Part 11
With a great effort, Jesse tore his gaze away from the monitor in front of him, fighting the frustration he could feel threatening to take over and make him do something he knew he would regret.
He'd been sitting here in the control room for longer than he probably should, trying to resist the compulsion that washed over him every few minutes to call up Shalimar and check she was OK. But, knowing how she'd react to that intrusion, especially as he still couldn't explain to her why, he'd settled instead for pulling up the locator display for their com-links. Just watching the reassuring blink of the little lights marking hers and Brennan's position made him feel better, that he was in some way watching out for her even if he couldn't be with her.
At least, until the lights had gone out.
Only for a few seconds, but long enough to have him starting out of his chair with a wordless cry, nerves jumping instantaneously to screaming pitch. And then they'd winked merrily back on again, as if laughing at the way they'd fooled him, and he'd sunk back down, trying to calm his racing pulse.
But a couple of minutes later they'd gone out again, this time for a lot longer, and he'd been on the verge of calling Adam when they suddenly reappeared. And went out. And came on. And went out. And so on, for greater or lesser periods...
They were out now, though - had been for nearly ten minutes, and with every second that ticked by he could feel the uncertainty building in him, sapping his already weakened reserves and twisting his nerves even tighter. While his rational side wanted him to believe there could be any number of simple explanations for it, his heart was telling him it meant trouble, that he needed to take some action now – and he was finding it harder and harder to prevent himself following its advice.
Not that there was much he could do about it from here, and that galled him more than anything.
Five more minutes, he decided. If it wasn't back in five more minutes he'd... do what? Take a car and go after them? Call Adam? But neither of those options seemed to assuage his need for immediate reassurance that Shalimar wasn't in mortal danger.
Slamming his hand down against the table, he pushed himself to his feet, stretching warily and wincing at the pull of still tender flesh and overworked muscles. Somewhere deep in the lower right side of his chest a knifing pain stabbed ephemerally at him, leaving him momentarily breathless, but it was gone before he could take stock of it. One more indication that his body wasn't enjoying what he'd put it through the past few days, he thought sombrely.
He paced restlessly across the room, only realising when he turned back and found his eyes caught by a forthright black-rimmed grey-green stare that he was being watched.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Connie asked, raising the peanut-butter covered slice of bread she was holding to her plum-painted lips and swirling her tongue across its surface in a way that she obviously intended to be provocative. And indeed, it had Jesse oddly mesmerised for a few seconds before he realised what he was doing – though probably not for the reasons she thought.
He shook himself quickly out of it, though, retaliating with, "Did Emma say you could play with her make-up?" He saw from the slight flush rising into her pale cheeks that he'd hit the mark. "I won't tell if you won't," he offered with a conspiratorial wink, then continued more seriously. "Besides, I can't rest, not with everyone else away. I've got a feeling there's going to be trouble."
"More dreams?" she queried, seemingly dropping her attempt at vampishness along with the mid-afternoon snack, consigned to a bin as she came properly into the room and slid onto a stool. "Oh, it's OK, I know all about them," she assured him brightly, at his quizzical glance. "I was keeping an eye on you when you started freaking out with the last one – looked like it was mega bad! And I was the one told Adam about Gayle having them too. I think that kind of cracked the case – you know, gave him the clue he needed to find this Joshua guy, the one who got squished in that safe house thing way back when? The one they've gone off to see? Well, Adam and Emma have – the other two have gone looking for those guys, the ones that were after me. Did I say thank you for that, by the way?"
She paused, shoving her sweeping bangs aside to get a better look at his shell-shocked expression. "No, I guess I didn't..."
"Uh..." he blinked, trying to assimilate the information she'd just thrown at him, his mind kicking up cross-matches with the parts of his last conversation with Shalimar that he'd conveniently ignored at the time.
Joshua?
That was a name he realised he'd managed to avoid thinking about for a long time. Even when Gayle's name had come up again, he'd managed somehow to confine his memories of her to the time she'd spent with them in Sanctuary, rather than the events that had driven her away and, if the squirming sensation in his stomach was anything to go by, he didn't really want to think about them now. Maybe that showed in his face because Connie was talking at him again, pulling him back from the brink with, "Hey, are you OK? Do you think you should, maybe, sit down or something?"
Feeling strangely light-headed, he let her steer him gingerly towards a chair, after which she retreated to her stool again to observe him uneasily.
