ttw3

Thicker than Water
three


I woke up in the arms of a quilt, laying on a bed I didn't know in a room I'd never seen. My captor was nowhere in sight, and I instinctively got up to investigate. I stepped out of the bedroom I had apparently been placed in during the early morning. As soon as I was in the living room, I saw a typed letter on the coffee table. After quickly reading over it, I stared through the wide, sliding glass doors a few feet away and saw nothing but a bushy green line of mountain range on the horizon. Harlequin briefed me about the kidnapping in the uniform text, how it would eventually turn out to be for the best; how I would stay in the cabin until someone, perhaps he himself, would come to check on me. There was a block on the roads, and he had secured--as I saw immediately--a small tracking band onto my ankle. Now I really felt like a prisoner.

We had traveled from Europe to the United States over the night, and I hadn't been awake through any part of the journey. Currently held hostage by some strange man in a mask, trapped in a cabin in the boonies of Tennessee without a guard. Was it some kind of deranged trick he was playing? The doors, simply enough opened, were the only thing keeping me inside. Harlequin was either playing dumb, or trying to use a sort of reverse psychology to scare me out of my wits. Neither of which was going to keep me from trying to free myself. There was absolutely no reason for me to be held down, and I knew that there was a slim to none chance that I would be rescued any time soon.

No one would be expecting me back at the ESUN until the end of the month, and I'd ordered my subordinates to leave me alone. I was stuck there, alone, with a limited amount of leeway with my keeper, Harlequin.

___

I don't know, Noin tapped her fingers on the desk in front of her. I think we need to check on her anyway. Just to make sure. Chase hasn't reported in, and he's already a day late on his reports. Based on the recent outbreak we've been faced with, I don't like the delay.

Sally flipped a felt tip pen between her fingers and bit her lip. Let's go ahead and send someone out to check on the premises.

Noin continued to tap out a precussion anxiously.

Sally turned in her swivel chair and called him into the office. I want you to go out to Vice Minister Darlian's mansion and make sure everything's all right.

He had just barely peeked into the room before nodding and heading off to his duty. His face was stoic and resolute as he filed into the elevator, pulling on his Preventer jacket. Protect the vice minister, he snorted lightly, I think that's the reason why she doesn't stay in one place for too long. She's always being bothered.

___

Harlequin sat at a bar, cascaded by shadows, with small flecks of light from surrounding decanters and mugs bouncing off of his sunglasses. One barstool down from him sat another man, hiding from spying eyes. They didn't look at each other, but Harlequin slid something down the bar to the man, who accepted it and got up. He left just as abruptly as he'd shown up, and left Harlequin, unmasked, in the bar to dwell over his decisions, staring down to the bottom of his drink.

All I do now is make sure she doesn't get angry, he muttered, so that she wont cause herself to get into any more danger.

___

Relena sat on the couch, flipping through the channels nervously, her hair still wet from the shower she'd taken earlier. Only her third hour in her cage and she was ticking with aggravation. A long, powerful speech was taking place in her mind, and she was well prepared to give it to Harlequin as soon as he showed his masked face.

I just wish that the people would learn, she said, dropping the remote by her leg, this isn't going to get us anywhere.

There was a chiming clock down the hallway that started to sing, and Relena got up to find something to aid the grumbling in her stomach. In the impending white Frigidaire, there was nothing but a box of French Vanilla Slim Fast, a bag of fresh sandwich meat, and a couple packs of yogurt. She scratched her left arm and picked at the plastic band on her foot while searching. Throughout the rest of the kitchen she found canned fruits, bread, a bag of chips, and frozen goods in the freezer.

Relena began to feel too weak in the knees to stand and cook something, but too picky to eat just anything. Usually, she'd had a sandwich, but it wasn't as appealing now, strangely. There wasn't much else she could do about the shortage of myriad choices. An angry demon was in her gut, picking away with his pitchfort, inciting an ill temper. Instead of moaning and griping about the small choice of food, regardless, Relena snagged a can of the Slim Fast to curb her hunger and keep from passing out. She hadn't eaten a thing yesterday, spending the daylight hours sitting in the Stingray with the masked man.

She read the top of the can, Shake well, keep very cold. She did so, then tossed it from one hand to the other, listening to the insides sputter and splash. It took a minimal bit of effort to wedge the pop top up, but there wasn't any carbonation to spray her in the face either. A sniff of the liquid, seemingly something like that of vanilla coffee creamers, and she took a small sip. The flavor was kind of chalky, but pleasing. It stuck in the back of her throat, turning into a coagulated blob of nutrients. Not so much nasty as it was annoying.

There wasn't a bloody thing to do in the house, other than watch television or wrack the kitchen for food. Upon closer inspection, she found a hidden entry to the basement, but didn't venture down to see what lay beyond the light cast from the overhead bulb. In the other bedroom, high in the closet, there was what appeared to be a broken videophone, and a guitar case hidden behind a few heavy winter coats. She didn't bother to take interest, but instead found a large photo album beneath the bed, fringed by a lacy skirt and quilted coverlets.

She ran her fingers over the top of the dusty memory book and carried it into the living room. In gilded, muted gold letters, Peacecraft, was scrawled in fine calligraphy. Relena's lungs filled with air when she noticed this, and the Slim Fast in her hand seemed a few pounds heavier than before.

To be continued...