It Could Be Worse
Episode 10: One Last Nutcase Arrives
By Sulia Serafine
[1-22-01. A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.
Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!
E-mail me at silverwLng@aol.com, okay? Thank you and have a nice day.
P.S. I've fixed the PROFILES for EVERYONE. You can now see Kel, Joren (those two are the longest loading. Be patient), Neal, Owen, Cleon, Faleron, Lalasa, and another character whom you will meet in the story.]
~~
"Now, this is nice."
Faleron made a grand sweeping motion of his arms as he beheld Copper City. The sunlight reflected off the shining city. The tall buildings were smooth as glass, but they couldn't possibly be. The opaque walls to shopping centers and art museums gave it a unique appearance. The bright colors were permanently etched into the landscape. Fields of flowers were grown into the sides of schools where students tended to them and the same with other public places. Brand new rails crossed the open sky. Speedy white trams went traveled back and forth on the rails. The air was clean. There was no litter on the ground. There was not even a crack to behold on the concrete sidewalk, which was lined with flowers on the corner of the peaceful street. A person could even hear the birds chirping in their well-kept trees lining the brand new streets.
Cleon looked at his reflection in the side of a building. "This can be one of two things: A) the citizens of Copper, besides being cheated by their local government, take pride in the appearance of their city to keep it clean and sanitary or B) they all like looking at themselves in mirrors a whole lot." And to punctuate his words, he took out a comb from his pocket and began straightening his hair using the building's wall. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me my hair was this wild?"
"It's always been that way," Keladry shrugged. "You just need to comb it more."
"Humph. I need hair gel. That's what I need."
"I wonder what the night life is like around here," Lalasa murmured, thinking of the bright lights of dance clubs. "Guess we wait until later to find out."
"No," Joren said. "We have work to do."
"Oh, yes," she sighed. "How can anyone forget?"
"I really want to go see their shopping centers," Faleron said, although no one paid attention.
Keladry read a digital map on Joren's database. She pointed down one street. "Federal buildings are in that direction. Should we find ourselves a place to stay before we go off playing detective?"
"Yeah, that's sounds like a good idea," Cleon said, pressing his hands over his unruly hair.
"A place with a secure garage," Joren said, eyeing his bike from where it was parked behind the silver hover car.
Faleron pouted. "I said, I'd really like to see the shopping centers. Who knows what valuable merchandise is available."
"Oh! I think I have enough money for all of us to get into a really nice hotel," Lalasa winked. She checked her purse. "Now, just give me a second. Kel, can you look up the hotels around here? In a city like this, there has to be a five-star hotel!" She cocked her head to one side. "Preferably one with a Jacuzzi."
"Is anyone listening?" Faleron cried. He received no response since everyone else was busy doing something. Annoyed, he folded his arms and decided to give them five more minutes before sneaking away.
"No expensive flashy places," Joren told Lalasa.
She pouted. "But why not? Look around you!" She shook her finger at him. Keladry never thought anyone would have the guts to shake their finger at Joren like that, but Lalasa wasn't fazed by his cold attitude at all. "Okay, pal? I have spent the latter of my wretched life in Carthak of all places. This is the complete opposite of Carthak! It's even better than Tortall from what I can tell by pictures!" She put her hands on her hips. "We are staying in a nice hotel."
He regarded her for a moment, then said. "I was not given any orders from Mr. Trebond nor was I paid to allow you to travel with us. Therefore, I'm not putting the rest of the people I am responsible for at risk. You are free to do whatever the hell you want. The rest of us will go find an unnoticeable hotel."
"Argh!" she growled. She grabbed Keladry's arm. "Come on, Kel! You hate him, too, right? Then come with me. We can go stay at this place called the Plaza! Look at that advertisement!" She pointed at the billboard above.
Keladry uneasily took Lalasa's hand from her arm. "I hate to admit it, but he has a point."
"Oh, fine. Let's go." She trudged to the car, swung open the door and slid into the back seat.
~~
They rented three rooms at the Dancing Dove Inn. Keladry and Lalasa roomed in one. Cleon and Faleron stayed in the other while Joren kept to himself in the last single. It was a middle-class place. The furnishings were not brand new, but not old either. There was a lot of polished wood to go along with the city's theme of shiny glassy materials. Others lingered in the lounge, which was connected to the hotel. Both guests and customers were allowed in.
