Disclaimer is the same as in Chapter one.
Author's note is at the end.
Hostile Takeover—Chapter Two: At the Sign of Gate 12A
Sally pushed through the glass door and emerged from the airport. She shielded her eyes from the sun and scolded herself for forgetting her sunglasses. She saw a great deal of activity on the tarmac, pilots checking various parts of planes, ground crew driving their little carts, men in suits inspecting, looking. All of them appeared very useful doing things that must have great purpose.
None of it she really understood, but then again she didn't know if there was anything left in the world that she understood anymore.
Mr. Baggins had had a long talk with her about the purpose of his trip. He had appeared tired and sad and very, very humble. "At one time there were people of great wisdom and power who could tell you this tale but now I'm afraid there is only me," he had said in an effort to begin. The words that followed told of a Ring, a Ring he had been entrusted with to destroy.
Sally heard a great many things from him that afternoon. He spoke of great evil and great power. He told her how he had failed in his task. A weakness had overcome him and instead of destroying the Ring, he claimed it for himself. He intended to complete the task that he could not so long ago. His vulnerability had shamed him in a way he could not express in words. Sally felt that he had dedicated his life to making up for this thing he could not do. In the end, nothing would fit but the deed itself.
Although the tale itself did not blur in her mind, her belief in it did. Some of the details were too incredible for her to take at face value, but she refused to believe that her employer had gone mad. She did not have to believe the entire story to believe in him.
He would destroy the Ring and Sally would be with him. If there was only one thing she took out of his conversation with her, it was that. The rest she would accept little by little and only when she needed to.
At the moment only one thing creased her brow with worry. Mr. Baggins had sent her ahead to verify the readiness of his plane. His plane was not where it was supposed to be.
Standing on the tarmac feeling quite useless, Sally opened her cell phone and dialed Mr. Baggins in his car.
"Sally?" he answered on the other end. He had been awaiting her call.
"Mr. Baggins, I don't know what's going on, but your plane is not here," she said tensely.
She heard him sigh heavily. "I was afraid of this," he said softly, more to himself than to her.
Sally looked around her, hoping the answer to her mystery would present itself to her. A voice in the back of her mind told her that there was more wrong with this scene than just a missing plane. The pilots seemed normal. The ground crew did not strike her as out of place. But…. "Sir," she said, "there are several men here dressed in black suits. I'm not sure what they're doing." They appeared to be pacing, looking for something.
"I don't like the sound of that Sally," he told her. She could sense that he held his urgency back. "Come back to the car."
"But maybe they know what happened to your plane," she protested. One of them turned his attention to her and began to approach. He did not smile at her. In fact, she had difficulty making out his face.
"Stay away from them, Sally!" she could hear Mr. Baggins yelling but her phone seemed very far away.
Sally became aware that she was unable to move. A great and primal fear had gripped her. She stared at the approaching black-suited man unable to look away. Somehow she knew she should run but she just couldn't make herself do it.
For a moment, the scene altered before her eyes. The sky became dark and the asphalt of the airport tarmac took on the look of a wide dirt road. The man's suit became a flowing black hooded cloak and he appeared before her atop a demonic looking black horse. For this briefest of moments, she had clarity of thought. She knew what this thing was before her and she knew what it wanted.
Terrified beyond words, she stumbled backwards to the door of the airport. At the touch of the cold steel of the door's handle, reality slipped back into place. Daylight returned and the image of horses and dark cloaks disappeared. The man in black and Sally's mounting fear remained.
The man closest to her seemed to open his mouth but words did not come out. Instead a shrill, inhuman shriek pierced the air, alerting the other men in black suits to Sally's impending escape. They all turned their heads towards her in unison, snapping them in place as if she herself had cried out to them.
She yanked hard on the handle and slipped inside just as they reached for her. Not even slowing to look behind her she raced through Midway airport, careening through the other patrons and employees as if they were obstacles in her path. She ran faster than her fashionable shoes would allow. The heel of her left shoe snapped like a twig and she crumpled to the hard floor beneath her. The impact jarred her cell phone out of her hand and it skidded across the tiles several paces ahead of her.
Sally cursed herself for not having planned this more rationally. She should have known better. Maybe she had doubted Mr. Baggins' story more than she realized. Did she not hear the warnings? Did she not believe the danger? Had she not watched enough disaster films to know to wear more practical shoes?
