Disclaimer : ** See [Default Chapter] Page **
Rating : R
* * *
TITLE : Y451
BY: FLAMEIMMORTAL
CHAPTERS THREE-FOUR
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
Ari looked at them with wide eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump that had suddenly materialized in her throat.
"What about that underground thing?" Xander questioned, nodding toward Collins, who'd posed the subject toward them originally.
"The Base, as it has so been named by Schaffer and his acquaintances," Hernandez informed them, "is something of an anomaly to us as well."
"Didn't you get any information from the other agents?" Xander asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the tabletop.
"Of course we did," Hernandez replied rather indignantly, eyes narrowed as he watched Xander reproachfully. "We have the layout of the Base's entire complex, as well as a subsystem built beneath it. The entire complex is comprised of a metal alloy, stronger than steel and virtually radar proof." Before the agents had time to inquire upon that particular topic, Hernandez continued. "Our agents had been sending us information on the structure steadily throughout their entire time inside. It took us nearly a year to get them close enough to Schaffer to even gain entrance to the complex. They've only been inside for about a month and a half. Now, two weeks ago, we lost all contact with all the agents. We weren't sure whether this meant discovery or. . . something else.
"Then suddenly three of ours wind up in the middle of the James River down in Virginia. With a note, to beat all." Hernandez nodded to Collins, and another slide clicked into place.
It showed a worn piece of brown paper, torn on the edges and mottled with water stains from the murky water. In bold, black ink and capital letters, the note read :
" TO HE WHO COME FOR WATERS DEEP
LAY THEE NOW THY SOUL TO SLEEP
FOR WHEN HE SHOULD HAZARD DANGERS AFAR
MEET HE THEN THE DRAGONS OF CZAR "
"Guess they were serious about their 'stay the hell out' policy," Ari muttered softly under her breath, shaking her head at the message's clearly indicated tone. "But about the 'Dragons of Czar'? What does that mean?"
"We're hoping you'll be able to figure that out, too," Collins supplied.
"Whose handwriting is it?" Xander asked. "I mean, it's not cutouts or anything, can't they analyze that shit or something?"
"Our best bet is that it belongs to Schaffer or Carletti," Hernandez replied.
"So this place is located in Virginia? Isn't that a little far off for drug traffickers?" Ari inquired, still staring at the photograph of the ragged note, eyes darkened in deep thought.
"It's located directly beneath the city of Richmond," Collins stated, reclining in the hard chairs with his hands resting in his lap as he looked at them. "And actually it's a fairly decent location for him. He may not make quite as much money as he would in New York City or even Los Angeles, but Richmond is a city nonetheless with its fair share of drug addicts and the like. And he doesn't have to worry about stepping on anybody's toes by getting in on a bigger deal. He makes enough money down there to sustain him, and with Y451. . ." Collins shook his head. "He'll have it made financially as soon as he makes the deal."
"You will, however," Hernandez interjected, "Have to make sure that nothing happens to Ileitha MacPherson. She will remain under NSA protection until Schaffer is taken care of and with hope, all chemicals disposed of. Based on the last correspondence from our remaining agents, we believe that Ms. MacPherson is still very much one of Schaffer's major targets after this goes down."
"When do we start?" Ari asked, looking up at Gibbons and trying her best to stay calm despite the butterflies in her stomach. She was beginning to wonder if she was ready for this. . . She took a deep breath, determined. She could do this. She *would* do this."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Jen, I don't know if I can do this," Ari said into the small telephone receiver, running a hand absently through her short-cropped hair. She sat at the head of the short double bed Gibbons had provided for her in the generic room, her back propped up against the headboard. Staring into the mirror placed directly across the room on the opposite wall, she shook her head. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this. . ."
"C'mon, Ari!" the woman on other end of the telephone replied energetically. "Do you even remember all this shit you did in training? I mean, you're the best, Ari! Look who you're working with!"
"I know all that, Jenny," Ari responded, closing her eyes and sighing. "It just doesn't seem like the same. It's all so different than the training. This is. . . real."
"The day Ariana Versailles finds something she can't do is the day I declare myself the Easter bunny," Jenny laughed.
Ari smiled despite herself, giggling slightly at her friend's words.
"But you gotta tell me," Jenny insisted, her tone low in mock seriousness. "Is he hot?"
"Is who hot?"
"Ari, please!" Jenny pleaded, laughing all the while. "You know, *Xander Cage*! I mean I've seen pictures before, but in person. . . !"
"Well. . ." Ari trailed off, crossing her ankles and stretching on the bed. "Maybe a little hot."