A few cautiously deep breaths and the dizziness cleared, helped by his subconscious decision to put the matter of Joshua aside until he was alone and could deal with it in his own way. And in any case, a quick look at the monitor told him he had more pressing things to occupy himself with – like the fact that the screen was still devoid of the flashing lights he so desperately needed to see.
How long had he said? Five minutes? And how long had it been? Too long, said his heart and he rose to his feet again to do its bidding.
"Adam?" he called, activating the comms system. But even though he could tell the link was operational, there was no reply. "Adam!" he repeated, louder, and this time he got an answer – a curt, "Not now, Jesse."
"But Adam," he protested, "I've lost Shal and Brennan's signals..."
"I said, not now! It's not a problem, just a local glitch. I'll talk to you later. Off." And then there as nothing but static.
Jesse felt the heated rush of humiliation surging through him at the way he'd been dismissed so indifferently, anger coming fast on its heels, and without further thought he allowed the emotions to take him, his feet moving of their own volition.
"Where are you going?" Connie demanded anxiously from behind him as he headed for the door. "What's going on? What's with the map thing?"
He stopped and half turned, trying to get a grip on his rising temper enough to answer her without biting her head off. "That's supposed to show me where Shalimar and Brennan are." He held up his right hand and wiggled his ring finger. "They have a homing signal, let's us track each other."
"Oh yeah! That's how Brennan found you guys down the river. That's so cool!"
"Right," he agreed, wishing she'd just let him finish so he could get on with what he needed to do. "But it's not. Not showing them. They've been there intermittently, but not now. And..."
"And you're worried whatever you dreamed about is happening?"
"You got it." He turned back to the door, mind racing ahead, formulating plans without any consideration for what his body might be capable of delivering.
But she hadn't finished. "And you're going to do... what, exactly, about it?"
He looked over his shoulder at her in disbelief that she couldn't see the obvious. "Go and find them, of course. Help them!"
"Adam doesn't seem to think there's a problem, though," she pointed out, twisting a strand of hair through her fingers a little nervously as she looked at him doubtfully.
"Yeah, well, Adam isn't always right, you know. He doesn't know *everything*!" He was mortified to feel himself shaking, though he couldn't say whether it was the rage that was consuming him or his physical condition letting him down.
"Well, excuse me, but he just seems like he's the guy in charge here!" she retorted, jaw tightening and eyes narrowing at his tone. "And just how do you think you're going to do that? How are you going to get there? Look at you – it's got to be, like, a five-six hour drive, even in that Lexus sports job you got stashed away in the garage. You'd barely get half way before you ran out of steam, needed to take a nap. And how stupid are you going to look when you finally get there and find that they were doing just fine without you, that they're already on their way back, safe and sound?"
Jesse struggled for the right words to put this adolescent, this *child* with no idea of what the world was about, firmly in her place. But none came, and without the words to feed his anger it just seeped away, leaving him weak and breathless again.
"I need to do *something*," he whispered, eyes flicking to the screen and away.
She let out a breath, as if relieved that her temerity wasn't going to be punished, and her expression softened a little. "Yeah, I know how you feel. They've got the only person who's ever made me feel like I have a place in the world, a proper reason for being here. And there's nothing I can do to help her. But I can't see how you killing yourself is going to do anyone any good." She cast a wistful glance at the monitor, then added, "Especially as it looks like there's nothing to worry about."
His head snapped round again, the sight of the twin winking red lights driving a smile of delight to his face. "Yes!" He punched the air, relishing the relief coursing through him and trying to ignore the smug 'I told you so' look he was being favoured with.
Not that she was going to let him off that easily. "OK, so... maybe just a glitch after all, huh?"
Unwilling to admit anything, he just sent her a sideways look. But he knew she knew she'd won by the way she smiled sweetly back at him as she got to her feet.
"You want something to eat? You're way too skinny, you know that? I thought all superheroes had to have loads of muscles, you know, like Brennan? I know you've been sick, but you really need to eat if you want to get fit enough to do that save the world stuff again."
He scowled at her, not liking the comparison even though he knew she was right about the eating bit. "What are you, my mother? No, I don't want anything to eat. And if I did, I know where the kitchen is."
"Well... if you're sure." She paused in the doorway, though, turning to ask a little too casually, "So, does Brennan have a girlfriend right now?"