These self-deprecating thoughts were fleeting, as the urgency of her retreat had not left her mind. As she began to pull herself to her feet, she looked ahead of her to locate her cell phone.
It laid at the feet of a tall, gentleman wearing an expensive Italian suit.
Sally opened her mouth to report a courteous note of gratitude but quickly closed it again as she watched the man reach for her phone. He regarded her with a cold cunning that filled her with dread. This man had no intent to do anything that would require her gratitude. Without glancing back she could feel the men in black gather behind her.
They didn't take her, as she expected they would. Something held them in check, like guard dogs obeying their master. They looked to the man who held her phone for their orders and he controlled them with the slightest gesture of his hand.
The man was an older gentleman, almost elderly but of the utmost refinement. He wore his hair long, a mane of silvery white that hung past his shoulders. As he lifted the phone to his mouth he spoke in a voice so velvety smooth that it would almost be comforting if the words he used were not so menacing.
"Mr. Baggins, your choice in traveling companions intrigues me," he spoke, holding Sally to the floor with his terrible gaze. "One of the most influential businessmen in the world and he takes his secretary. This isn't a business trip, Frodo. I command the nine now."
Sally couldn't help but wonder about Mr. Baggin's reaction on the other end. Would he plead for her life or simply listen in stunned silence? She could not wait for him to come rushing in to her rescue. If she had any hope for an escape, her fate laid in her own hands. She simply needed to have the clarity to plan her move and the courage to make it.
TBC
Author's note: Chapter Three: "Flight to Ford and Vine" Frodo and his plucky assistant try to get out of the city. New problems present themselves as well as an interesting new character will make an appearance. Anyone who would like an email notification of chapter updates, please let me know. It's way too easy to get lost. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed. You keep me going.
Any fans of "On the Beach" that are reading this… I've written the first chapter of "William" and am beginning to think I should do the prequel first. So as I work on chapter 3 of "Hostile Takeover", I'll be working on "Visions of Blood and Fire". I haven't forgotten you guys. I promise that I will finish this saga.
Author's note is at the end.
Hostile Takeover—Chapter Two: At the Sign of Gate 12A
Sally pushed through the glass door and emerged from the airport. She shielded her eyes from the sun and scolded herself for forgetting her sunglasses. She saw a great deal of activity on the tarmac, pilots checking various parts of planes, ground crew driving their little carts, men in suits inspecting, looking. All of them appeared very useful doing things that must have great purpose.
None of it she really understood, but then again she didn't know if there was anything left in the world that she understood anymore.
Mr. Baggins had had a long talk with her about the purpose of his trip. He had appeared tired and sad and very, very humble. "At one time there were people of great wisdom and power who could tell you this tale but now I'm afraid there is only me," he had said in an effort to begin. The words that followed told of a Ring, a Ring he had been entrusted with to destroy.
Sally heard a great many things from him that afternoon. He spoke of great evil and great power. He told her how he had failed in his task. A weakness had overcome him and instead of destroying the Ring, he claimed it for himself. He intended to complete the task that he could not so long ago. His vulnerability had shamed him in a way he could not express in words. Sally felt that he had dedicated his life to making up for this thing he could not do. In the end, nothing would fit but the deed itself.
Although the tale itself did not blur in her mind, her belief in it did. Some of the details were too incredible for her to take at face value, but she refused to believe that her employer had gone mad. She did not have to believe the entire story to believe in him.
He would destroy the Ring and Sally would be with him. If there was only one thing she took out of his conversation with her, it was that. The rest she would accept little by little and only when she needed to.
At the moment only one thing creased her brow with worry. Mr. Baggins had sent her ahead to verify the readiness of his plane. His plane was not where it was supposed to be.
Standing on the tarmac feeling quite useless, Sally opened her cell phone and dialed Mr. Baggins in his car.
"Sally?" he answered on the other end. He had been awaiting her call.
"Mr. Baggins, I don't know what's going on, but your plane is not here," she said tensely.
She heard him sigh heavily. "I was afraid of this," he said softly, more to himself than to her.