"A little! Damn, are you picky all of a sudden! I'd like to see that man in boxers!" Jenny exclaimed.
Ari almost choked on her laughter at the picture.
"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it?" Jenny inquired. "I know you have, Ari. I know you better than yourself."
"Maybe, but nobody else needs to know that," Ari admitted quietly, glancing at the door as if somebody might be listening in. "Oh, hey, I gotta go, Jen. Gibbons only gave us till tomorrow morning and it's almost. . ." she glanced at the clock resting silently on the bedside table. "Ten o'clock now. I'd better get some sleep."
"Just don't get lonely," Jenny replied, and Ari could almost see the look on her friend's face.
"Very funny, Jen."
"See you soon, Ari," Jenny answered.
Ari said good night and hung up on the phone, the smile still playing at her lips. Maybe she could handle this. And just maybe she'd earn some respect from her partner in the process.
* * *
Xander lay on his stomach on the bed in his own room, head resting sideways on his arms. He stared at the clock on the dresser, watching the large, red digital letters change after each minute, counting the seconds. He'd have to get some sleep eventually if he were going to have any success in getting up the next morning.
But sleep seemed to be the one thing evading him at the moment. The only release he had from the tedious role he played in the NSA. Gibbons had finally given him a vacation-a real vacation-after his last mission, but it hadn't been something for him to enjoy.
Working kept his mind focused, kept it away from. . . from the wandering thoughts that so often plagued his dreams. He didn't know what he would do about Versailles. Gibbons knew, Gibbons fucking knew how he felt about working with a partner. Too often they could get in the way, could be compromised.
And partners die.
The thought crossed his mind almost of its own accord, and he pushed it back with a now familiar and practiced measure.
He could still see so clearly the first 'mission' Gibbons had ever sent him on. He remembered all the details from that waitress in heels to scratchy permanent marker that had streaked the word AHAB across the side of a chemical weapon in the middle of Prague. He still remembered her face that night in the alley when she'd thought he'd killed that Czech Five-Oh cop. That first kiss in the midst of the swaying music in Yorgi's club. That night in Bora Bora.
The blood that streaked her face as her deep eyes clouded over in death. The image of her murderer reflected in her glazed orbs.
"Goddamnit," he hissed, grabbing the pillow at the top of the bed roughly and flinging it across the room to hit the wall with a harmless 'thump.' He rolled over onto his back, one hand hanging limply over the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The warm wetness of salty tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he wiped at them with the back of his hand, cursing his own weakness. He didn't have time for this, he had to think. He had to focus for what was coming.
But fuck it all, why did she have to stay? She could have had anyone she wanted, anyone but him. Even before Gibbons his life hadn't been anything but a shot of adrenaline. Dangerous in its own right and illegal in just about every respect. Yelena wanted out of the world she'd been trapped in for so long, and he hadn't been able to take her away from it.
She didn't want his life, she didn't want any more of the excitement and danger that came with it. He couldn't let go. He couldn't leave behind that danger and excitement. . . It was all he knew, all he'd ever had. It was his life. And now it was her death.
She stayed for him, no one else. Just him. Now she didn't have a choice. They'd taken her away, too.
Now he was here. . . And he'd be damned if he was going to lose another one. He'd be damned if he'd let them do it again. Versailles was like a fucking kid. Just a fucking kid trying to grow up way too soon for her own good. She didn't need to go through that stage of her life with him.
He flipped back onto his stomach, closing his eyes wearily and trying to block out the world. If he couldn't focus then they could all end up getting killed. He'd already seen enough death for a lifetime.
Fuck the world. He almost didn't care anymore. Almost. Her image followed him everywhere. Guys like him weren't supposed to fall in love. And girls like her weren't supposed to love him back.
She would never leave him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget. Every time he closed his eyes, there she was, smiling back at him. Only to be replaced with the frighteningly empty gaze that marked a grim death. Her last words still rung through his mind as fresh as though they had been spoken mere moments ago.
** "Hold onto me, X. . . It's not cold anymore, Xander. They're calling me. . ." One arm weakly reached outward toward a vision only she could see, blood staining her pale skin, covering her body in a warm, sticky blanket of pain-filled existence. "It's. . . so warm. . . there. . ." she whispered, her voice fading with each syllable, her body already failing her. "We are safe now. . . in the light. . . my. . . love. . ." **
* * *
"I'm not second guessing you, Gibbons," Hernandez said dryly, sitting across from Gibbons in the small office.