And this was where the motley crew of young men and women sat and ate. Keladry read Copper's newspaper for that day, turning the sheets of printed clear plastic in her hands. She absently sipped some orange juice while reading about the extremely low-crime rate of Copper.
"There's not much to pin in this city. It's immaculate," Cleon said as he twirled a pen in his right hand, almost twirling it like a gun in how he pointed it at Lalasa and started twirling again. She chuckled.
"There's got to be something," Joren mumbled. "Maybe there are no obvious leads. Trebond mentioned things about taxes and manual labor."
Lalasa held her arms up over her head in a melodramatic gesture. "Oh, help me! Help me! I've been laboring too hard in Seventh Heaven!" She lowered her arms and glared at the blonde. "Maybe Uncle Thom is wrong, okay? Maybe this city is untouched by Mithros' corruption and has survived. Its conscience is probably as clear as the glass that encases this damn place."
"Yeah. So clear that I can see right through it," Joren retorted.
Keladry fiddled with the portable database again, pressing buttons rapidly. "It says here that the mayor deals with most of Copper's affairs within his own home. His offices are there and that's where this city's council meets."
"Then, let's pay him a visit," Cleon grinned. "I wonder what his place looks like.
When they were almost at the mayor's mansion, set off on an estate at the very edge of the city surrounded by woods, Cleon had Keladry stop the car. He turned around in the back seat a few times trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture. Joren made a U-turn and drove up beside them. Keladry rolled down the window.
"What's wrong now?"
Cleon slapped his forehead. "Faleron!"
Lalasa gasped. "Oh, where is he?"
"I can't believe we forgot about him!"
Keladry's eyes widened. She leaned toward Cleon and grabbed his sleeve. "No, no. Please say you're kidding me and he's hiding back at the freaking hotel…"
"How did you all manage to ignore him?" Joren burst angrily.
"Well, you did, too!" Lalasa stuck her tongue out. She folded her arms. "I feel so bad now! Fal must be furious at us!"
The redhead leaned back. "I wonder why he didn't speak up."
The four people paled.
~~
"Oh, yes, this is one hell of a city," Faleron said under his breath as he fingered his new wallet. He tipped his new hat to young females that he walked by. They giggled at his gentlemanly appearance and waved back. The leader of the Street Pirates gazed upon the rows upon rows upon levels of stores and shops. The shopping center was huge. Glass store windows, the easiest to break into. Plastic doors, the easiest to open.
He suddenly spied a rack of tools from the corner of his eye. He felt in the bottom of his pants pocket. His lock picking tools and other tiny, high-tech gadgets were in sore need of replacing. Faleron shrugged and walked into the hardware store, being sure to be polite to the storeowner and his beautiful daughter at his side.
"Let's see…" he began to pick up tools that showed some usefulness. Half of it he hid in his vest, the security tag expertly torn off without a sound and thrown into the trash bin across the isle. His version of being polite to any merchant was to only steal half the things and pay for the more expensive half.
"And with my new wallet," he thought, "I can most assuredly pay for it. " He brought his items to the counter. The cashier smiled at him immediately when he saw the more expensive items and then Faleron's rich clothing. Faleron was sure to smile back.
"How will you be paying?" the cashier asked.
Faleron held out his wrist with the wallet's ID code on his faker pager. Then he looked at a credit card and handed it to the cashier. The cashier, a young lady fresh out of school by the looks of it, slid his card through a scanner and handed it back to him. The cash register started to process the information. A green light blinked.
"Thank you for shopping. Have a nice day."
"Oh, I will," Faleron winked and walked out whistling.
~~
Cleon patted his pants pocket. "Aww, man! He stole my wallet again!"
"Cleon!" Keladry scolded.
He suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. "No, wait. It's here. False alarm, everybody. Nothing to worry about!"
"Knowing him, Thief-Boy is having himself a shopping spree," Joren said. "You, Isran. You're a woman. You can navigate a shopping center. Take the redhead and find Faleron."
