Homeward Bound
A/N this story previously appeared on ff.n using a different pen-name, but it is my story.
The suspect was slumped in a chair, his eyes sealed up because he had threatened to report Smith to his superiors for assault and wrongful arrest. Smith had asked him coldly,
"Can you remember what I look like with no eyes?" It was only a mind game. Smith knew that the man would wake up in his own home with no recollection of the events of today, but the powers that be enjoyed it when he played with the minds of his captives. Smith barked some orders to the other agents about returning the man to his home, and at five thirty sharp, he left the room. He went to his own office and filed his report for the day by picking up the phone and holding it to his ear. His eyes flickered in their sockets as data was transmitted across the wire.
Agent Jones entered the room at around 6pm.
"Any more orders Agent Smith?" he asked.
"No. Not for today. But I have some for tomorrow. You did take care of the school today." Smith asked nonchalantly.
"Yes. 30 children dead and Morpheus is going to be named on the evening news as the main suspect." Jones replied.
"Excellent. Soon he will not be welcome anywhere in the Matrix." Smith smiled slightly. "Tomorrow they want us to blow up another school. The information will be transmitted to you in due course. Be ready. I'm going to come with you on this one."
"Very well Smith." Jones nodded. The conversation ended there without a goodnight wish from either man.
Smith locked up his office and made his way deep down into the company car park. As he walked along the corridor and got into the lift, dropping 30 floors the true memory of the day literally disappeared, as he was reprogrammed to live his other life. He removed his dark glasses and his tie, leaving his shirt open slightly to show a faint hint of dark hair. By the time he reached the basement, he was Andrew Smith, an expert defender in Criminal Law. He had dealt with his clients with warmth and humour, was sure every case was winable. He had a good track record with his firm for which he was paid very well.
He drove out to the suburbs, to a large white clapperboard house, surrounded by shrubs and trees. The heat had set off the sprinklers, and he could see his two small children running through the spray, giggling joyfully. He pulled into the driveway slowly just in case they ran to meet him, and got out of the car.
"Hi daddy!" six-year-old Bethany called, her cute blonde curls bouncing in the early evening sunlight.
"Hi baby. Did you have a good day at school?" Andrew smiled, his finger pressing the remote locking system for the car. Bethany nodded. She loved school and was turning out to be very clever.
"Do it again, do it again!" shouted five-year-old Jamie. He never got tired of the sound of the bleep. Andrew indulged him by flicking the remote again and then again to lock the car.
"Where's Mommy?" he asked.
"She's lying down." Bethany told him. "On the sofa."
"Okay. I'll change and then I'll be out to shoot some hoops with you, okay?" The children nodded eagerly.
Andrew went into the house. Inside was a large hallway with a curved staircase, and to either side of the hallway, a bright, sunny lounge to the left, and a long elegant dining room to the right.
He took off his jacket and hung it in the hall closet. He looked towards the lounge, and saw Sherry lying on the sofa, with her feet up. She had a box of chocolates resting on her swollen belly, and her long blonde hair was splayed over a large cushion. She reminded him of a painting, fertile and beautiful. He went over and sat down on the edge of the couch, placing a loving, lingering kiss on her lips. She raised her head to meet him eagerly.
"Hello Mrs Smith." He smiled, his eyes full of love.
"Hello Mr Smith." Sherry smiled back.
"How is Smith number five this evening?" he asked, patting her belly, then stealing one of her chocolates. It earned him a playful slap on the wrists.
"Smith number five is fine. The doctor says I have to rest up though." She explained.
"Did he also prescribe the chocolates?" Andrew grinned wryly.
"Of course, any self-respecting doctor would." She twinkled.
"Do you want a cold drink honey?" he asked, thoughtfully. "Then I'll get the kids bathed and ready for bed and you and me can chill out a little."
"Mmm, that would be lovely." She agreed. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. "They've been on about Morpheus on the news again today." Sherry called through.
"They say he bombed a school. Can you believe it?"
"No." Andrew called back. "It's terrible. The sooner they catch him the better. I don't know what's wrong with the authorities. All the money we pay in taxes and they still can't bring this guy to book." He sounded no more interested than the average armchair philosopher.
"I just want our kids to grow up in a free, peaceful society." Sherry said from the kitchen doorway.
"Me too, honey." Andrew said, smiling wistfully. "But they've got us to take care of them and protect them from monsters like Morpheus."
"You...er....you had the nightmares again last night." Sherry told him. "Do you want to talk about it?" She moved towards him and put her arms around his waist.
"No...it's nothing. I guess I just shouldn't have had that cheese sandwich before bedtime." He said flippantly, kissing the tip of her nose.
"Was it exactly the same one?" she asked softly.
"Mm, the same one, where I'm hooked up to some machine and can't think for myself. Must be my mind telling me that bureaucracy has gone mad." He quipped. "If you'd seen all the forms I had to fill in today, you'd agree with me. So much for the age of computers. I sometimes think we'd be better of without them. Now go and sit down while I get supper and sort the kids out." He turned her around and gave her rear a playful squeeze.