Gibbons looked at Hernandez with raised eyebrows, leaning back in his office chair and patiently waiting for the man to continue.
"But I'm not sure he's ready to be back out in the field yet," Hernandez finished, arms crossed lightly over his chest as his eyes narrowed in thoughts. "You know as well as anybody else that Yelena's death hit him pretty hard, Gibs. And sure, he's an agent and all that, he knows the drill. . . But I think it takes more than a few weeks on some sandy beach to get over something like that."
"He can take it, Hernandez," Gibbons answered, appraising the other agent slowly, glancing down at the papers strewn about his desk. "He's going to have to get over it sometime."
"I'm just saying it's not that easy, is all," Hernandez replied. "Hell, Gibbons, he was downright suicidal after that incident. The way she was killed. . . and right there in front of him. That's not something anyone could just forget."
"He has a job to do," Gibbons insisted quietly. "And Versailles will be there."
Hernandez sighed, blew air through his lips as he rolled the words over in his mind. "I'm not sure he's in the state of mind to look out for her."
"She'll learn."
"And he's heading straight through depression and into the crash zone."
"He'll deal," Gibbons said simply, giving Hernandez a knowing look.
Hernandez shook his head and returned Gibbons' intense gaze with his own. "I know you care, Gibbons-I know you do, no matter how you portray yourself. And I also know that you've always got something in mind even when I think it's crazy as shit. But eventually he's going to crash, and he's gonna crash hard. I just hope he gets through this assignment before it happens."
Gibbons watched as Hernandez stood, dropped his hands in his coat pockets and stepped out of the office. Left alone to think in the silence, Gibbons furrowed his brow, fingers tapping lightly on the oaken desktop. Things would work out. Fate left no other choice.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
Author's Notes : Okay, say there's a little drama in this section. (I'm a sucker for a good dramatic piece, usually the more depressing the better.) This one is a little shorter than the first post, but I was itching to put up the next part:D And I'm already started working on the next updates with plenty of ideas for the rest of this story! I hope that you like this, and don't worry, we're going to get into some action before long. I had to get all the introductions and necessary background information for the plot underway. lol But, anyways, as always, read and review, I'm always glad for some help/ideas/whatever else you can think of!
Don't forget, Read & Review!
Thanks,
-FlameImmortal-
Rating : R
* * *
TITLE : Y451
BY: FLAMEIMMORTAL
CHAPTERS THREE-FOUR
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
Ari looked at them with wide eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump that had suddenly materialized in her throat.
"What about that underground thing?" Xander questioned, nodding toward Collins, who'd posed the subject toward them originally.
"The Base, as it has so been named by Schaffer and his acquaintances," Hernandez informed them, "is something of an anomaly to us as well."
"Didn't you get any information from the other agents?" Xander asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the tabletop.
"Of course we did," Hernandez replied rather indignantly, eyes narrowed as he watched Xander reproachfully. "We have the layout of the Base's entire complex, as well as a subsystem built beneath it. The entire complex is comprised of a metal alloy, stronger than steel and virtually radar proof." Before the agents had time to inquire upon that particular topic, Hernandez continued. "Our agents had been sending us information on the structure steadily throughout their entire time inside. It took us nearly a year to get them close enough to Schaffer to even gain entrance to the complex. They've only been inside for about a month and a half. Now, two weeks ago, we lost all contact with all the agents. We weren't sure whether this meant discovery or. . . something else.
"Then suddenly three of ours wind up in the middle of the James River down in Virginia. With a note, to beat all." Hernandez nodded to Collins, and another slide clicked into place.
It showed a worn piece of brown paper, torn on the edges and mottled with water stains from the murky water. In bold, black ink and capital letters, the note read :
" TO HE WHO COME FOR WATERS DEEP
LAY THEE NOW THY SOUL TO SLEEP
FOR WHEN HE SHOULD HAZARD DANGERS AFAR
MEET HE THEN THE DRAGONS OF CZAR "
"Guess they were serious about their 'stay the hell out' policy," Ari muttered softly under her breath, shaking her head at the message's clearly indicated tone. "But about the 'Dragons of Czar'? What does that mean?"
"We're hoping you'll be able to figure that out, too," Collins supplied.
"Whose handwriting is it?" Xander asked. "I mean, it's not cutouts or anything, can't they analyze that shit or something?"
"Our best bet is that it belongs to Schaffer or Carletti," Hernandez replied.
"So this place is located in Virginia? Isn't that a little far off for drug traffickers?" Ari inquired, still staring at the photograph of the ragged note, eyes darkened in deep thought.