Lalasa was at first insulted by the 'woman and shopping center' remark, but she thought longer about it and realized she could shop at the same time… which wasn't really that bad. "Okay. Come on, Cleon. Let's go find Fal."
"Wait! Keladry, can we have bus fair?" He leaned his head over her shoulder. Keladry undid her seat belt so she could reach her own money. She handed him a few coins. "Five Nobles and a few coppers. That's all you're getting from me."
"Thanks, Tough Stuff!" he called and got out of the car with Lalasa.
"Stop calling me that!" Keladry shouted after him. She turned to Joren. "So, are we still going to the Mayor's place?"
He nodded and started fiddling with the navigation screen on his bike. "Yeah. We can join one of the tourist groups."
She started laughing. "They have tourist groups?"
"Yeah. So let's go." He put on his helmet and rode off. Keladry growled when he was disappearing from sight. She turned the ignition and drove after him once again trying to keep up.
~~
Roald Jasson hated his life. He hated it with a passion. For the last six weeks, his parents had sent him to live with Mayor Douglass Veldine of Copper City to learn the ways of successful political figures. Well, mayor was hardly anything worth recognizing, but after the last month was over, Roald was to be shipped off to live with a governor, then a senator, then-- well, you got the idea. His father was the Vice President of Mithros. Politics ran in the family.
"I just had to be an only child," he muttered while fixing his tie. He had coal black hair and deep sapphire blue eyes. All his parents' friends and colleagues used to compliment him on his looks. Roald was also tall and lithe. And he always wore a serious expression. His parents' expectations of him were far too burdening. He was surprised he'd kept his sanity for so long.
He could remember every single thing they said before he left.
"But, Roald Darling," his mother said. "You have the makings of a natural born leader. Look at that handsome face! Those serious eyes! Your head is always high and proud, and you move stately as any respectable patrician would."
"Yes, yes," his father had said while puffing away on his pipe. "He'll become a great man one day. Maybe even take over my job, eh?" And he laughed heartily.
His mother cupped his face, turning it this way and that way to check him. "Relax, Roald. You're going to have a fine time in Copper City. You know we can't take you out of the country with us."
Roald nodded. "I know. I hope you have a nice time, Mother."
She pinched his cheeks. "Aww, such a thoughtful boy. I'll call you once a week, yes?"
He nodded some more-- anything to get them away. His father took a few more casual puffs on the pipe before putting it down and clapping him on the shoulder. Roald's father was a heavy boned man with a strong jaw and a thick black beard. He always told Roald every single thing that he expected his son to do: have a political career, gain as much fame as he, and carry on the family legacy.
His mother, a petite woman with a pointy nose and enthusiastic eyes, told Roald every menial task he had to perform, instead of career move. This included what he should wear, eat, who he should talk to, who he should marry. He would always care for his mother, but she was basically a control freak.
And Roald had had about enough. For some reason that day, he couldn't fix his tie. So, he took it off from where it was around his neck and stuffed it in his pocket. At the time, Roald was in the men's room in the main hall of Mayor Veldine's mansion. He braced his hands on each side of the pearly white sink and leaned toward the mirror.
"Natural born leader?" he asked his reflection. "You don't like to talk in front of large groups, you'd rather curl up with a fantastical book, and you abhor politics. I may look like a leader, but there's no way in the world I will ever become one." He shook his head and started to exit the restroom. "I can't live like this! I have to… to run away or something."
He froze at the door. "That's a ridiculous idea. How in the world would I ever go about running away? Withdraw all my money, get a car, and just drive away? I need something to cover my tracks." He also considered his mother's smiling face. "She annoys me. Any mother annoys her son at some point in their lives, I suppose." He sighed. "I don't want her to be angry with me. It's selfish. Maybe if I leave a note for her, she won't be too mad."
Roald absently toyed with his shirt collar. Was it hot in there? "This is stupid. I can't run away. I'm too chicken to do it."
He shouldered his way through the door--
--And slammed into a young woman with light brown hair. They went crashing to the ground.
"Oh great," Roald thought as he pushed himself up on his hands. "I bumped into the tourists again." He got up on his feet and held out a hand to the young woman. She took it and pulled herself up. Surprisingly, she was his exact height. "I sincerely apologize for that. I should not have gone through the door like that. You didn't even have time to move out of the way."