Sally looked around her, hoping the answer to her mystery would present itself to her. A voice in the back of her mind told her that there was more wrong with this scene than just a missing plane. The pilots seemed normal. The ground crew did not strike her as out of place. But…. "Sir," she said, "there are several men here dressed in black suits. I'm not sure what they're doing." They appeared to be pacing, looking for something.
"I don't like the sound of that Sally," he told her. She could sense that he held his urgency back. "Come back to the car."
"But maybe they know what happened to your plane," she protested. One of them turned his attention to her and began to approach. He did not smile at her. In fact, she had difficulty making out his face.
"Stay away from them, Sally!" she could hear Mr. Baggins yelling but her phone seemed very far away.
Sally became aware that she was unable to move. A great and primal fear had gripped her. She stared at the approaching black-suited man unable to look away. Somehow she knew she should run but she just couldn't make herself do it.
For a moment, the scene altered before her eyes. The sky became dark and the asphalt of the airport tarmac took on the look of a wide dirt road. The man's suit became a flowing black hooded cloak and he appeared before her atop a demonic looking black horse. For this briefest of moments, she had clarity of thought. She knew what this thing was before her and she knew what it wanted.
Terrified beyond words, she stumbled backwards to the door of the airport. At the touch of the cold steel of the door's handle, reality slipped back into place. Daylight returned and the image of horses and dark cloaks disappeared. The man in black and Sally's mounting fear remained.
The man closest to her seemed to open his mouth but words did not come out. Instead a shrill, inhuman shriek pierced the air, alerting the other men in black suits to Sally's impending escape. They all turned their heads towards her in unison, snapping them in place as if she herself had cried out to them.
She yanked hard on the handle and slipped inside just as they reached for her. Not even slowing to look behind her she raced through Midway airport, careening through the other patrons and employees as if they were obstacles in her path. She ran faster than her fashionable shoes would allow. The heel of her left shoe snapped like a twig and she crumpled to the hard floor beneath her. The impact jarred her cell phone out of her hand and it skidded across the tiles several paces ahead of her.
Sally cursed herself for not having planned this more rationally. She should have known better. Maybe she had doubted Mr. Baggins' story more than she realized. Did she not hear the warnings? Did she not believe the danger? Had she not watched enough disaster films to know to wear more practical shoes?
These self-deprecating thoughts were fleeting, as the urgency of her retreat had not left her mind. As she began to pull herself to her feet, she looked ahead of her to locate her cell phone.
It laid at the feet of a tall, gentleman wearing an expensive Italian suit.
Sally opened her mouth to report a courteous note of gratitude but quickly closed it again as she watched the man reach for her phone. He regarded her with a cold cunning that filled her with dread. This man had no intent to do anything that would require her gratitude. Without glancing back she could feel the men in black gather behind her.
They didn't take her, as she expected they would. Something held them in check, like guard dogs obeying their master. They looked to the man who held her phone for their orders and he controlled them with the slightest gesture of his hand.
The man was an older gentleman, almost elderly but of the utmost refinement. He wore his hair long, a mane of silvery white that hung past his shoulders. As he lifted the phone to his mouth he spoke in a voice so velvety smooth that it would almost be comforting if the words he used were not so menacing.
"Mr. Baggins, your choice in traveling companions intrigues me," he spoke, holding Sally to the floor with his terrible gaze. "One of the most influential businessmen in the world and he takes his secretary. This isn't a business trip, Frodo. I command the nine now."
Sally couldn't help but wonder about Mr. Baggin's reaction on the other end. Would he plead for her life or simply listen in stunned silence? She could not wait for him to come rushing in to her rescue. If she had any hope for an escape, her fate laid in her own hands. She simply needed to have the clarity to plan her move and the courage to make it.
TBC
Author's note: Chapter Three: "Flight to Ford and Vine" Frodo and his plucky assistant try to get out of the city. New problems present themselves as well as an interesting new character will make an appearance. Anyone who would like an email notification of chapter updates, please let me know. It's way too easy to get lost. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed. You keep me going.
Any fans of "On the Beach" that are reading this… I've written the first chapter of "William" and am beginning to think I should do the prequel first. So as I work on chapter 3 of "Hostile Takeover", I'll be working on "Visions of Blood and Fire". I haven't forgotten you guys. I promise that I will finish this saga.