"It's located directly beneath the city of Richmond," Collins stated, reclining in the hard chairs with his hands resting in his lap as he looked at them. "And actually it's a fairly decent location for him. He may not make quite as much money as he would in New York City or even Los Angeles, but Richmond is a city nonetheless with its fair share of drug addicts and the like. And he doesn't have to worry about stepping on anybody's toes by getting in on a bigger deal. He makes enough money down there to sustain him, and with Y451. . ." Collins shook his head. "He'll have it made financially as soon as he makes the deal."
"You will, however," Hernandez interjected, "Have to make sure that nothing happens to Ileitha MacPherson. She will remain under NSA protection until Schaffer is taken care of and with hope, all chemicals disposed of. Based on the last correspondence from our remaining agents, we believe that Ms. MacPherson is still very much one of Schaffer's major targets after this goes down."
"When do we start?" Ari asked, looking up at Gibbons and trying her best to stay calm despite the butterflies in her stomach. She was beginning to wonder if she was ready for this. . . She took a deep breath, determined. She could do this. She *would* do this."
CHAPTER FOUR
"Jen, I don't know if I can do this," Ari said into the small telephone receiver, running a hand absently through her short-cropped hair. She sat at the head of the short double bed Gibbons had provided for her in the generic room, her back propped up against the headboard. Staring into the mirror placed directly across the room on the opposite wall, she shook her head. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this. . ."
"C'mon, Ari!" the woman on other end of the telephone replied energetically. "Do you even remember all this shit you did in training? I mean, you're the best, Ari! Look who you're working with!"
"I know all that, Jenny," Ari responded, closing her eyes and sighing. "It just doesn't seem like the same. It's all so different than the training. This is. . . real."
"The day Ariana Versailles finds something she can't do is the day I declare myself the Easter bunny," Jenny laughed.
Ari smiled despite herself, giggling slightly at her friend's words.
"But you gotta tell me," Jenny insisted, her tone low in mock seriousness. "Is he hot?"
"Is who hot?"
"Ari, please!" Jenny pleaded, laughing all the while. "You know, *Xander Cage*! I mean I've seen pictures before, but in person. . . !"
"Well. . ." Ari trailed off, crossing her ankles and stretching on the bed. "Maybe a little hot."
"A little! Damn, are you picky all of a sudden! I'd like to see that man in boxers!" Jenny exclaimed.
Ari almost choked on her laughter at the picture.
"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it?" Jenny inquired. "I know you have, Ari. I know you better than yourself."
"Maybe, but nobody else needs to know that," Ari admitted quietly, glancing at the door as if somebody might be listening in. "Oh, hey, I gotta go, Jen. Gibbons only gave us till tomorrow morning and it's almost. . ." she glanced at the clock resting silently on the bedside table. "Ten o'clock now. I'd better get some sleep."
"Just don't get lonely," Jenny replied, and Ari could almost see the look on her friend's face.
"Very funny, Jen."
"See you soon, Ari," Jenny answered.
Ari said good night and hung up on the phone, the smile still playing at her lips. Maybe she could handle this. And just maybe she'd earn some respect from her partner in the process.
* * *
Xander lay on his stomach on the bed in his own room, head resting sideways on his arms. He stared at the clock on the dresser, watching the large, red digital letters change after each minute, counting the seconds. He'd have to get some sleep eventually if he were going to have any success in getting up the next morning.
But sleep seemed to be the one thing evading him at the moment. The only release he had from the tedious role he played in the NSA. Gibbons had finally given him a vacation-a real vacation-after his last mission, but it hadn't been something for him to enjoy.
Working kept his mind focused, kept it away from. . . from the wandering thoughts that so often plagued his dreams. He didn't know what he would do about Versailles. Gibbons knew, Gibbons fucking knew how he felt about working with a partner. Too often they could get in the way, could be compromised.
And partners die.
The thought crossed his mind almost of its own accord, and he pushed it back with a now familiar and practiced measure.
He could still see so clearly the first 'mission' Gibbons had ever sent him on. He remembered all the details from that waitress in heels to scratchy permanent marker that had streaked the word AHAB across the side of a chemical weapon in the middle of Prague. He still remembered her face that night in the alley when she'd thought he'd killed that Czech Five-Oh cop. That first kiss in the midst of the swaying music in Yorgi's club. That night in Bora Bora.
The blood that streaked her face as her deep eyes clouded over in death. The image of her murderer reflected in her glazed orbs.