Jesse almost choked on an inadvertently abrupt intake of air, eyes widening in astonishment at the question, but he managed to croak a feeble, "Brennan? Uh, no..." as he strove to prevent the onset of a full blown coughing fit.
"Cool!" Connie grinned, disappearing only to pop her head back into a view a few seconds later with a frown. "No, don't tell me he's gay," she pleaded forlornly.
This time there was nothing he could do to stop the wracking coughs almost doubling him over, the sharp slivers digging deep into his lungs bringing tears to the eyes he rolled her way as he shook his head helplessly.
"Knew he wasn't," she beamed, her smile faltering when he showed no signs of stopping. "Er, I think I'd better get you some water." She vanished, leaving him wrestling to get his breathing back under control.
And, unnoticed behind him, the lights blinked out once more.
**
The man in the black combats stared impassively down at the two inert forms lying at his feet.
There were other similarly clad men in varying states of awareness scattered about the surrounding area, those still on their feet assisting those of their colleagues who'd been disabled by these intruders – and with ease, if reports were to be believed. Many wouldn't, he knew, but no-one here was surprised by anything they saw any more - least of all him, especially given his own background.
Not that it had done the two much good – even their freakish abilities couldn't withstand the weight of numbers he'd been able to apply to the problem, and which had inevitably overwhelmed their resistance.
He ran a dispassionate eye over them, his trained mind automatically logging estimates of their height and weight, other physical characteristics - including their obviously high levels of fitness - ready for his report. But at the same time he was pondering matters affecting the security of his operation; issues such as how they'd gotten here when there was no sign of a car on the road, what they thought they were looking for, whether their disappearance would bring others in search of them... They were carrying no identification, which tended to rule out the likelihood of them being casual passers-by. Nothing but the matching silver rings worn on their right hands, rings that had become curiously featureless when he'd removed them.
Well, time would tell – as would they, once the drug they'd finally immobilised them with had worn off and he had the chance to interrogate them.
"Take them to the coops," he instructed the subordinate hovering behind him. "And make sure you get them properly yoked – I don't want them causing any more damage like this." He waved his hand around the scene, acknowledging the salute and curt, "Yes, sir," with a brief nod.
And as he watched his men carry them away, he murmured to himself, "I think Mr. DeSalles is going to enjoy seeing these two put down."
****
With a great effort, Jesse tore his gaze away from the monitor in front of him, fighting the frustration he could feel threatening to take over and make him do something he knew he would regret.
He'd been sitting here in the control room for longer than he probably should, trying to resist the compulsion that washed over him every few minutes to call up Shalimar and check she was OK. But, knowing how she'd react to that intrusion, especially as he still couldn't explain to her why, he'd settled instead for pulling up the locator display for their com-links. Just watching the reassuring blink of the little lights marking hers and Brennan's position made him feel better, that he was in some way watching out for her even if he couldn't be with her.
At least, until the lights had gone out.
Only for a few seconds, but long enough to have him starting out of his chair with a wordless cry, nerves jumping instantaneously to screaming pitch. And then they'd winked merrily back on again, as if laughing at the way they'd fooled him, and he'd sunk back down, trying to calm his racing pulse.
But a couple of minutes later they'd gone out again, this time for a lot longer, and he'd been on the verge of calling Adam when they suddenly reappeared. And went out. And came on. And went out. And so on, for greater or lesser periods...
They were out now, though - had been for nearly ten minutes, and with every second that ticked by he could feel the uncertainty building in him, sapping his already weakened reserves and twisting his nerves even tighter. While his rational side wanted him to believe there could be any number of simple explanations for it, his heart was telling him it meant trouble, that he needed to take some action now – and he was finding it harder and harder to prevent himself following its advice.
Not that there was much he could do about it from here, and that galled him more than anything.
Five more minutes, he decided. If it wasn't back in five more minutes he'd... do what? Take a car and go after them? Call Adam? But neither of those options seemed to assuage his need for immediate reassurance that Shalimar wasn't in mortal danger.
Slamming his hand down against the table, he pushed himself to his feet, stretching warily and wincing at the pull of still tender flesh and overworked muscles. Somewhere deep in the lower right side of his chest a knifing pain stabbed ephemerally at him, leaving him momentarily breathless, but it was gone before he could take stock of it. One more indication that his body wasn't enjoying what he'd put it through the past few days, he thought sombrely.