"It's okay," she said with a weak smile. Another young man with straight blond-- the palest blond he'd ever seen-- hair to the bottom of his ears waited impatiently for her. The tour group was going on without them. She turned back to him. "I have to go."
"So sorry again, " he called.
"Don't worry about it!" She joined her male companion and they jogged to catch up with the rest of the photo-taking sightseers. Roald watched them until they disappeared from sight. Then he headed to his room upstairs.
~~
"Watch where you're going," Joren hissed when they finally made it to the back of their tourist group.
"He's the one who bumped into me!" she hissed right back.
"Whatever."
They listened to the tour guide point out the rooms and kept track of their route. They also asked a few questions about the structure of the mansion. But so not to look suspicious, Keladry and Joren made sure the questions were mostly innocent. They could draw their own conclusions based on other things they observed.
Joren nudged her. "Restricted offices. DJPF can't access them."
"Offices," she repeated. "All those doors?"
"We'll arrive early."
"One in the morning?"
"One thirty."
She sighed. "I'm never going to get any sleep."
The tour continued on for another half-hour. The two officers kept track of the number of guards that lingered around as well as the different doors with different security keypads. The structure of the mansion was relatively easy. On both floors there was a central room. They were the largest in width and length. Surrounding both on each floor were a series of rooms that formed a grid around it.
Keladry watched one of the tourists, a man with dark brown hair in a crown about his balding head, snap a few more shots of the dining room. She wished she had thought of that. Pictures would be so easy to study. "Or maybe if Faleron was here, he could steal the cam--" she stopped her train of thought and chided herself. "It's bad enough we're breaking in to dig through the offices. No one has to steal."
They departed the mansion. Out on the main drive, a sleek white bus was waiting for them. The driver was busy wiping the front of it while smiling from ear to ear. If she had a job like that, she would probably die from the pain in her cheeks and jaws from smiling. The group of tourists boarded the bus and took their seats. Naturally, the two officers sat in the back.
Joren reached into his pocket and brought out a clear, thin plastic sheet. It was another map that he picked up from the mayor's house. Keladry nearly choked. "Hey! Where did you get that?"
"It was behind the podium in the conference room."
She narrowed her eyes. The man had a map in the palm of his hand and decided to show it to her after they left the Mayor's residence? "So we memorized the layout to the mansion for nothing?"
He slowly shook his head. "Something might happen to the map."
"Right."
Now it was his turn to glare at her. "Mindelan."
She blinked. He was always glaring at her no matter what she did. "What did I do now?"
"Your pager?"
She flinched. "I really have to keep the sound turned on," she thought and answered it. Then she smiled to herself. Joren looked at her skeptically. "They found Faleron cheating an ice cream vendor."
"Ice cream?"
"With sprinkles," she stifled a laugh threatening to burst out.
~~
"Hey! Stop that, you're wrinkling the shirt! It's not enough that there's a vanilla-strawberry stain on my pants, is it?" Faleron yanked Cleon's hand away from where he had been gripping the dark haired young man by the sleeve. He brushed himself off. "I think you should know I actually paid for this. A gentlemen pursuing a leading career should always be dressed like a rich man."
"Which you are not," Lalasa chuckled. "I don't even want to know where you got the money."
Cleon snorted. "Stolen, of course."
Faleron flicked him in the back of his head with his index finger. The redhead rubbed at the spot and glared at the thief. The glare was returned. Soon they stopped where they were on the moving walk to stare each other down. Lalasa parted the two men with raised hands. "Boys! Boys, calm down. Goodness, you two can be like children sometimes!" She tossed her hair over her shoulder and moved past them. "And while you're at it, Faleron, return Cleon's wallet."
"What!"
"Hey! This time you really dropped it! It was when you were wrestling me away from the ice cream vendor, remember?"
"Right…"
Cleon heard his pager beep. He checked his wrist. "Hey guys," he motioned for them to come over. "Keladry received our message. She says for us to go back to the hotel and pack up our stuff."
"We paid for the whole night!" Lalasa protested. She clutched her black leather purse. "Don't tell me I wasted my money!"
He shook his head. "There's more coming." He paused. "She says that by midnight, we should be out the city limits on the highway headed to the coast. And they want us to bring most of their stuff with them and leave what they'll need to… to break in."
