Mindgames – Part 6
by Pangur Bàn
Rating
(PG, PG13, R) : PG13
Spoilers : probably
Disclaimer: Steven Long Mitchell & Craig W. Van Sickle created the characters of the television series "The Pretender." This fan fiction is purely for entertainment purposes (chiefly my own, admittedly.) No profit is being made here. No infringement is intended.
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Nearly two months after the anonymous death of their friend in a Milwaukee hotel, three people sat in a car as the dark night of an early winter blew cold in Blue Cove. They waited in watchful silence for the man they knew would exit shortly. They had, after all, set up the situation themselves. The exodus of most of the powerful figures at the Centre had happened hours earlier; they now awaited the departure of the last impediment.
The arrival of a limousine turned their collective attention to the main door of the intimidating edifice. They were not disappointed to see two men emerge, one of them carrying a garment bag while talking on the phone, the other laboriously pulling an oxygen tank behind him. The driver popped the trunk and climbed out of the car to help Mr. Raines into the back seat. The driver lifted the oxygen tank in behind his passenger and closed the door. The other bodyguard closed the trunk and joined the driver in the front seat. The car pulled smoothly away.
Grace waited until the limo was out of sight before starting the car. The heater had only just reawakened as they got to the door. Jarod and Sydney got out and quickly entered the building. Grace returned to the surveillance spot and cut the engine to watch again, edgy and impatient.
Inside, the pair swiftly made their way down into the lower levels of the Centre. They had only one purpose in mind, and were intent upon achieving it as quickly as possible.
They went directly to the secure residence facilities. Sydney hurried to the end of the corridor and set the small incendiary device that would hopefully be enough to cover their escape without endangering lives. Jarod meanwhile stopped at the correct door and looked through the portal window. Angelo was standing on the opposite side, looking out with bright eyes, as though waiting for them. Jarod greeted him through the glass, and indicated he should move back. Filling the lock with the low-level explosive gel he had concocted, he made short work of opening the door.
Angelo, curiously, did not rush out. Jarod entered his cell and barely noted the meager surroundings. Angelo did not consider this room any sort of home base, and had no need of making it comfortable or homey. In truth, the empath had no well-defined sense of home base. Rather, he had numerous cache points he considered "private" or "keep-safe" spots.
"Angelo, come with us," Jarod said. Angelo dropped his glance briefly, then looked up again. "Leave now," he said.
There was no time to decide whether Angelo was telling Jarod to leave without him, or if he was indicating his willingness to come. Jarod took him by the arm and led him out of the cell. Thankfully, whatever Angelo had meant, he did not resist.
Sydney was waiting for them in the corridor, a gun in one hand and a small remote control in the other. The three made their way back to the elevator. Sydney pressed the button that lit off a small fire which burned hot for a brief time, activating the fire alarm system, then extinguished to a small heat source which continued to produce a vast amount of thick smoke. Jarod overrode the elevator's emergency shutdown with a fireman's passkey. They rode directly to the ground floor, radioing Grace as they rose. She met them at the door as they rushed out. All three piled into the car, which moved off even before the last door closed. The whole operation had taken less than fifteen minutes, although later that night, each would feel they had aged fifteen years.
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Leaving the keys in the car in a long-term lot, they boarded a night flight to Salt Lake City. The car would likely be stolen in a few days; no one would report the loss. Angelo regarded Grace curiously during the flight. Unwilling to risk attracting attention to themselves by Angelo's possible reaction to her, she was friendly and kind to him, but mostly kept her distance. She and Sydney tried to nap, with spotty success. Across the aisle, Jarod tried to keep Angelo distracted and calm. Angelo watched the in-flight movie with fascination, munching the Cracker Jack that Jarod had brought for him. Jarod didn't bother with headsets, preferring his own thoughts to the dialogue of the movie. An hour into the film, he was aware of Angelo's voice, low and contemplative. He was talking to himself in snatches. Jarod assumed he was commenting on the movie, but a moment's listening changed his mind.
"He hurt her. Had to leave." Nodding to himself, his eyes glued to the screen, he was silent for a moment. Then he spoke again. "Shouldn't have come back. He would hurt her again." His face was thoughtful, illuminated in flashes by the alternating light from the movie screen. He turned to look at Jarod who was regarding him closely.
"He hurt her. Sad." Angelo turned his head to look across the aisle at the napping pair. "She doesn't like to see the pictures." His gaze returned to the flashing images in front of him, and he was once again mesmerized, his commentary over.
Jarod was struck by his seatmate's words. According to what Grace had told them, her stay had overlapped with Timmy's arrival for a short time. Was it possible that Angelo knew who she was?
He reached over to touch Angelo, who looked down at Jarod's hand on his arm. "Angelo, do you know who she is?" He made the question purposely vague, wondering what kind of answer he might get.
Angelo twitched his head in a movement that could have been a nod or a shake. "She left before Angelo came." Jarod was puzzled by the response, and tried another tack.
"Who hurt her?"
Angelo reacted visibly to the question, withdrawing from Jarod's hand and quickly looking down, only glancing up to meet Jarod's eyes fleetingly and shaking his head. "Who, Angelo?" Jarod insisted.
"Him," Angelo pleaded.
"Was it Raines?"
"Jarod," the accented voice floated softly across the aisle. Jarod looked past Angelo to see Sydney leaning over the arm of his seat. "Let it go for now."
"Did you hear what he said?" said Jarod.