He paced restlessly across the room, only realising when he turned back and found his eyes caught by a forthright black-rimmed grey-green stare that he was being watched.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Connie asked, raising the peanut-butter covered slice of bread she was holding to her plum-painted lips and swirling her tongue across its surface in a way that she obviously intended to be provocative. And indeed, it had Jesse oddly mesmerised for a few seconds before he realised what he was doing – though probably not for the reasons she thought.
He shook himself quickly out of it, though, retaliating with, "Did Emma say you could play with her make-up?" He saw from the slight flush rising into her pale cheeks that he'd hit the mark. "I won't tell if you won't," he offered with a conspiratorial wink, then continued more seriously. "Besides, I can't rest, not with everyone else away. I've got a feeling there's going to be trouble."
"More dreams?" she queried, seemingly dropping her attempt at vampishness along with the mid-afternoon snack, consigned to a bin as she came properly into the room and slid onto a stool. "Oh, it's OK, I know all about them," she assured him brightly, at his quizzical glance. "I was keeping an eye on you when you started freaking out with the last one – looked like it was mega bad! And I was the one told Adam about Gayle having them too. I think that kind of cracked the case – you know, gave him the clue he needed to find this Joshua guy, the one who got squished in that safe house thing way back when? The one they've gone off to see? Well, Adam and Emma have – the other two have gone looking for those guys, the ones that were after me. Did I say thank you for that, by the way?"
She paused, shoving her sweeping bangs aside to get a better look at his shell-shocked expression. "No, I guess I didn't..."
"Uh..." he blinked, trying to assimilate the information she'd just thrown at him, his mind kicking up cross-matches with the parts of his last conversation with Shalimar that he'd conveniently ignored at the time.
Joshua?
That was a name he realised he'd managed to avoid thinking about for a long time. Even when Gayle's name had come up again, he'd managed somehow to confine his memories of her to the time she'd spent with them in Sanctuary, rather than the events that had driven her away and, if the squirming sensation in his stomach was anything to go by, he didn't really want to think about them now. Maybe that showed in his face because Connie was talking at him again, pulling him back from the brink with, "Hey, are you OK? Do you think you should, maybe, sit down or something?"
Feeling strangely light-headed, he let her steer him gingerly towards a chair, after which she retreated to her stool again to observe him uneasily.
A few cautiously deep breaths and the dizziness cleared, helped by his subconscious decision to put the matter of Joshua aside until he was alone and could deal with it in his own way. And in any case, a quick look at the monitor told him he had more pressing things to occupy himself with – like the fact that the screen was still devoid of the flashing lights he so desperately needed to see.
How long had he said? Five minutes? And how long had it been? Too long, said his heart and he rose to his feet again to do its bidding.
"Adam?" he called, activating the comms system. But even though he could tell the link was operational, there was no reply. "Adam!" he repeated, louder, and this time he got an answer – a curt, "Not now, Jesse."
"But Adam," he protested, "I've lost Shal and Brennan's signals..."
"I said, not now! It's not a problem, just a local glitch. I'll talk to you later. Off." And then there as nothing but static.
Jesse felt the heated rush of humiliation surging through him at the way he'd been dismissed so indifferently, anger coming fast on its heels, and without further thought he allowed the emotions to take him, his feet moving of their own volition.
"Where are you going?" Connie demanded anxiously from behind him as he headed for the door. "What's going on? What's with the map thing?"
He stopped and half turned, trying to get a grip on his rising temper enough to answer her without biting her head off. "That's supposed to show me where Shalimar and Brennan are." He held up his right hand and wiggled his ring finger. "They have a homing signal, let's us track each other."
"Oh yeah! That's how Brennan found you guys down the river. That's so cool!"
"Right," he agreed, wishing she'd just let him finish so he could get on with what he needed to do. "But it's not. Not showing them. They've been there intermittently, but not now. And..."
"And you're worried whatever you dreamed about is happening?"
"You got it." He turned back to the door, mind racing ahead, formulating plans without any consideration for what his body might be capable of delivering.
But she hadn't finished. "And you're going to do... what, exactly, about it?"
He looked over his shoulder at her in disbelief that she couldn't see the obvious. "Go and find them, of course. Help them!"
"Adam doesn't seem to think there's a problem, though," she pointed out, twisting a strand of hair through her fingers a little nervously as she looked at him doubtfully.
"Yeah, well, Adam isn't always right, you know. He doesn't know *everything*!" He was mortified to feel himself shaking, though he couldn't say whether it was the rage that was consuming him or his physical condition letting him down.