Faleron grabbed his wrist and looked at the pager. "What? They don't know the first thing about breaking into places! I'm staying!"
The female Carthakian struck him on the shoulder. "Don't talk so loud!"
They stepped off the moving walkway and out the revolving doors of the shopping center. They walked down the steps and waited at a bus stop on a metal bench. Cleon sat down and stared at his pager. "Why would they break in?"
Lalasa tapped the tip of his nose. "Because the offices aren't open to the DJPF. Government regulations, Honey."
"I never heard of that," he wrinkled his nose.
"It's only effective in this city," she explained and sat down. Faleron sat on his other side.
He lowered his wrist. "Well how do you know?"
"I actually read newspapers," she said in a stage whisper. "Now! Let's just go back to the Dancing Dove."
Faleron tapped his foot. "Why can't I join them?"
She let out a deep breath. "You want to?"
He rolled his eyes and stood up. He shook his fists in the air. "They're not experts at this! I am!" Cleon yanked him down again. "Okay, okay! I'll be quiet." He sat down again. "They're DJPF. How would they know how to conduct a break in?" Then his eyes widened and he leaned back. His face was slightly paler. "Never mind. They can do it."
Lalasa frowned. "What?"
Cleon leaned toward her ear and whispered. "Joren."
"Oh…"
~~
At eight o'clock, Keladry and Joren reached the Dancing Dove again. The others were gone and signed out, leaving Joren's sole room with both their bags there. Exhausted from their trek all over the city, Keladry threw the shopping bags down on the single bed and started to stretch out her forearms.
"I don't see why we had to buy all that illegal ammunition and equipment." She scratched the back of her head. The female first class officer recalled the pot-bellied arms dealer showing them his secret selection of bullets and energy sources. Even though they weren't working for the DJPF, they still had to follow laws. "Irony. What's the point of using bad things for the greater good? " Aloud, she said, "What about your bike?"
He poked his head out of the bathroom where he was setting up something she couldn't see. "It's in the garage. I'll drive it out to the resting station in advance. It's not a long drive. And then I'll take a rental car back and we'll use that to get to the Mayor's."
She nodded. Three hours to go.
~~
Midnight:
Roald double-checked everything. He had spent the last two hours cramming his whole entire life into one backpack. There went a spare change of clothing and underwear. Then the necessary hygiene tools. Then the various versions of money (cash, credit, check) and food that would last a long time. He had no idea where he was going to go, but that was something he needed to worry about later.
"I can't do this," he whispered. It was dark in his room with only the moonlight through his window to light his face. He pressed his forehead to the glass and looked down. He had a perfect view of the front lawn that stretched out for half a football field and then the long drive leading to the main entrance.
Mayor Veldine and his wife were most likely asleep. And the rest of boarding staff members had closed up the offices and gone to bed hours ago. The only men up would be the security. Roald had a vague idea of how to get past them.
"Key card," he remembered and searched his pockets. There it was-- the piece of white plastic that was going to open the gates to freedom, literally.
~~
The clouds passed over the moon. The trees cast long shadows over the dewy lawn as the two dark figures traipsed along a path through the woods surrounding the property. They stopped outside the black iron fence with pointed spire-like points at intervals. One of them reached into a black bag and pulled out a long metal clamp connected to a box in the bag. Then, this person clipped it onto one of the iron bars with a point on top. The other person took another metal clamp connected to the box and attached it to the next iron bar with a point. Then the first flipped a switch on the box.
If a person had looked out the window from the mansion facing the West, he or she would have seen a bright spark flash within a half-second. The dismantling of electrical sensors in the fence was complete. The first one took the clamps off, stuffed them back into the black bag, and slung it over their shoulder. Then the two climbed the fence in that spot, careful not to make one noise.
"This way," one of them mouthed and led the two toward the servants' entrance on the side of the mansion. The second of the two started for the door, but the first grabbed the other's arm and dragged them to the bushes. A light from the security systems' outdoors camera passed over the spot where they had been.
