wake up, and then walked down the hallway towards the living room. The rest of Team Red were still talking amongst each other and as El Topo passed them by, Carmen smiled at him.
"Thank you for volunteering to stay behind." she told him.
"It is okay, mi amiga, I don't mind." he told her, completely meaning it. "I'll be fine."
El Topo opened the basement door and then started down, powering on the tablet as he did so. Neal finally went quiet as he descended the stairs and when he got to the bottom, he saw Neal was looking a bit sullen.
"Kia Ora, Antonio." he greeted.
"Hello, Neal." El Topo greeted amiably. "How is your leg doing?"
Neal glanced down at his foot and gave a shrug. "I've had worse... Are you going to talk to me for a while?"
El Topo crossed the basement, and to Neal's surprise, he took a seat beside him on the mattress. "I'll keep you company for a while, but I was hoping we could talk about something…"
Neal leaned against the support beam behind him, and gave him a curious look. "Oh?"
El Topo stared at Neal for a moment and then frowned. "We used to be friends, Neal. You were always someone I could count on to help me when I needed it."
"Used to be?" Neal questioned, raising a brow. "I didn't realize I'd been dumped as a friend. Ouch."
El Topo let out a sigh. "You know this is how it has to be. We're on opposite sides now, and we are enemies."
Neal gave him a shrug. "I suppose you're right, love."
El Topo then turned to face him fully. "But it doesn't have to be that way."
Neal gave him a skeptical look.
"You could join us." Antonio told him.
Neal let out a snort.
"Why not?" El topo demanded. "I know you're not a bad person, Neal, and I know you don't want to kill us. Why are you still with V.I.L.E? You can just wash your hands of them and join us."
Neal stared at him in silence for a moment, and then said. "It's not that easy, Antonio."
"It is !" El Topo insisted. "We won't let anything happen to you, and you will be safe with us. V.I.L.E won't be able to retaliate against you. You'll like it here with us, we are a family here."
"Sorry, Antonio."
El Topo frowned at him. "Why?" he demanded. "Why do you want to stay with V.I.L.E? You don't even like any of the head faculty!"
Neal let out a deep sigh, his expression settling into a resigned look. "Leaving was easy for you, Antonio, you were only with V.I.L.E for a couple years. I've spent almost half my life with them, and honestly it's all I know at this point. I enjoy the thrill of the missions, and I enjoy the rush from the fights. I don't even know what I'd be without V.I.L.E, and I don't care to find out."
El Topo shook his head. "You can start over with us." he insisted. "You're not evil, and there's a place for you here. Join us, Neal."
Neal shook his head. "I don't want to leave V.I.L.E, Antonio. I know what V.I.L.E is doing is wrong, but I also don't agree with what your team is doing. You're a bunch of vigilantes that are running around committing crimes in the name of 'justice'. Because of your team, V.I.L.E has actually stepped up their game, which is why my team was formed. Things are just going to keep escalating until you either destroy each other or one of you wins. Either way it's going to get ugly."
El Topo shook his head. "No, what Team Red is doing is right. V.I.L.E has to be stopped."
Neal stared at him with lidded eyes and then let out another sigh. "I'm thirty-two years old, Antonio. How many operatives can you think of that made it to their thirties?"
El Topo furrowed his brow. "There's a few…" he answered as he began trying to mentally count them, quickly realizing the number was alarmingly small.
The senior agents were less than a dozen out of hundreds of operatives…El Topo's eyes widened as he realized how many operatives must have died or been arrested if there were forty graduates every single year. There were over four hundred operatives in total, and if only a dozen made it over the age of thirty, then that left possibly thousands dead or simply gone. El Topo had never thought about it before, and it was really depressing.
Neal saw his expression and smiled. "Exactly." he stated. "Most operatives don't survive their first five years with V.I.L.E. I never really expected to make it this long to be honest. I always kind of pictured myself dying in an explosion or some other dramatic fashion...maybe a plane crash. That seems fitting."
"Neal…"
"There's a reason why V.I.L.E faculty only turned to the older operatives when trying to replace Shadowsan. We're all survivors, and allegedly the best the organization has to offer. We beat the odds and succeeded whereas the rest of our classmates failed."
El Topo's frown deepened. "That's terrible." he commented.
"All of their assumptions about us is complete tosh however, and just because we're survivors doesn't mean we're any good at running V.I.L.E. The example I will use is Otterman. He and I share a birthday and he's hilariously bad at his job. We're lucky, not special."
"Then why stay with them?" El Topo said, unable to understand. "Why stay when you know you're probably going to die? Do you want to die?"
Neal went silent for a moment. "No." he finally answered. "But I also can't see myself as an old man. What happens when I'm past my prime, when I can no longer fight?"
El Topo stared at him with wide eyes and Neal let out a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax, Antonio, I knew what I was getting into when I joined V.I.L.E. I've been with them almost 15 years, and I've had a blast."
El Topo shook his head. "But it doesn't have to be this way! You could join us, and you would never have to worry about anything like this again! That letter you gave me last year...Neal that's really messed up. You need to leave V.I.L.E."
Neal narrowed his eyes. "You read it?"
El Topo had the grace to look sheepish. "...I was curious. Sorry."
Neal rolled his eyes, and then sighed. "And you never told anyone about what you learned?"
El Topo shook his head. "Of course not, we were friends, Neal, and I don't betray friends."
"You were always too good for V.I.L.E Antonio. Most other operatives would have used that information to blackmail me. Dash Haber certainly tried."