"Well, excuse me, but he just seems like he's the guy in charge here!" she retorted, jaw tightening and eyes narrowing at his tone. "And just how do you think you're going to do that? How are you going to get there? Look at you – it's got to be, like, a five-six hour drive, even in that Lexus sports job you got stashed away in the garage. You'd barely get half way before you ran out of steam, needed to take a nap. And how stupid are you going to look when you finally get there and find that they were doing just fine without you, that they're already on their way back, safe and sound?"
Jesse struggled for the right words to put this adolescent, this *child* with no idea of what the world was about, firmly in her place. But none came, and without the words to feed his anger it just seeped away, leaving him weak and breathless again.
"I need to do *something*," he whispered, eyes flicking to the screen and away.
She let out a breath, as if relieved that her temerity wasn't going to be punished, and her expression softened a little. "Yeah, I know how you feel. They've got the only person who's ever made me feel like I have a place in the world, a proper reason for being here. And there's nothing I can do to help her. But I can't see how you killing yourself is going to do anyone any good." She cast a wistful glance at the monitor, then added, "Especially as it looks like there's nothing to worry about."
His head snapped round again, the sight of the twin winking red lights driving a smile of delight to his face. "Yes!" He punched the air, relishing the relief coursing through him and trying to ignore the smug 'I told you so' look he was being favoured with.
Not that she was going to let him off that easily. "OK, so... maybe just a glitch after all, huh?"
Unwilling to admit anything, he just sent her a sideways look. But he knew she knew she'd won by the way she smiled sweetly back at him as she got to her feet.
"You want something to eat? You're way too skinny, you know that? I thought all superheroes had to have loads of muscles, you know, like Brennan? I know you've been sick, but you really need to eat if you want to get fit enough to do that save the world stuff again."
He scowled at her, not liking the comparison even though he knew she was right about the eating bit. "What are you, my mother? No, I don't want anything to eat. And if I did, I know where the kitchen is."
"Well... if you're sure." She paused in the doorway, though, turning to ask a little too casually, "So, does Brennan have a girlfriend right now?"
Jesse almost choked on an inadvertently abrupt intake of air, eyes widening in astonishment at the question, but he managed to croak a feeble, "Brennan? Uh, no..." as he strove to prevent the onset of a full blown coughing fit.
"Cool!" Connie grinned, disappearing only to pop her head back into a view a few seconds later with a frown. "No, don't tell me he's gay," she pleaded forlornly.
This time there was nothing he could do to stop the wracking coughs almost doubling him over, the sharp slivers digging deep into his lungs bringing tears to the eyes he rolled her way as he shook his head helplessly.
"Knew he wasn't," she beamed, her smile faltering when he showed no signs of stopping. "Er, I think I'd better get you some water." She vanished, leaving him wrestling to get his breathing back under control.
And, unnoticed behind him, the lights blinked out once more.
**
The man in the black combats stared impassively down at the two inert forms lying at his feet.
There were other similarly clad men in varying states of awareness scattered about the surrounding area, those still on their feet assisting those of their colleagues who'd been disabled by these intruders – and with ease, if reports were to be believed. Many wouldn't, he knew, but no-one here was surprised by anything they saw any more - least of all him, especially given his own background.
Not that it had done the two much good – even their freakish abilities couldn't withstand the weight of numbers he'd been able to apply to the problem, and which had inevitably overwhelmed their resistance.
He ran a dispassionate eye over them, his trained mind automatically logging estimates of their height and weight, other physical characteristics - including their obviously high levels of fitness - ready for his report. But at the same time he was pondering matters affecting the security of his operation; issues such as how they'd gotten here when there was no sign of a car on the road, what they thought they were looking for, whether their disappearance would bring others in search of them... They were carrying no identification, which tended to rule out the likelihood of them being casual passers-by. Nothing but the matching silver rings worn on their right hands, rings that had become curiously featureless when he'd removed them.
Well, time would tell – as would they, once the drug they'd finally immobilised them with had worn off and he had the chance to interrogate them.
"Take them to the coops," he instructed the subordinate hovering behind him. "And make sure you get them properly yoked – I don't want them causing any more damage like this." He waved his hand around the scene, acknowledging the salute and curt, "Yes, sir," with a brief nod.
And as he watched his men carry them away, he murmured to himself, "I think Mr. DeSalles is going to enjoy seeing these two put down."
****