Instead of using the door, they scaled up the side of the mansion with caution. Upon reaching the second floor, the leader of the two reached into the their bag once more and drew out a keypad. It was positioned in the corner of the window. Numbers flashed across the screen. The numbers were entered in, and a nearly inaudible click was heard within when the digital window locks were undone. To break the glass was certain failure. Sensors covered the glass during the night. If it was broken, the alarm went off.
They carefully slid the window up. One held it for the other as they entered, careful to leave no footprints on the tan carpet of the hallway. Before they went any further, they stopped again to reach up and fiddle with the security cameras.
"Do you know how to rig them to display a continuous image?" Joren inquired with a hoarse whisper.
"No. They didn't really teach this at the academy," she sarcastically replied.
He beckoned for her to come closer and look to where he was holding the camera. "Hand me the second to smallest screwdriver you have."
Keladry did as she was told and obediently gave it to him. He proceeded to undo the casing on the camera and rewire it. She paid special attention to what he messed with and when he did it. She locked away the information in the back of her mind and followed him down the hall. "What about the other cameras?"
He stopped and turned around again. Joren returned back to the camera he rigged and attached a remote looking gadget to it. Then he returned to her side and they proceeded it. "That sends the same malfunctions to every camera."
She growled. "You know how to break into a top notch security location and where to get the equipment to do so. This is absolutely unbelievable. What kind of officer are you?"
"I'm not an officer. I'm a special operative," he replied coldly. "Stop talking, Mindelan. Let's go."
They headed to the stairwell to reach the offices below.
~~
Faleron paced back and forth. The other two watched him from where they sat on the hood of the car.
"Calm down, Fal. What could go wrong?" Lalasa shrugged.
He clutched the sides of his head. "Everything! They don't know about the automatic repair system that came out this last year. If a glitch is intentionally introduced to the system without re-installment of the whole program so that every similar machine functions in similar ways, it rights itself in a span of fifteen to twenty minutes!"
Cleon blinked. "And that means…"
"It's the most common way to deal with visual security," Faleron groaned. "And if he… he… Oh, God! They're done for!"
~~
"Did you find it?" Keladry asked over his shoulder.
"Yeah. Everything we need. Here are the tax records before… and there they are after."
"That's a big difference," she murmured in disbelief.
He nodded. "Make a copy onto disk. I'm going to check on the cameras." He tapped his chin. "I heard about some new automatic repair system. I better uninstall everything as we leave."
Keladry quickly made the copy of the records and tucked it into her belt. She shut down the computer and tiptoed after her partner into the hall. They locked the door again and stealthily made their way down the hall again. Everything was fine. The cameras were still running continuous images from where they were stationed. They could escape from where they came. Every time a guard passed by, they ducked behind a corner. It was a great advantage to have all the halls meet each other as a grid.
"Something's wrong," she whispered to him.
"What? Did you leave something behind?" he said. They were a few doors and hall crossways from their exit. She pointed to a door down an adjacent hall.
"Did you open that?"
"No," he replied. He stepped forward to investigate it, but decided better. "Forget about it. Pull your mask on again. Let's go."
They exited through the door and relocked it. Then they climbed down the side of the wall, dropping into the bushes just as the light passed over the side of the mansion. Then they ran as fast and silently as they could to the iron fence.
~~
Meanwhile, Roald was home free. He had used the gardener's gate at the iron fence to get into the woods. His key card was good for almost anything, save for three offices and the Mayor's personal chambers. He pulled up the neck of his dark blue sweatshirt and started to regret leaving his hat behind. At least he was comfortable with the rest of his civilian clothes.
"No tie," he happily said and flung the clothing ornament away from him. Then he looked down at his Cavall University blazer. He threw it onto the ground and stomped on it with his hiking boots. That day, Roald Jasson was a free man. He was going to choose his own future and live his own life. He walked through the dark woods, a flashlight in hand, and a triumphant smile on his face.
Half an hour passed, and he reached the end of the woods, where the highway was. Amazingly, a shabby rental car was parked in the ditch. He would have missed it if he hadn't been standing right in front of it. The clouds still covered the moon and the car was black. He popped the trunk. It wasn't locked. Unfortunately, there was nothing inside.
"Hey! Over here," he heard a voice say in the woods.
"Oh, no," he muttered. "They can't know I'm gone already!" Without another thought, he threw himself in the trunk and closed it after him.
