...The Ones You Love.
Chapter Five: The Final Confrontation?
Helen's SUV, and Jake's Lexus pulled to a stop. They were ins the middle of the desert, nothing for miles in any direction. The doors opened, and Jake, Wendy and Horizon stepped out of the vehicles.
"Who are you?" demanded Jake. "Are you with them?"
The man smiled. "Not quite. You could say...we're professional rivals."
"What do you want?"
"I told you, Jake, to help you."
Wendy stepped forward. "Why should we trust you?"
"Hello, Ms Thackerell." His eyes narrowed. "Or is it Ms Flores, or Ms Nogura these days? I forget the other one."
Horizon spoke up: "Wendy, what's he talking about?"
The man turned to her. "And you, Miss Bridger. Is it Horizon, or H. Elizabeth these days?"
Jake stepped closer to the man. "Is there a point to this?"
"Jake Morgendorffer. Well-meaning, but clueless father. Amateur chef. Unsuccessful management consultant. Major issues with his late father. Up until two months ago, when you suddenly found yourself becoming stronger, more confident, more successful. And not just that. Now you have gifts. Speed, strength, agility. All improved. Fighting abilities you never used to have. All of which came in very handy when you stopped a plan to destroy Lawndale, at the High School, resulting in the deaths of three teachers and one student." The man cocked an eyebrow. "Does that about cover it?"
"What are we looking for?" Horizon shaded her eyes and gazed around the sweeping vista. Some tumbleweeds blew past them.
"I hate the desert," mumbled Wendy. "This is going to pay hell with my complexion."
Jake pointed off in the distance. "That."
The two women squinted. "What?"
"That." Jake pointed to a small hut a couple of hundred yards away. It looked like an outhouse, of all things.
"I always said our government was going into the toilet," said Horizon, and grinned.
"Spare me, Intern Girl."
"So you've been watching us. So you know a great deal about us. That doesn't mean we should trust you."
"That's the exact reason why you need to trust me. They don't know we've been watching. They don't know that we know so much about them. This is our chance to get rid of both of our problems."
Jake frowned. "I don't follow you."
"Follow this. I work for a government organization. I'd rather not say which one. Our existence and powers are threatened by your brother's plan. We've suspected them of this for a while, but we've never been able to pin anything on them."
Wendy spoke up: "And this is our problem how?"
The man ignored her. "We got our biggest break two months ago. We heard about what happened at Lawndale High, and moved in. We acquired a number of their operatives from the hospitals here, and they told us about you. We've been watching you ever since."
"The men that disappeared from the hospital - that was you."
The man nodded.
"Okay, so we found the underground lair. Now what?"
"Come on, Wendy. We both like Bond movies - what does he always do?"
Wendy thought for a moment. "Stroll in, exchange pleasantries with the bad guy, then get his arse bailed out by the handy army, navy, or ninjas that he has waiting to help him. Then he beats up the bad guys, blows up the lair, and gets laid."
"Sounds like a plan," said Jake.
"Very amusing," said Horizon. "But what are you actually going to do?"
Jake thought for a moment. "Knock on the door, and go inside."
"You're kidding." Wendy's face fell. "You're not kidding."
"Jake!" Horizon looked at him. "You can't. They'll kill you."
Jake thought for a moment. "No. Alexander wants to do it himself. I'll be safe until I find him, then I'll think of something."
"How reassuring."
"I don't have a choice. They've got my daughters." Jake turned and placed his hands on the two women's shoulders. "Listen. If all goes to plan, the kids should come out of there soon enough. When they do, get them into the cars, and get away. Whether I'm there or not, okay?"
Wendy closed her eyes and nodded. Horizon bit her lip and did the same. Jake continued: "In the glove compartment of the SUV are two envelopes in case I don't see you again. Inside are severance packages for both of you. Wendy, there's also a letter of recommendation for you, Horizon, all my stuff for your semester review. I had to do them in a hurry, so sorry for any mistakes." His voice became quieter. "Thank you for all your help - both of you."
He moved to get up. Impulsively, Horizon took his face in his hands, and kissed him lightly on the lips. She drew back. Jake looked at her, confused, for a moment, then left. Horizon turned to Wendy, who was staring at her. "What?"
Jake walked towards the hut, not looking him behind him.
"Well, what do you want from me?"
The man looked at Jake. "They have a secret base somewhere in the US, with one of those weapons. We don't know where it is. I think you do. Alexander's feelings towards you are well known. He wants you to find him."
"You want me to lead you to him." It was a statement, not a question. "Why should I?"
Colonel Franklin Davers smiled. "Well, Jake. We'll have to find something that's appealing to both of us, won't we?"