"Goddamnit," he hissed, grabbing the pillow at the top of the bed roughly and flinging it across the room to hit the wall with a harmless 'thump.' He rolled over onto his back, one hand hanging limply over the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
The warm wetness of salty tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he wiped at them with the back of his hand, cursing his own weakness. He didn't have time for this, he had to think. He had to focus for what was coming.
But fuck it all, why did she have to stay? She could have had anyone she wanted, anyone but him. Even before Gibbons his life hadn't been anything but a shot of adrenaline. Dangerous in its own right and illegal in just about every respect. Yelena wanted out of the world she'd been trapped in for so long, and he hadn't been able to take her away from it.
She didn't want his life, she didn't want any more of the excitement and danger that came with it. He couldn't let go. He couldn't leave behind that danger and excitement. . . It was all he knew, all he'd ever had. It was his life. And now it was her death.
She stayed for him, no one else. Just him. Now she didn't have a choice. They'd taken her away, too.
Now he was here. . . And he'd be damned if he was going to lose another one. He'd be damned if he'd let them do it again. Versailles was like a fucking kid. Just a fucking kid trying to grow up way too soon for her own good. She didn't need to go through that stage of her life with him.
He flipped back onto his stomach, closing his eyes wearily and trying to block out the world. If he couldn't focus then they could all end up getting killed. He'd already seen enough death for a lifetime.
Fuck the world. He almost didn't care anymore. Almost. Her image followed him everywhere. Guys like him weren't supposed to fall in love. And girls like her weren't supposed to love him back.
She would never leave him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget. Every time he closed his eyes, there she was, smiling back at him. Only to be replaced with the frighteningly empty gaze that marked a grim death. Her last words still rung through his mind as fresh as though they had been spoken mere moments ago.
** "Hold onto me, X. . . It's not cold anymore, Xander. They're calling me. . ." One arm weakly reached outward toward a vision only she could see, blood staining her pale skin, covering her body in a warm, sticky blanket of pain-filled existence. "It's. . . so warm. . . there. . ." she whispered, her voice fading with each syllable, her body already failing her. "We are safe now. . . in the light. . . my. . . love. . ." **
* * *
"I'm not second guessing you, Gibbons," Hernandez said dryly, sitting across from Gibbons in the small office.
Gibbons looked at Hernandez with raised eyebrows, leaning back in his office chair and patiently waiting for the man to continue.
"But I'm not sure he's ready to be back out in the field yet," Hernandez finished, arms crossed lightly over his chest as his eyes narrowed in thoughts. "You know as well as anybody else that Yelena's death hit him pretty hard, Gibs. And sure, he's an agent and all that, he knows the drill. . . But I think it takes more than a few weeks on some sandy beach to get over something like that."
"He can take it, Hernandez," Gibbons answered, appraising the other agent slowly, glancing down at the papers strewn about his desk. "He's going to have to get over it sometime."
"I'm just saying it's not that easy, is all," Hernandez replied. "Hell, Gibbons, he was downright suicidal after that incident. The way she was killed. . . and right there in front of him. That's not something anyone could just forget."
"He has a job to do," Gibbons insisted quietly. "And Versailles will be there."
Hernandez sighed, blew air through his lips as he rolled the words over in his mind. "I'm not sure he's in the state of mind to look out for her."
"She'll learn."
"And he's heading straight through depression and into the crash zone."
"He'll deal," Gibbons said simply, giving Hernandez a knowing look.
Hernandez shook his head and returned Gibbons' intense gaze with his own. "I know you care, Gibbons-I know you do, no matter how you portray yourself. And I also know that you've always got something in mind even when I think it's crazy as shit. But eventually he's going to crash, and he's gonna crash hard. I just hope he gets through this assignment before it happens."
Gibbons watched as Hernandez stood, dropped his hands in his coat pockets and stepped out of the office. Left alone to think in the silence, Gibbons furrowed his brow, fingers tapping lightly on the oaken desktop. Things would work out. Fate left no other choice.
* * *
TO BE CONTINUED. . .
Author's Notes : Okay, say there's a little drama in this section. (I'm a sucker for a good dramatic piece, usually the more depressing the better.) This one is a little shorter than the first post, but I was itching to put up the next part:D And I'm already started working on the next updates with plenty of ideas for the rest of this story! I hope that you like this, and don't worry, we're going to get into some action before long. I had to get all the introductions and necessary background information for the plot underway. lol But, anyways, as always, read and review, I'm always glad for some help/ideas/whatever else you can think of!
Don't forget, Read & Review!
Thanks,
-FlameImmortal-