Keladry and Joren emerged from the woods.
"I hope the cameras didn't fail," Keladry said as she groped for the door handle. "Do you have the keys?"
"Yeah," he answered and unlocked the doors. "And we don't know crap about the cameras. What's the use of worrying?"
"I'm an insecure person," she said silently and got in. They drove off toward the resting station three miles down the road. It took ten minutes in the rental car. Roald was still in the trunk. He wasn't suffocating. The rental car, though fast, was old, and there was a whole somewhere in the corner that gave him enough air. He curled up near it and squirmed around for a better position.
"Who are these people?" he wondered. "Oh, well. Hopefully, I can sneak out when they stop next."
Somewhere along the way to the rendevous point, Joren hit a bump in the road.
"Hey! Watch it! You hit that one too hard."
"Whatever."
Roald, unfortunately, struck his head on the bottom of the trunk very hard and blacked out. Keladry turned around in her seat and looked behind her. "Did you hear something?"
"No. Now shut up. We're almost there."
Suddenly, DJPF squad cars appeared behind them. They flashed their lights and set off their siren. Joren cursed. "Shit! How the hell did they find us? How did they know?"
"By Glory," Keladry gasped. "Hurry! Speed up! Can you lose them?"
"Yeah, I think," he said. He shifted gears. "Damn it, the cameras must have failed!"
"STOP!" a man called through a megaphone from the first squad car. Keladry could see him lean his head out the window. "STOP, KIDNAPPERS! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH ROALD JASSON?"
"Roald Jasson?!"
Joren scowled. "What the hell! We didn't kidnap Roald Jasson! Bullshit!"
Keladry looked behind her. She let out a low moan. "Oh, no. The trunk… I told you I heard something!"
"STOP! DO NOT HARM THE HOSTAGE OR ELSE YOU WILL BE ARRESTED AND PERSECUTED FOR--"
"Oh, shut up!" Joren yelled at the top of his lungs.
Keladry covered her face with her hands. They were shining lights through the car windows. Joren increased the speed. They could make it to the off ramp and lead the local DJPF of Copper away from the resting station. "Where does that name sound familiar? Roald Jasson?"
"Vice President's son," Joren answered. "Damn it, who cares? We have to lose them!"
He took a sharp turn onto the off ramp leading off the interstate. He could see the resting station in the distance, but did a U-turn and passed under the bridge and sped off into the wood trails. The squad cars fought to keep up, but Joren had picked the car well and soon left them in the dust. Forty minutes later, they got out from the woods and drove slowly back to the resting station.
"Almost out of fuel," Keladry commented as she listened to the car struggling to make it.
"No, really?" Joren rolled his eyes.
As they pulled into the back parking lot of the resting station, they spied where Joren's bike and the silver hover car were parked. They pulled up next to it. Keladry, exhausted, got out and leaned on the side of the car. Fully knowing that a person was in the trunk, she said wryly, "Do you have any money for fuel?"
"No," he replied. "We have to dump the car anyway. They've chased us in it and probably have the license plate."
She stared at him for the longest time with a mixture of irritation and anger. She finally stomped her feet and pointed at the trunk. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, Stone, but we have the son of the Vice President IN OUR TRUNK!"
At the scream, Cleon, Lalasa, and Faleron ran out from the all-night diner they had been waiting in. They immediately saw what wrecks the two officers looked like. Faleron ran up to Keladry and grabbed her shoulder.
"You forgot about the cameras, didn't you? Didn't you?" he asked in a panicked voice.
"Thief-boy, back off. The cameras were pieces of shit anyway," Joren scowled and popped the trunk. He raised one eyebrow at the sight of the unconscious young man.
Lalasa gasped and ran up behind him. "Is he… is he dead?"
"No way!" Cleon slapped his thighs. "A dead body? Really?"
She elbowed him hard. He rubbed his midsection where she had connected and took a step back. "Idiot," she said and reached forward to check Roald's pulse. "Oh, thank God! He's okay!" She looked up at Joren. "Who is he?"
Keladry rubbed her temples. "Roald Jasson, son of the Vice President."