The door to the hut swung open as Jake approached. Two armed guards emerged, flanked him. They motioned for him to go inside. He did so, and stepped into an elevator. The guards entered, and one of them punched in a code. The doors slid shut, and the elevator began descending. Jake couldn't tell how far underground they were going, but it had to be quite a significant distance. It stopped, and the doors slid open again, revealing a gleaming metallic corridor. It was lined with armed guards, and stretched as far as Jake could see. The guards motioned for him to walk, and he did so. Jake couldn't help but notice how the guards trained their weapons on him as he walked past.
How are you going to get out of this one, Jakey?
The corridor ended at a set of large steel doors, which slid open onto a vast hall, decorated in white and steel. A huge window at one end showed the next room, which appeared to be an exact replica of the weapon at Lawndale High. Or more accurately, Lawndale had been a replica of that one. More guards lined the room. On a raised dais at the front stood the teenagers, Daria and Quinn among them. He saw Quinn's fashion friends, Trent and Jane, and he recognized a couple of the others from school functions. Michael Mackenzie and Jodie Landon. Charles Ruttheimer's boy, and a cheerleader. They gave a gasp of recognition as he entered. Behind them stood Alexander, and an older man. At the very back of the room were an ornate set of doors. They seemed very familiar to Jake, although he couldn't place where or why.
"Daddy?" It was Quinn.
"I'm okay, Quinn. Everything's going to be fine."
"Yeah, right," muttered Daria.
"Lying to your children is a terrible habit, Jake," said Alexander, walking to the front of the dais. "I see you decided to show up."
"I didn't have a choice."
"Quite." Alexander smiled. "And here we are."
"You don't need them. Let them go."
"You're wrong. I do need them. Your useless, pathetic attempts at parenting are over. I'll raise these girls in the manner they should have be raised. They will be a credit to the name Morgendorffer."
"It's not too late, you know. You have a choice. You don't have to be what he wanted you to be. You don't have to do what he wanted you to do."
"I'm not being forced. I chose this. Before this, I had nothing. I was a pathetic misfit, a lowlife. Now, I am a credit to my father, and his glorious plan. You're jealous, because I got the adulation you always craved, but could never earn."
Jake shook his head. "I learned a long time that I didn't need to be what he wanted. You need to make your own place in the world. Don't do this, please."
Alexander walked towards Jake. "I choose this. I choose the legacy that you rejected. The only thing I need to do now is destroy you. Then, A.H. Morgendorffer's one and only mistake will be erased. You know that's what he called you? A mistake. He said that the only thing in his life he regretted was having you. I'm going to finally fix that problem."
"Take your best shot. I'm wide open."
Alexander was only a few feet from Jake now. "Kill an unarmed man?" He shook his head. "I can beat you any time, anywhere." He pulled a sword from his belt, and threw it to Jake, who caught it. Alexander pulled another one out for himself. "Your final defeat in front of my daughters to show them what happens to weakness in my world." He raised the sword in a fighting stance.
Jake stared at his weapon. "I don't want to fight you."
"But you're going to."
Newton stepped forward. "Alexander, what are you doing?"
"Stay back. No-one interfere. That's an order."
"But..."
"You have your orders."
Newton stepped back, glowering.
Jake stared at Alexander, then back to his sword. Could he beat him? He doubted it, but what choice did he have? He needed to stay alive for Daria and Quinn's sake. The sight of Alexander made him think of Timothy O'Neill, and he nearly retched at the memory of killing.
Alexander raised his sword, and prepared to attack. He had no doubt he could defeat Jake. He had to. Jake had dogged his life, and now, by killing him, Alexander would finally prove to himself that he was the true son. He would be free.
Daria watched her father grip the sword tightly. On the one hand, she couldn't believe what was happening. On the other, she was scared, more scared than she had ever been. Her father wasn't a fighter, was he? He'd been in the school back then, and Quinn had mentioned about him taking down ten people at one time. But she was still skeptical, especially since at times, it was fifteen, or twenty.
She felt something brush against her hand, and looked down. It was Jane's hand. Daria took it and squeezed it, and looked up at Jane, and smiled. Jane smiled back, a little sadly.
Jake raised the sword, and tensed. Alexander made the first attack, and swung at him. Jake parried, and made a counter attack. Alexander effortlessly blocked, and swung again. Their swords clashed again. Jake fell back, taken aback by the strength of Alexander's attacks. Alexander struck again, and again. Jake stumbled back, parrying the blows in the nick of time. The attacks grew faster and faster. Jake blocked a swing, and tried to force the sword from Alexander's hand. He responded by kicking Jake in the face, sending him sprawling.
Jake rolled from another strike. He flung himself backwards onto his feet, and ducked back as a sword swiped inches from his chest. An uppercut from Alexander kicked him off balance, and he barely avoided another swipe, this one cutting through his shirt, and drawing blood.
Jake staggered back, trying to regain his stance. Alexander gave him no quarter. Another set of blistering strikes came down, Jake only barely blocking them. He was being backed into a corner.
