Jet sighed, as he led Corbin through the hangar. Past the Hammerhead, its once weathered sides now covered in a coat of fresh paint, he had spent some time fixing it up after he retired, past a sea of ship parts they walked, to an object on the other side of the hangar, and object that had sat almost untouched under a tarp for three years. Jet had worked on it, when he and Faye first recovered it, but after a while, he found it too painful to look at, so he'd covered it, buried it... buried him. In one sweeping motion, he pulled the tarp off, uncovering the Swordfish II.
His eyes flicked involuntarily to Corbin's face, gauging his reaction, testing him. He was not disappointed, as something not quite identifiable, but resembling recognition, registered in this strange man's eyes. But it was gone a moment later, replaced by a look that was definitely confusion.
"This ship will take you to the roof," Jet said, averting his eyes, "can you fly it?"
"I'll manage," Corbin answered him, with a grin.
Jet sighed and stared back down to the other end of the hangar, looking longingly at his newly painted Hammerhead. He'd spent hours, pounding out dents, sanding out rust, buffing, painting, waxing. He'd overhauled the engine, changed out the stereo system, re-did the upholstery... and now he was getting ready to sacrifice his old friend... for a diversion.
He was going to drive it right through the ridiculous windows of the bottom floor of Lansing-Medcalf.
"Not for anyone else," he muttered, and headed over to his ship. Things were about to start happening.
Corbin watched as jet walked to the other side of the hangar. He waited until the man was standing before his own ship before he turned back to the Swordfish II. He cocked his head to one side, giving the converted racer a once-over.
"Hmm..." he muttered, as he walked over to the side of the craft, and opened the hatch. He tried to shake the growing sense of familiarity that assaulted him as he sank himself deep into the cushioned driver's seat. He tried to dismiss it, the nagging feeling of déjà vu, but it wouldn't let up, it wouldn't relent, it tortured him, pulled him apart. This had happened before, but never like now, never like when he was at the controls of this ship.
He smirked, pushing the emotion to the background, and started the engine. He sat, eyes closed, listening to the growl of the Swordfish II warming up, for a few seconds, before following Jet out of the hangar. He was ready.
"Jet," Ed hissed.
She'd been infiltrating the computers that controlled the rooftop lasers, her fingers flying over the keys like a Bach composing a symphony, a beautiful, electronic symphony. She was mere moments away from breaching the systems defenses, when she picked it up.
Ed may have been engaged, but she never could just focus on one thing at a time.
Someone had just sent an electronic signal, from inside Lansing-Medcalf, activating the remote mode that Ed herself had helped Faye install on the Shadow Wolf.
"Jet!" she snapped, "There's been a new development."
"What do you mean, 'new development?'" he asked.
"Someone's just engaged the remote mode on Faye's ship, it appears to be headed for the roof of the building. Jet, there's no way to confirm that it was Faye, and if it wasn't, well, it might make it a little difficult for our new associate to land, and slip in unnoticed."
Jet digested this, then, "So we're going to have to abort?"
"That depends on if you want to see the light of another day."
Mostly, Jet was disappointed to hear this. He hated the thought of Faye trapped behind that endless sea of windows. She had once said that she was a romanie, a gypsy; that she couldn't stay in the same place for too long. She had said that she needed to travel the universe, searching for love... Jet knew she wasn't a gypsy, but there was a core of truth in the lies. She hated to be contained.
Yes, mostly Jet hated the thought of aborting, but a little piece of him, a very little piece, was glad that the Hammerhead was going to stay in one piece.
The walk from her hallway to the elevator seemed to take an eternity. Miles and miles of blue-gray granite tiles as far as the eye could see. And all the while, the repeated word, 'traitor, traitor, traitor...' in her head, kept rhythm with the tap-tap-tap of her boots on the tiled floor.
"I'm glad you've finally decided to see reason, it would have been a shame to have to kill such a lovely woman." Dimitri was saying.
But all Faye heard was 'traitor, traitor, traitor..." with the beat of her heart.
How could she? How could she agree to help Dimitri recover this man? How could she betray Spike that way?
Spike? How could she betray Spike? This wasn't Spike, she reminded herself angrily, and even if it was... well, what loyalty did she owe him? He hadn't been much more than an annoyance to her since the moment they met. No, he hadn't been an annoyance, he had been worse than that, an annoyance wounldn't have made her hurt this bad. She had loved him... had been in love with him... and he had been in love with Julia. He'd broken her heart.
He was still breaking her heart. Even as she tried to rationalize her decision, she knew that it didn't matter, and it was killing her.
But she couldn't sacrifice a living man for a dead one; she couldn't let them harm John, just because she still had feelings for a corpse. It wasn't about making the right choice; it had been her only choice.
'traitor, traitor, traitor...'
The pair came to a stop in front of the elevator, and Dimitri sidestepped, gesturing for Faye to enter first.
She blinked twice, seeming a little puzzled, and obviously distracted, before she entered the steel box. She turned to face the doors as Dimitri slipped in next to her.
"You've been very quiet." He stated.
"I'm very angry." She replied... and very upset.
Dimitri smiled, knowingly, "don't worry, my dear, if you deliver Corbin to me, I'll release your 'darling John.' I have every faith that you'll do the right thing."
"I'm sure you do."
Their conversation was cut short, as the doors slid open. They made their way out onto the empty, tar-covered rooftop, just as her ship was landing.
"What excellent timing... well, I suppose you'll want to be on your way."
"I wouldn't spend any more time in your presence than I absolutely had to," Faye hissed between gritted teeth.