The three gasped practically in unison. Joren rolled his eyes and moved away from the trunk. Lalasa glared at him and motioned for Cleon and Faleron to help Roald out. "Wake up! Please, wake up?"
The blue-eyed stowaway groaned as he drifted into consciousness. He blinked a couple of times before squinting up at the three. They lifted him under the arms and hauled him out of the car.
"There you go, Mr. Jasson," Faleron said and patted him on the back.
"I can't believe you kidnapped him!" Lalasa reproached Joren, while Keladry leaned against the silver hover car clutching her head still. He glared at her.
"We didn't kidnap him! He hid in the trunk!"
"You kidnapped him!" Lalasa exclaimed. "No one intentionally locks themselves in a trunk and knocks themselves out! I always knew you were cruel, Joren Stone, but this--"
Roald shook his head clear and started to support himself. "They didn't do anything. I kidnapped myself."
Cleon's eyes widened. "Really?" He grinned. "That's so cool! So, what? Are you going to hold yourself for ransom? Hey! You can get your own parents to come home and pay to have you back! That's so awesome!"
"He ran away, you dolt," Joren smacked him in the back of the head. Cleon pouted.
"Well, it could happen."
Joren studied the politician's son. "He has food and clothing in that bag, I'm assuming. He'll be fine. Let's get out of here before the DJPF come to do a sweep search over this area."
"Wait! Please, take me with you," Roald begged. "I can't be caught by them. I can't stand it here! I'll go crazy if I stay!"
"Let's have him come with us," Lalasa nodded. Roald was very attractive, and he had that fresh innocent face that was very rare in people his age. "We can't just leave him here, Stone."
Joren didn't reply at first. Then he started toward the restroom. "Whatever. We leave within the next ten minutes. Buy your food and get in the car."
Roald grinned. "Thanks a lot."
"Oh, it's nothing," Lalasa replied, taking his arm. "Now, you just sit yourself in the back with the rest of the guys and rest. The Vice President's handsome, noble son running away. Hmm… And now joining us on our quest to find the truth about the government. I bet you could help us."
Roald blushed. She was flattering him. "I don't know what you guys are doing."
"I'll tell you in the car," she replied and patted his arm. Then she let go and opened the passenger side door. Joren came back. He put on his helmet, stretched out his arms over his head, then got on his bike. Keladry drove and Lalasa sat in shotgun while the three males sat in the back.
"If I had come along, this wouldn't have happened," Faleron muttered.
"Aww, it's not so bad, Ice cream Pants," Cleon shrugged.
"First Thief-Boy, then Ice cream Pants? Why can't you people leave me alone with the names? It's so undignified," Faleron huffed. He leaned toward the window to his left. "Not to mention the seating is cramped."
"Just be glad I don't feel like reaching across Roald here to get you," Cleon stuck his tongue out. He whispered to the unlucky young man in the middle. "Be careful he doesn't steal your wallet."
"What did you say?" Faleron demanded.
"I didn't say anything."
"Uh…" Roald stammered.
"SHUT UP!" Keladry yelled. "I am on my last nerve here, guys!"
And then, there was blessed silence.
~~
Author: Whoa… that was long. I guess it makes up for the last couple of days, huh? Anyway, I have a school project that requires attention and a grade to raise (why the hell am I of all people getting a B- in English? ENGLISH!).
Closing Credits:
Special thanks to those who helped me with descriptions:
( Note: these people are VERY cool. Do not mess with them.)
Kestrel
Erin (Hyper Girl to the Rescue)
Sullychkk (Whose name is Caitie…)
And also to the people who volunteered to help with my web page:
FireLily
Jaelawyn Noble
And if anyone is good with fixing web pages, please e-mail me. My e-mail is listed at top.
And the NEWLY FIXED profiles for ICBW:
http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futurekel.html
http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futurejoren.html
http://www.geocitiescom/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futureneal.html
http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futureowen.html
http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futurecleon.html
http://www.geocites.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futurefaleron.html
and the two brand new profiles…
http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futurelalasa.html
http://www.geocities.com/silvrblade.geo/silverdragon/fanfics/futureroald.html
Thanks for all the comments on the music and the drawings for Kel and Joren. I have a really nice surprise for you guys, but I won't be done for quite a while. Wish me luck!