In desperation, he somersaulted over Alexander's head, and ran a few feet from him, and turned. Alexander was on his tail. Jake swung low, aiming for his legs. Alexander leapt to avoid the swipe and Jake flipped over, and kicked him in the chest while he was in the air. He flew backwards, and landed hard. Jake ran in for the follow up. Alexander was already on his feet, and blocked the thrusts easily. Jake made a thrust - Alexander blocked it - Jake used his momentum to lunge past him, and elbow him in the back. Alexander fell, Jake turned to stab - Alexander had rolled clear, and swept Jake's legs from under him.
They both clambered to their feet, Alexander swinging towards Jake. It caught him in the shoulder, and he cried out in pain. Alexander followed up by kicking him square in the back, sending him sprawling, his sword clattering across the room, out of his reach. Jake cried out in pain - the kick landing in his cracked ribs.
Alexander's sword came down - Jake rolled out of the way, leapt to his feet. He dodged backwards as another swing came in. Another one - Jake grabbed Alexander's hand, and tried to force him to drop the sword. Alexander head-butted him. Jake stumbled back, blood dripping from his nose - but he didn't let go of Alexander's hand. He squeezed as hard as he could. There was a crunching sound, and Alexander grunted in pain. Jake brought his knee up and caught him in the gut. Alexander doubled over, winded - and let go of the sword. Jake pulled it from him, but Alexander had recovered, and spun round, kicking it from his hands. It flew across the room, embedding itself in the wall. Alexander did a follow up kick. It caught Jake on the chin, sending him reeling - a third kick sent him flying across the room, sliding against the wall.
Alexander bore down on him - Jake got to his feet - punched Alexander in the jaw. A second blow to the gut. Alexander responded by delivering a powerful combo; devastating blows to the side, and the shoulder.
The exact spots where Jake had been shot. He flinched in pain as he felt the wounds reopening, something warm and wet trickling on the inside of his shirt. He saw Alexander smile, knowing he'd hit his targets.
He staggered back, trying to focus through the pain. Everything seemed distant, blurry. He could barely see Alexander advancing on him, drawing back his fist. Jake tried to block, but the punch slammed into his jaw. A kick to his chin, then another punch, right where the gunshot wound in his gut was.
Jake leapt back, and gingerly felt his side. His hand came up covered with blood. The room swam for a moment. Jake gritted his teeth and rushed Alexander. He swung a punch at him. Alexander moved to block, but Jake faked him, and drew back. Then he jumped up, and kicked him in the chest. Alexander staggered back. Jake grabbed his shirt, and threw Alexander against the wall as hard as he could. Alexander smashed into the far wall, it cracking a little under the impact. He yelled out, and slid down to the floor. Jake ran over to him, but Alexander had already gotten up, and grabbed Jake's shoulders. Jake tried to loosen his grip, but Alexander slammed his fist into the wound, and twisted. Jake howled in pain. Still twisting the wound, Alexander punched him again, and again, in the ribs. There was a sickening crunch, as one of them finally broke. Alexander finished by punching his wound in his stomach again. Jake sank to his knees in pain and Alexander kneed him in the jaw, sending him flying backwards.
Alexander watched with some satisfaction as Jake slid across the floor, and lay there, trying to rise to his feet. He'd done it. He'd beaten him. He was better, just as he had thought all along. One more task. He walked over to him, and kicked him, hard, in the ribs. The ones he knew were cracked. Another cry of pain. The sound was very satisfying to him. He stood over him, and placed his right foot on Jakes throat. He pushed down hard, strangling Jake, and soon, breaking his neck.
Jake tried to focus through the pain.
Get up! You have to...
Another blistering surge of pain through his chest. Then he felt something hard go against his throat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. With some effort, he opened his eyes to see Alexander's foot on his throat, slowly crushing it. The room started to go black.
Looks like 'Mad Dog' wins again, huh Jake?
The thought of his father galvanized Jake. His father had interfered with his life up until he was 18. And now, again, the old man had set things in motion that were trying to run his life again. He couldn't be free of him, and now he was going to die because his father would never let him run his own life.
"No," he gasped. "No!"
He reached up and grabbed Alexander's leg, and threw him off. Alexander landed on his back. Jake rose to his feet. Alexander did the same, looking surprised at Jake's recovery. Jake lunged at Alexander. If he couldn't make his father pay, he would make his protege pay. Alexander tried to block, but Jake's blows were powered by anger, and they smashed through his blocks. One blow caught him on the face, smashing his nose. He staggered back.
