- Chapter Twenty-Six -

Internal Affairs: Hers

Every rose may have it's thorn, but not every thorn has a rose.

A shade more literal than poetic (bad poetry at that), Daniella had learned that the hard way. Scraping herself up from the tangle of limb and leaf spattered across the quote unquote green, the only way was forward. In full fledged fight-or-flight mode before there was even the tiniest hint of pursuit from Jian and his men, there was no single concept outside of survival.

Pain was a fleeting luxury that seemed a foreign ideal, as was time itself. Without sounding too pretentious and up her own ass, the young student could only comprehend what absolutely needed to be processed in order to see another day. Any and all extraneous details were logged away for later, including the searing ache laced within every breath. The blurred lines of salt rimming her lids and hanging from her lashes with damp sweat, the kiss of acid flame in the back of her throat.

Even the anger and rage had smoldered to but an ember.

Dizziness adding fuel to the outside of the gas cans, there wasn't so much as a single window to realize what had been contributed to the collection of scars and stories her body was becoming. Even if by some fluke there had been time, it would take longer than a few seconds to figure out which incisions were caused by shrapnel and which were plant-based. Honestly if there had been just a moment to spare, her first and only thought might have been that she was happy to be wearing shoes this time, but that was only a guess.

To be fair, in hindsight there were a lot of blanks to fill in. What wasn't quite as debatable was the new environment the young woman had found herself in.

While the five second upstairs glance had painted a certain kind of picture of what to expect, real life was once again colder than the imagination. Bridge only visible from the second story up, without the distant crawl of traffic everything was empty and a gloomy shade of gray.

Asphalt was obviously going to be dark, but the murky puddles that had yet to dry or evaporate somehow made it seem grungier than it had been from above. Maybe that was all due to differing angles and suddenly being able to smell the exhaust and ripe trash that overflowed from every direction. Color-wise, the offices across the street now seemed to deepen from a dull cream to a gritty pearl, and that was certainly because of the change in prospective. Unexpectedly, some of the rooftops almost seemed coral in the encroaching sunset, which only made the rest of the grimy walls and streets that much bleaker.

Yet at the same time, it was also a sign... A bright beacon of where to go next...

Hopefully it wasn't as obvious to the enemy.

Low-profile the name of the game, the escapee extended her hand out for the unkempt grass to steady herself as she tucked and rolled oh-so-gracefully to the side. Movements wobbly but sufficient to get the job done, the heiress crouched behind one of two marble statutes depicting a watchful eagle. Hunting and shooting the actual bird may have been illegal, but apparently defacing a stone replica was fair game, because it was quite the task to identify the stone beneath all the tags. Unequivocally the worst part, the leering peepers that had been graffitied over the hawkish eyes only served to fuel her paranoia and general panic.

Rules of logic and cinema implying that she keep to the sidewalk and shadows, the only time the heiress broke the unwritten code was to give doorways and windows a healthy berth. Remaining hunched the entire time she was on the ground, the young woman darted around the corner of a dumpster to hide when a door opened in the deepening city gloom. It was too sudden to be sure of where exactly the door might be, but it was close enough to set Daniella off. Eyes darting in every which direction, there was no sign of who or even where the sound had originated from, but she wasn't about to take any chances.

"Please, please, please..." Voice barely a whisper, she was prepared to run away at a moment's notice.

Heart jack hammering in her ears to the erratic rhythm of some techno-electric dub fusion, the espresso-hued brunette waited for the person or persons to be gone before popping her head out from the safety of its cover. Once she felt like the threat level had receded from red to orange, it dawned on her that staying out in the open was only going to send her into cardiac arrest. Assuming that she wasn't snatched back up first.

And honestly it wasn't like she was giving herself very much credit.

"...!"

A rabbit in human skin, a lone upwards glance revealed that there was a fire escape just out of reach. The next move was obvious, but eww (had she been in her right mind and had the leisure)! Still, when ration eventually caught up it would be with the justification that it was better to only need a bath full of sanitizer than a body bag.

Touch reluctant all the same, Daniella eased the lid closed so that she had a flat surface to stand on. Scrambling over the top of the receptacle, she used the newfound height to her advantage. Wasting no time, the young woman sprang up for the ladder, fingers just barely clasping around the bottom wrung. Shimmying up the vertical rail with as much speed as possible without drawing undue attention, the path only led her so far. Left with nowhere else to go but the very top of the building, she scaled the old stone windows, grateful for their wide lips.

Unpracticed in the art of climbing buildings but not a complete stranger to conquering rock walls, the ascent wasn't awful. There were a few slips and her hands would definitely be banged up, but it wasn't like she held much in stock for outer beauty. And a good thing too, all things considered. Mama on the other hand... Easily a conversation that only happened once the young woman had been able to catch her breath, the only real thoughts that might have been going on in her head at the time were simple facts.