"That letter, Neal...is that really how you want your brother to find out you died? Through a ten page apology letter?! Do you really think that's fair to him? You need to leave V.I.L.E before you hurt Adam by dying or getting arrested."
"Don't ." Neal warned him, tone losing all levity. "You don't use my brother against me."
"I'm sorry." El Topo said genuinely. "I'm just trying to understand. You're not a bad person, and you don't deserve to die, and I don't want to see you get arrested either. We both made a mistake when we joined V.I.L.E, but it's not too late."
Neal stared at him in disbelief, and then amusement. "Antonio love, I am a bad person. I might smile, and I might joke, but at the end of the day I'm still a thief and a murderer. You were a young operative and never had to kill anyone. Eventually everyone in V.I.L.E is forced to take their first life."
It was hard to imagine Neal ever hurting anyone, but El Topo knew this was the truth. V.I.L.E had ordered him and Le Chèvre to kill Mime Bomb and they had been fully prepared to do it. They had almost become murderers themselves, and so he was sympathetic to the villain.
"You do not want to kill us." El Topo said with certainty. "You saved Julia twice at the parking garage, and then you saved Zack from the woodchipper. Those aren't the actions of a bad person."
"No one wants to kill people, Antonio...well except for maybe Paper Star. I'm a bit worried about that one to be honest." Neal responded.
"Please, Neal, you know this is not going to end well for you. V.I.L.E is not going to last forever. Join us, and you will finally be free from V.I.L.E's clutches. Join us and you can even return home to your brother."
Neal heaved another sigh. "I was eighteen years old when I became an operative. If V.I.L.E erases my memories of them, they will take nearly fifteen years of memories from me. I'd be left with the mind of a teenager in the body of a thirty-two year old. They might as well just kill me at that point."
"We won't let them." El Topo assured him. "V.I.L.E will never get their mitts on you, and your memories are safe."
Neal stared at him long and hard, and then suddenly laughed. "Well, Antonio, you are certainly determined."
El Topo offered him a smile. "It is because I still remember how you helped me during training. You worked with me every night for an entire week until I was ready to take my first term exams. You were a senior operative who did not have to do that, but you took pity on me."
Neal gave him a smirk. "Actually, love, I was hitting on you...that is until I found out about tall, dark and grouchy. I backed off then, but you were a nice kid, and so I continued helping you out."
El Topo's cheeks coloured. "...oh."
Neal expression slipped back into a cheeky grin, and he elbowed El Topo with good nature. "I'm just joking, love."
El Topo laughed. "Oh! Good! You had me a bit worried there!"
Neal smirked. "Or was I?"
El Topo stared at him with wide eyes, now having no idea what to think. Neal, however, looked entirely too pleased with himself, and then gave a long and lazy stretch.
"I'm not going to stop asking you to join us, you know." El Topo informed him. "I will ask every day until you give in."
Neal rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, love, you win."
El Topo blinked. "...what?"
"I said you win. I'll join Team Vigilante."
"Wait...really?" El Topo asked in surprise.
"Sure." Neal replied, an odd sort of smile on his lips that El Topo didn't trust.
"You're serious?"
"Sure." Neal repeated.
El Topo narrowed his eyes. "It is not that I don't trust you...but, well…"
Neal swiped a hand over his chest. "Cross my heart."
El Topo stared at him suspiciously, thinking Neal had given in a bit too easily. "You're not lying to me, mi amigo?"
"Of course not."
"You are going to join us?"
"Absolutely." Neal replied. "As soon as the rest of my team joins as well."
"Ugh, I knew it." El Topo complained.
"That's the only way I will ever join Team Sheep." Neal responded with a shrug. "The day all five of my teammates join you, I will as well."
El Topo let out a weary sigh knowing when he was beaten. "Alright." he said reluctantly. "I will stop asking for now."
"Any chance of you letting me go?"
"None." El Topo answered, picking up his tablet. "I will keep you company for a while though. Do you want to watch a movie?"
Neal edged a bit closer to him. "Yeah." he said, not expecting this. "It's rather boring down here by myself."
El Topo swiped a finger across the screen to bring up the movies and then handed the tablet to Neal. "Go ahead and choose whatever you want."
Neal stared at the list of movies and instead of looking at titles, he began looking at the run-times to find the longest movie El Topo had. He didn't care what they watched as long as it filled some of the boring nothingness of the basement.
"This one." he declared, clicking on Cleopatra.
El Topo raised an amused brow. "That movie is over five hours long." he pointed out.
"I have nothing better to do." Neal responded with a shrug.
El Topo gave him a shrug. "Okay then. Cleopatra it is."
They sat close together so they could both see the screen, and as it played, Neal gave a yawn. El Topo yawned as well and then chuckled.
"Jean Paul is pretty mad at you for keeping him awake last night." he said.
Neal laughed. "Not you though, love?"
"Honestly, I did not mind the story and probably could have slept through it, but it was Jean Paul's angry ranting that kept me awake."
"Sorry, but I have no intentions of being a peaceful prisoner."
"It is not going to work, mi amigo, they're not going to just let you go. You're only going to make things worse for yourself."
Neal shrugged. "Well, we'll just have to see who outlasts who then, won't we?"
As the movie started they fell silent and simply watched, both exhausted and not really wanting to talk any more. It only took twenty minutes into the movie for them both to fall asleep, and they slept through the entire movie. When Le Chèvre finally came down to see what was taking El Topo so long, he stared at the two men passed out on the mattress, rolled his eyes with a sigh and simply left again. So much for keeping Neal awake...
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TBC