Jake kicked him in the stomach, sending him doubling up. Jake grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind him, dislocating his shoulder. Alexander cried out. Jake kicked him in the back, sending him sprawling against a wall. Jake walked over, and smashed his face in the wall, imagining that this was his father, and that all of his childhood anger was coming out at once. Alexander sank to his knees, and Jake picked him up, and threw him across the floor. Alexander landed hard. Jake kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could, sending him flying against the wall again. The sound of his ribs cracking was very satisfying to Jake. His father shouldn't have treated him like that. Every punch, every kick, felt like he was getting revenge on his father for all those years of abuse. Alexander tried to get up, but he could only rise to his knees. Jake spotted the sword sticking out of the wall. He grabbed it, and swung it straight at Alexander's neck.
Suddenly, he got an image of Timothy O'Neill as he fell to his death.
The room was deathly silent. Jake's sword had stopped just a millimeter into Alexander's neck, and there was a thin trickle of blood running down.
"I'm not a killer," Jake whispered to himself. "It's not your fault. He messed you up, like he messed me up. I have to let go of the past." This was not his father. He had been used by his father, just as Jake had. Killing him wouldn't solve anything. He'd be playing his father's games, and he never wanted to do that. He needed to be his own man, not a shadow of his father, embittered and haunted by the past. He looked around. No-one else seemed to have heard him. He pulled the sword back, and pointed it at Alexander's throat. Then he turned to Newton. "Listen to me! Let the kids go! Or I'll kill him!"
"He's bluffing," said Alexander. "He doesn't have the guts to kill me."
You're right. Hopefully they don't know that.
Newton stared at him for a moment. Then he turned to a guard. "Let them go. Give them the code for the elevator"
Alexander blinked. "What are you doing?"
"You got us into this mess. You and your ego. I'm trying to get us out of it. The kids, realistically, are worthless to us. You, for all your faults, are not. We need you more than them."
The kids started for the door, nervously. "Daria, Quinn," Jake called. "Get them out. The two women I work with are above. Go with them."
Daria and Quinn slowly walked over to him. "Daddy, what about you."
"I'll be fine Quinn."
Daria took a look at the slowly growing puddle of blood gathering around his feet, and raised an eyebrow.
"Daria, please. Quickly."
She nodded, and grabbed Quinn. Before she left, she glanced at Alexander, then back to Jake with a questioning expression on her face. Jake knew what she was asking. He shook his head. "No, Daria. I'm not going to kill him," he said in a whisper, so no-one but her and Quinn could hear. She smiled slightly, and grabbed Quinn, and walked through the door, following the other students.
Alexander spat some blood out. "What now, Jake? You're boxed in."
Jake looked up, straight at the ornate doors on the dais. "We're going for a walk."
The elevator doors slid open, and the door to the hut swung open. All of the students, followed by Daria and Quinn, filed out.
"Girls! Over here!"
Daria glanced over to the source of the call. It was the redheaded Englishwoman who her dad worked with, plus the blonde in the power suit. They were standing beside her Dad's Lexus and Helen's SUV. They ran over, and the redhead began bustling everyone into the two cars.
"Hold on," said Daria. "We're not just leaving Dad here. He's hurt, and still in there."
"Hurt bad?"
Daria nodded.
"Shit. Look, Dara..."
"Daria. We have to get out of here. Your Dad has something planned."
Quinn looked confused. "What?"
The redhead told them. Their eyes went wide.
"Okay, Davers. You get what you want, and I get what I want. One condition, though."
Franklin sighed. "What?"
"Wait until the kids are out. If something goes wrong, I don't want them to be harmed."
"And if you don't get them out?"
Jake looked resolute. "I will."
Jake led Alexander down the corridor behind the ornate doors. He'd fused the lock so no-one could follow them. He wasn't sure why he had to go down this corridor, he'd just felt compelled to. This corridor was different than the others. It was pure white - Jake had difficulty distinguishing the walls and ceiling from the floor. Alexander was getting nervous. Jake couldn't figure why.
"You don't have the guts to kill me."
"You're right. Plus I don't want to. The old man got to you just as much as he got to me. It's not your fault."
"Don't patronize me, Jake. You're dying. How much blood have you lost already?"
Jake glanced behind him. He was leaving a trail of blood across the gleaming white floor. Why hadn't he gone up with the others? He didn't know. He just knew he had to finish this, and the answers were down here - down this corridor. The corridor ended at another set of doors. They slid open, revealing a smallish room. This room still had the white floor, and the white ceiling, but the walls were more elaborate, with elegant trimmings and paintings lining them. There was only one piece of furniture in the room, a large king size bed along the far wall facing the door. Wires and tubing came from the bed into the wall behind it, which was lined with computer monitors and consoles. Jake and Alexander stepped into the room. Jake took a closer look at the bed. There was someone in it - an old man, maybe in his late seventies, with white hair and a beard. He looked familiar to Jake. Jake squinted, and suddenly he recognized the man. He took a deep breath, and said words he had not said for almost thirty years.
"Hello, Dad."
To Be Continued...