Such as being utterly lost for directions and still a little discombobulated from her ordeal. The hell if she had had the foggiest notion of where she was or what direction to go in.

Honestly at that moment Daniella's sole concern was putting as much distance between herself and the station as she could. Everything else could come later.

[The Plan]

"I already checked. Twice. On two different maps." Cocking her head to the side as she waited for the inevitable rebuttal, Chloe was growing bored with having to explain that it was the best entry point. Honestly he was being a big baby over nothing - she'd had to trudge through many a filthy underground, but she hadn't complained half as much as the thief. "The sewers will take you right under the station parking garage."

With nothing to add to the back-and-forth, Nadine kept going over the blueprints sprawled across the library desk. Wyatt was only half-listening, just in case something important or noteworthy was dropped, as one did. Mostly though, he was surveying the line of encyclopedias collecting dust on the shelves. Pulling one out after the exchange became longer than anticipated, he began to read up on things beginning with the letter 'w'. Out of his element and "lucky" to be included, Logan was just quietly taking it all in.

Getting dirty, that was just your average Friday night for the ex-con. And Thursday, Wednesday... alright, so it was a bit of a habit. What wasn't a habit these days was breaking into a police station run by a vicious crew that cared even less than the average scumbag with a badge and a gun. After spending thirteen straight years in a prison, Sam wasn't exactly in a rush to return to the memories of his incarceration, however it had to be done if he was going to get paid. He just didn't understand why he had to be the one to take the route that would lead him passed the holding cells... any one person there could have taken the low ground, they all had the strength required to lift the grating.

Chloe he understood - she would be on standby as the eyes and ears, her other duties including getting them the hell out of the vicinity at a moment's notice. Obviously the most inexperienced of the party, Logan would best serve as back-up for when things got hairy. Key word being WHEN, not IF. Being among the heavy-hitters, the A team wasn't complaining any about his role, just the path they wanted him to take. Gate crashing via two separate entrances, the B team would slip in through a side door and split up from there.

An alternative suggestion to the alloted formation saw Logan scouting the front to discern what they would be up against, freeing Chloe to partner with Nadine. Naturally the girls could come in low, meaning Sam and Wyatt could clear house. Sam had only just met Wyatt, and offspring of a partner or not, he wanted a sense of how trustworthy the kid was. The thief wasn't saying that Nadine was a poor judge of character per say; Drake only knew from experience that people only showed certain sides in front of certain people. Then again, given what everyone did for a living, trust wasn't exactly the currency of the realm.

[Pirate Or A Quitter?]

"Believe you me, this wasn't what I had in mind."

Lungs filled with ash and whole being on the verge of collapse, her first reaction was to stop, just for a moment.

There was plenty of cover beneath the criss-crossing strings of laundry that whipped in the wind, mixing worn denim and holey socks with manufactured springtime and generic flowers. Adding cruel power to the lure of temporary respite, not even ten yards away a grouping of vents beckoned with the promise of shelter. However, pretty as that image seemed on the surface, it wouldn't fly.

Breath hitching in her chest as a particularly cold gust cut through her bones, the weather itself conspired to have its say. As if there needed to be more obstacles!

Barely up the fire escape and everything felt tilted somehow, yet she'd endured. Skirting a greenhouse full of emerald leaves and yellow sunflowers on an entirely different roof, the world was steadily drained of color. Whatever, that had been immaterial to her purpose, so the young woman carried on. Four more leaps and at least five street addresses passed that, everything was becoming increasingly difficult, however it was written off as the secret city above the normal city just sprawling further apart to separate the men from the boys. It didn't matter...

Right?

Hurdles getting increasingly more strenuous to manage, the strain was quickly becoming too taxing to carry on. Perhaps she had wasted too much time hiding from the noise of no one, or maybe this was simply how it was meant to be. All she knew through the cloud obscuring her vision was that everything hurt, that her muscles had been pushed beyond their limit and her organs could no longer keep up with the demand. But maybe it was better this way...

Gasoline sounding as good as water to cool down the fever searing all the way through to the back of her neck, the neon ads and stacked street signs in the distance flickered, but it was doubtful that the power grid was to fault. Bone brittle as uncooked pasta, somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled a line about butter being scrapped over too much bread.

"No... I... I can't."

Shiver merging seamlessly with the tremble that paralleled the last pillar supporting the spurt of adrenaline that carried her this far, Daniella stumbled as she put the vents to her back. Footing even save for the usual scattering of various debris one found on a roof, under the circumstances another slip like that could cost her dearly. Good thing she hadn't been attempting a vault, or that could have been the end right there.