Sydney nodded. He, too, was fascinated by what Angelo had said, and burning to know what the empath might know about the woman sleeping next to him. "It's all right, Angelo." The young man shivered, and Sydney rose to pull a blanket down from the overhead compartment. Jarod stood and moved past Angelo to stand with Sydney near the front of the nearly empty first class compartment. They spoke in low tones.
"Do you think he might know about Grace?" the Pretender asked.
Sydney shrugged. "It's hard to tell. And if he does, is it because he remembers her somehow, or because he is empathing it now? They were both only children then." His eyes sparked with curiosity, but his voice was calm. "We still have a long day ahead of us before we get to the cabin. We'll have to be patient."
They looked back at Angelo, who had closed his eyes, apparently trying to sleep. "Why don't you try to sleep for a while, Jarod? We land in less than ninety minutes."
Jarod nodded and returned to his seat, retrieving his jacket on the way. Arranging the coat over himself, he turned his head into the seat back, staring out the window into the dark skies.
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They picked up the SUV they had left in place two days prior and left Utah in short order. The weather and the roads were cooperative, and they made good time. Jarod and Sydney shared the driving duty, logging thirteen hours between them in their trip north. Angelo watched Grace discretely and thoughtfully. Sydney often caught him taking careful looks at her, and was anxious to find out what was going on in that mind. Grace, for her part, took the examination in stride. He did not seem to fear her, but did not yet seemed inclined to converse with her at any great length.
Daylight had once again vanished when they reached the cabin south of Coeur d'Alene. The caretaker had stocked it and left the electric heat on, according to their instructions. The foursome tumbled into the cabin with the few supplies they had, weary but heartened to finally be done with the traveling for a while. The wood box was full, and Jarod quickly set a fire in the woodstove.
Each found a bedroom to call their own and bags were deposited on beds. They all agreed that sleep was first on the bill. Angelo curled up in a chair in the living room and fell asleep in a few minutes. They decided to leave him there rather than disturb him.
"Do you think he might be frightened when he wakes up in a strange place?" Grace wondered.
"I'll sleep on the couch," Sydney volunteered. Pillows and blankets were purloined from beds, and within a half hour, all were asleep.
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The smell of coffee and sausage woke Sydney. Rumpled, he made his way to the kitchen area and dropped into a chair at the table where Angelo was busy feeding the toaster. "Good morning," Sydney greeted them both. "Morning," replied Grace. "Hair," volunteered Angelo. Sydney looked at him curiously. Angelo grinned and lifted the hot toaster by the handles. The psychologist caught a glimpse of himself in the chrome, and raised his eyebrows good-naturedly at Angelo. "Bed-head," Sydney said. Angelo was delighted with the words. "Bed-head," he agreed. Sydney had been about to run a hand through the wild grey hair, but changed his mind. Angelo was animated and lively; let the hair be for now.
Breakfast preparations continued noisily for several minutes. Grace set out four glasses and a pitcher of orange juice in front of Sydney, who began filling them. "Angelo, would you like to go see if Jarod is awake?" he suggested.
Angelo's eyes danced, and he left the table. Sydney looked up at Grace. "He seems relaxed and upbeat."
"We had a conversation of sorts before you got up."
"'Of sorts'?"
"Mmm. I'm not quite sure of why, but I think he wanted me to talk – about anything. He just seemed to want to listen."
"Have you tried to... to read him, at all?"
"No. I don't want to try that, not yet."
"I think that's wise. Let's see what he's willing to talk about first."
"Like matters of personal grooming?" she teased.
"I might just be a trend-setter, you know," he said in mock-defense.
"Doubtful," came Jarod's voice from behind. He grinned at the unfamiliar stubble on Sydney's chin. "I hope you packed a razor."
"Bed-head," said Angelo gleefully, running a hand over his own nearly bald pate.
"All right, all right," Sydney said affably. "I can take a hint."
"You mean you know when you're outnumbered," Grace laughed.
He rose with exaggerated dignity, which dissolved as his stomach rumbled audibly.
"Don't wait for me to start eating. I'm first in the shower." He downed a glass of juice and went to his room as eggs began cooking.
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Sydney emerged looking refreshed. "Anything left?" he said. All three were still seated at the table, and Jarod rose to fix him some fresh eggs. Angelo left the table too, and perched on the far end of the counter, where he could observe the others. Sydney grabbed up the pot of coffee and refilled cups as he poured his own. He sat down, starting in on a piece of cold toast.
Jarod brought over a plate of hot eggs and sausage, and started clearing dishes. Grace started to rise, but he checked her. "I've got it," Jarod said. "Angelo and I will clean up."
Angelo looked up. "Can you get the glasses, Angelo?" Jarod asked. Angelo hopped down off the counter and fetched the juice glasses as Jarod began filling the sink. "I'll wash and you dry, okay?" Angelo looked at the water and suds rising in the sink. "Unless you'd rather wash," Jarod continued. Angelo stuck a finger into the mound of suds and shook his head. Jarod gave him a towel.
Sydney polished off his breakfast while Grace sipped her coffee. They talked about the prior day's activities and the need to find out about the Centre's response to their raid. From the sink, Jarod joined in the discussion. He would tap in to the Centre's mainframe via satellite uplink, just to be safe. The conversation grew animated, and Jarod moved away from the sink as they talked. Suddenly, Grace began laughing. The two men looked at her curiously. She was looking past them at Angelo, who had picked up a handful of suds and applied them to his head, peaking it like a meringue. "Bed-head," she laughed. Angelo grinned at her.
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