Hey guys, I'm sooooo sorry that it's been so long; I wanted to update, I really did, it's just that I had massive- and I mean massive- writer's block. So all I can do now is apologize and tell you that I have suddenly received a brainstorm so here it is.
I'm 16 in 6 days!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, here it is, thanks to all of you who actually stuck with it and continually reminded me that this fic existed.
-Jenn
6. Pieces Coming Together.
The phone rings suddenly, breaking the still silence with its shrill ring. It rings once, twice, but it is snatched up before the third ring can commence with the amazing quickness of a wrist which snaps as its fingers flip the phone open.
"Hello?" Her voice sounds the same, a little curious maybe but the cadence of her words is definitely normal and she doesn't seem to be in any hurry.
The voice on the other end of the line however, is.
The inquiry for Joey's Pizza is made as if the person on the other line is on his deathbed, filled with scary secrets that can only be opened by the pizza from Joey's and nowhere else. Intensity accompanies every syllable, making the two words weigh a ton each and making the phone suddenly seem heavy in her hand.
She puts the phone down before she loses her control and demands to know what's going on. Instead, she hangs up, knowing that her answer, or lack thereof, will be understood.
The groceries are left in their cart in the middle of aisle 4 at Ralphs, the doors are still open from her exit when her car goes flying out into the streets. The feeling of control that consumes her as she grips the wheel firmly is a complete façade, she knows this. She knows that if she, even for one second, lets go of the wheel or leans back in a more relaxed position she will break down in tears. Even though she does not yet know what is waiting for her, what information will have appeared, she can't help but feel that dark hollow echo that resonates within herself so deeply that she is unaware of where exactly it comes from.
She reaches the warehouse in record time and she can almost convince herself that the rubber of her tires is actually burning as she quickly locks her car door and practically runs through the old entrance.
"Eric," she leans over herself, breathless, speaking to the figure standing in the back of the warehouse. "What is it?"
Now that she is closer, she can see the whiteness of his face though she doesn't yet know what to make of it. Cautiously she reaches out an arm to gently touch him, an expression of concern and a little fright spread across her face.
But he shrugs off her hand from his arm and instead takes her arm and leads her in an adjoining room, the only light coming from the computer screen. The room is nearly bare, furnished only with a table and a chair. The table is cluttered with papers and pictures and the computer glows with the information already shown on it.
Without a word, he composes his face until it is unreadable and closes all the documents. Turning to her, he hands her the pictures and finally speaks. "Figure this out for yourself and let me know what you find. Go through it, spend as much time as you want, I've got you covered. Just… just let me know when you're through all right?"
She's never heard him sound like that before. It's almost a quality of desperation that frightens her but she doesn't know how to answer him so she merely takes his the pictures and nods slightly. She turns and to the desk and sits down, staring blankly at the empty white screen of the computer for a second before switching on the dim light and bending over the pictures, her fingers trembling ever so slightly with anticipation and fright of what she might find.
Sometime later, she hears Weiss leave and the door softly close but she doesn't look up. She is worried about what she might find.
You guys should definitely thank Secret Agent Girl because I would have "TBC'd" had it not been for her telling me to go on or die… well not die…I'm exaggerating
The first picture is familiar. An all too gaunt Vaughn is staring, the sheets are around him as he sits forlornly on the bed in his bare room, his hands making a slight sign while he looks left. Almost as if he is ashamed to be doing this. This picture is the same and tells her nothing; it is picture 7 and the only thing different is a red marking on the picture, a red mark circling a small dark spot on the sheet.
She strains but cannot make out what it is.
Turning to the next picture she sees the spot amplified. She sees now that they are words. A website.
She warily turns to the computer and logs on, typing the URL in and waiting. The minutes go by slowly and as she sits there softly drumming her fingers, listening for footsteps outside the door, she flips to the next picture. Only it isn't a picture. It's merely a note in Eric's handwriting, merely a list of stuff that he has jotted down apparently while he was looking through the website.
How did M make?
-precaution?
The "precaution" is crossed out with wild, erratic strokes and replaced with File 473.
Furrowing her brow she returns her attention to the computer screen. There is nothing there but a large picture of a man who looks eerily like Michael himself. The small caption underneath the picture states firmly "William Vaughn." That's it, there are no other words.
She doesn't understand why this is here, doesn't know why Michael would write this on his sheets and then, knowing that it would one day be found, only placed a picture of a loved one on the page. Unless…
She opens up the Artist's program from the browser, noting that Eric has also done this. She copies the picture onto the screen and leans forward in sudden concentration as she begins the tedious process of rearranging the pixels that make up this picture.
The first time that she lifts up that tiny square that makes up only a fraction of one corner, she gasps because she can see the beginning of a letter. It is then that she understands why Eric wanted her to find this for herself instead of saving hours and merely showing her what he himself had found. He did it to make sure that what he had found was correct and also so that she understood completely what she had found; the more they both knew and understood, they better they could work in sync.
And bring Vaughn home.
~:~
5 hours and no breaks later, she leans back to stretch her arms and her tired neck. She allows her eyes to close for a second to alleviate the burning sensation that is racing throughout her entire body, radiating from her eyes.
The letters are finally uncovered.
The code is here, waiting to be broken. Sydney looks at her watch and reminds herself to call home and tell Francie that she will be late or not come home at all before she leans over the code again. She prints out the letters and numbers that cover the screen and picks up the pad of paper and the pencil lying on the table. Two of the sheets are ripped out but all the others are still there.
And so it begins.
…3pu3/2pu3nwod1/1pu4nwod3…
B- RPC CS OEVUX - XXYMM LBEI CW XLW RZFEZ VC GJXINV JB XIN OFH.
QX TRBYTJWK JB RPC EO JGDRHFWX
J'V VFYPBLINRU OSS F.Z.
OXX NDGI CMNN PFOX
GRPF 12PU3/14PU3NWOD1/3PU4NWOD3 FET DRGRRJBLEM
AFXTFWIE
JQ XXVLRRH XR JC
LVAGSJWURBAMOR-
LVAVZ
EEVPLO
TBC… omg, you don't even know how long it took me to make this code… but it was fun so hopefully you guys will at least try to figure it out…
And if you do, you are welcome to praise yourself and tell the world in your review but please don't write what the message is
Thanks, love you all, sorry about the long wait.
-Jenn