Not as in her plunge to the the ground below, more like an unnecessary tumble would lead to the last of her strength breaking, which in turn became a betrayal as Jian's men caught up with her during the recovery process. Although meeting the pavement was still a possibility as well.

"There's no rest for the wicked, right?" Daniella could have sworn her father had just whispered into her ear against the bellow of the wind around her, but it must have been a memory.

"Daddy?" Even running for her own life, his was an apparition she would always welcome.

Words forming on her father's lips and coming out with no discernible sound, she almost stopped to greet him, to ask him what he was saying. Was it words of encouragement to urge her on, or was that him reaching out for her with an invitation to join him? Daniella missed him so terribly, however she knew that she had to keep running. Not that it mattered much when they would find her sooner rather than later at this rate...

Technically she was useful to Jian, but there was some doubt in her that it would be enough.

"I know I told you not to settle." It was true, her father had lectured her before about her worth. Shame it only sank in so deep. "There's better waiting."

Hands pressing on her shoulders as if they were both standing still, perhaps back home on the eve of some big event, it almost felt real. Come to think of it, it was how she'd pictured her wedding day, before her father died. No groom waiting, not even the venue clear in her mind. No, when Daniella thought about the day of her nuptials, it was always a vision taking place in her room, the bride-to-be standing in front of a floor-length mirror in her wedding dress, her father saying whatever it was that brides heard when they walked the aisle. As if a child knew!

Not quite the same as it had been in her head, pale lace whispered across her arms when she reached up to clasp for his hand. "This can't be..." veil in place and making it harder to see her surroundings, everything else felt like it had been a dream from the night before, "Can it?"

Too good to be true, if this was just a dream than it was the cruelest thing to happen to her by far. More than anything else, she wanted to hear the words. In fact she wanted it so bad it was actually hurting her to be so close to her dreams becoming a reality. Wet, tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. Mascara was probably dripping down her face, but who cared? Flesh and bone, her father wasn't just an illusion.

Not this time, not fully.

"It could be, if you want it to be." Hugging her from behind, her father chastely kissed the back of her head. Now that she was grown up and about as tall as he had been, she supposed it made sense that it was no longer the top of the crown. "We both know that if you keep going like this, your heart is going to give out. And that's only if you don't bleed out first."

...Bleed out?

"I..." Palm coming away with fresh blood when her hand curled around her abdomen after the latest landing, there was no outrunning that one. Strangely though, it was more distressing to see her father fading away than to discover that she was in such bad shape. "I thought I was a little stronger... Daddy, will you hate me if I die here?"

"Daddy?" He was gone as quick as he had come, and it felt like losing him all over again.

"Oh, Daddy..."

Vision of her white dress gone away, Daniella wasn't sure if she had been saying the words aloud or merely thinking them in her head. Tempting as her father's council had been, the heiress thought of everything that was at stake.

Where the vast fortune of her forefathers was concerned, for all she could care they could have it - private savings account a crutch for such a fate, Daniella had squirreled away enough to keep herself comfortable. Regrettably useful, having virtually all the money in the world hadn't done a thing to make her happy. It hadn't brought the dead back, nor had it given her a single real friend that came without some string or other.

Sadly the closest thing she could claim to such a bond was the present situation with Mr. Drake. Clearly friendship was far from the right term for the arrangement, but that didn't change the fact that there were real people caught up in this mess. For now it was only miss Frazer and Logan, but how much longer would it take for others to be dragged into this circus? Thanks to nothing more than her name, she was responsible for these people.

Logan, miss Frazer, even Mr. Sullivan... none of them had asked for this. The surfer she'd once admired so was far more innocent than the rest on most accounts, so his involvement was perhaps the most regrettable of all. He just wanted the chance to speak to his father, a goal that resonated deeply. Whatever else happened, she hoped that he could have at least a moment. Mr. Sullivan had been removed from her part of the game almost right away, but that didn't mean that he was any safer than the rest of them. Although being with her mother, perhaps he was. From the stories the heiress had heard tale of, Chloe had enough sense to cut out before she was dragged in deeper, but the situation was far from upfront.

Sam... Mr. Drake... He had agreed to this to be fair, but how could he have known that it would get so dicey? Daniella hadn't had the faintest idea of any of this until recently, which only served to make her angrier with her mother truth be. Because there was clearly time for it. Regardless of that pleasantness, the thief surely couldn't have known what he'd be up against, right? It sounded as if the Drakes had a nose for trouble, but this... this didn't feel right.

Daniella hoped that she could spare them from the worst, even if that meant that she only made it long enough to do one last thing with her life.

Too bad that was as likely as her father giving her away at her wedding.

"Who am I kidding?" Whimpering to herself as the pain caught up with interest, the heiress wanted nothing more than to curl up behind one of the vents and close her eyes. "I'm no bad ass."