"Hmm..." was all Dimitri said, but his eyes flickered in anger.
Faye turned from him, and went to her ship, extending the plank. Right before the door slid shut, she turned back to him, and blew him a kiss. "When I see you again, it'll be the last time."
His eyes flicked involuntarily to Corbin's face, gauging his reaction, testing him. He was not disappointed, as something not quite identifiable, but resembling recognition, registered in this strange man's eyes. But it was gone a moment later, replaced by a look that was definitely confusion.
"This ship will take you to the roof," Jet said, averting his eyes, "can you fly it?"
"I'll manage," Corbin answered him, with a grin.
Jet sighed and stared back down to the other end of the hangar, looking longingly at his newly painted Hammerhead. He'd spent hours, pounding out dents, sanding out rust, buffing, painting, waxing. He'd overhauled the engine, changed out the stereo system, re-did the upholstery... and now he was getting ready to sacrifice his old friend... for a diversion.
He was going to drive it right through the ridiculous windows of the bottom floor of Lansing-Medcalf.
"Not for anyone else," he muttered, and headed over to his ship. Things were about to start happening.
Corbin watched as jet walked to the other side of the hangar. He waited until the man was standing before his own ship before he turned back to the Swordfish II. He cocked his head to one side, giving the converted racer a once-over.
"Hmm..." he muttered, as he walked over to the side of the craft, and opened the hatch. He tried to shake the growing sense of familiarity that assaulted him as he sank himself deep into the cushioned driver's seat. He tried to dismiss it, the nagging feeling of déjà vu, but it wouldn't let up, it wouldn't relent, it tortured him, pulled him apart. This had happened before, but never like now, never like when he was at the controls of this ship.
He smirked, pushing the emotion to the background, and started the engine. He sat, eyes closed, listening to the growl of the Swordfish II warming up, for a few seconds, before following Jet out of the hangar. He was ready.
"Jet," Ed hissed.
She'd been infiltrating the computers that controlled the rooftop lasers, her fingers flying over the keys like a Bach composing a symphony, a beautiful, electronic symphony. She was mere moments away from breaching the systems defenses, when she picked it up.
Ed may have been engaged, but she never could just focus on one thing at a time.
Someone had just sent an electronic signal, from inside Lansing-Medcalf, activating the remote mode that Ed herself had helped Faye install on the Shadow Wolf.
"Jet!" she snapped, "There's been a new development."
"What do you mean, 'new development?'" he asked.
"Someone's just engaged the remote mode on Faye's ship, it appears to be headed for the roof of the building. Jet, there's no way to confirm that it was Faye, and if it wasn't, well, it might make it a little difficult for our new associate to land, and slip in unnoticed."
Jet digested this, then, "So we're going to have to abort?"
"That depends on if you want to see the light of another day."
Mostly, Jet was disappointed to hear this. He hated the thought of Faye trapped behind that endless sea of windows. She had once said that she was a romanie, a gypsy; that she couldn't stay in the same place for too long. She had said that she needed to travel the universe, searching for love... Jet knew she wasn't a gypsy, but there was a core of truth in the lies. She hated to be contained.
Yes, mostly Jet hated the thought of aborting, but a little piece of him, a very little piece, was glad that the Hammerhead was going to stay in one piece.
The walk from her hallway to the elevator seemed to take an eternity. Miles and miles of blue-gray granite tiles as far as the eye could see. And all the while, the repeated word, 'traitor, traitor, traitor...' in her head, kept rhythm with the tap-tap-tap of her boots on the tiled floor.
"I'm glad you've finally decided to see reason, it would have been a shame to have to kill such a lovely woman." Dimitri was saying.
But all Faye heard was 'traitor, traitor, traitor..." with the beat of her heart.
How could she? How could she agree to help Dimitri recover this man? How could she betray Spike that way?
Spike? How could she betray Spike? This wasn't Spike, she reminded herself angrily, and even if it was... well, what loyalty did she owe him? He hadn't been much more than an annoyance to her since the moment they met. No, he hadn't been an annoyance, he had been worse than that, an annoyance wounldn't have made her hurt this bad. She had loved him... had been in love with him... and he had been in love with Julia. He'd broken her heart.
He was still breaking her heart. Even as she tried to rationalize her decision, she knew that it didn't matter, and it was killing her.
But she couldn't sacrifice a living man for a dead one; she couldn't let them harm John, just because she still had feelings for a corpse. It wasn't about making the right choice; it had been her only choice.
'traitor, traitor, traitor...'
The pair came to a stop in front of the elevator, and Dimitri sidestepped, gesturing for Faye to enter first.
She blinked twice, seeming a little puzzled, and obviously distracted, before she entered the steel box. She turned to face the doors as Dimitri slipped in next to her.
"You've been very quiet." He stated.
"I'm very angry." She replied... and very upset.
Dimitri smiled, knowingly, "don't worry, my dear, if you deliver Corbin to me, I'll release your 'darling John.' I have every faith that you'll do the right thing."
"I'm sure you do."
Their conversation was cut short, as the doors slid open. They made their way out onto the empty, tar-covered rooftop, just as her ship was landing.
"What excellent timing... well, I suppose you'll want to be on your way."
"I wouldn't spend any more time in your presence than I absolutely had to," Faye hissed between gritted teeth.
"Hmm..." was all Dimitri said, but his eyes flickered in anger.
Faye turned from him, and went to her ship, extending the plank. Right before the door slid shut, she turned back to him, and blew him a kiss. "When I see you again, it'll be the last time."