"Anymore of that, and I'll forget I'm a pregnant mother of two and half." She said saucily.
"Later." He promised, winking at her.
True to his word, later that night, when the children were asleep, he held her close to him, nuzzling his face into her neck, delighting in her sweet smell.
Her full mouth found his, slipping her tongue between his lips, arching her body against him. Her hands trailed through the hairs on his chest and down beneath the covers to bring him to full arousal. Even pregnant, she excited him. He scraped a swollen nipple with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth while his fingers slid between her thighs, entering her gently. She moved against him, urging him to be more forceful in his touch as heat rose within them both. Taking care not to hurt her, he eased himself between her legs and entered her slowly, building up to a crescendo that left them both exhausted. He held her in his arms, kissing her passionately, whispering how much he loved her, how important she and the children were to him, how he would die for them all if he had to.
In the early hours of the morning a call came. One of his clients had been arrested. He left the warmth of her arms. She was never aware of him having gone when he returned home in time to make the children breakfast before dropping them off at school and going on to work. Even he truly believed at that moment that he had spent an hour or so at the night court, getting a drunk bailed . Much later that day, at his usual home time of 6.30pm, he pulled into the driveway. Police cars were parked outside.
"Where have you been?" Sherry came towards him, her face pale and shocked. "Where have you been?!" She thumped him in the chest several times then fell into his arms, and to the floor.
"What is it? Where are the children?" he asked, cradling her in his arms.
"I'm sorry Mr Smith." A police officer came forward. "We've been trying to contact you all day, but your secretary said you were out of the office. The terrorist Morpheus has planted another bomb. This time it was at your children's school. I'm sorry to tell you that Bethany and James were both killed in the blast."
His cry of anguish could be heard two blocks away.
The following day, he was interrogating another suspect, not even remembering the grief-stricken wife who waited at home for him, wondering why at this dreadful time her husband insisted on defending a drunken bum instead of comforting her.
A/N this story previously appeared on ff.n using a different pen-name, but it is my story.
The suspect was slumped in a chair, his eyes sealed up because he had threatened to report Smith to his superiors for assault and wrongful arrest. Smith had asked him coldly,
"Can you remember what I look like with no eyes?" It was only a mind game. Smith knew that the man would wake up in his own home with no recollection of the events of today, but the powers that be enjoyed it when he played with the minds of his captives. Smith barked some orders to the other agents about returning the man to his home, and at five thirty sharp, he left the room. He went to his own office and filed his report for the day by picking up the phone and holding it to his ear. His eyes flickered in their sockets as data was transmitted across the wire.
Agent Jones entered the room at around 6pm.
"Any more orders Agent Smith?" he asked.
"No. Not for today. But I have some for tomorrow. You did take care of the school today." Smith asked nonchalantly.
"Yes. 30 children dead and Morpheus is going to be named on the evening news as the main suspect." Jones replied.
"Excellent. Soon he will not be welcome anywhere in the Matrix." Smith smiled slightly. "Tomorrow they want us to blow up another school. The information will be transmitted to you in due course. Be ready. I'm going to come with you on this one."
"Very well Smith." Jones nodded. The conversation ended there without a goodnight wish from either man.
Smith locked up his office and made his way deep down into the company car park. As he walked along the corridor and got into the lift, dropping 30 floors the true memory of the day literally disappeared, as he was reprogrammed to live his other life. He removed his dark glasses and his tie, leaving his shirt open slightly to show a faint hint of dark hair. By the time he reached the basement, he was Andrew Smith, an expert defender in Criminal Law. He had dealt with his clients with warmth and humour, was sure every case was winable. He had a good track record with his firm for which he was paid very well.
He drove out to the suburbs, to a large white clapperboard house, surrounded by shrubs and trees. The heat had set off the sprinklers, and he could see his two small children running through the spray, giggling joyfully. He pulled into the driveway slowly just in case they ran to meet him, and got out of the car.
"Hi daddy!" six-year-old Bethany called, her cute blonde curls bouncing in the early evening sunlight.
"Hi baby. Did you have a good day at school?" Andrew smiled, his finger pressing the remote locking system for the car. Bethany nodded. She loved school and was turning out to be very clever.
"Do it again, do it again!" shouted five-year-old Jamie. He never got tired of the sound of the bleep. Andrew indulged him by flicking the remote again and then again to lock the car.
"Where's Mommy?" he asked.
"She's lying down." Bethany told him. "On the sofa."
"Okay. I'll change and then I'll be out to shoot some hoops with you, okay?" The children nodded eagerly.
Andrew went into the house. Inside was a large hallway with a curved staircase, and to either side of the hallway, a bright, sunny lounge to the left, and a long elegant dining room to the right.
He took off his jacket and hung it in the hall closet. He looked towards the lounge, and saw Sherry lying on the sofa, with her feet up. She had a box of chocolates resting on her swollen belly, and her long blonde hair was splayed over a large cushion. She reminded him of a painting, fertile and beautiful. He went over and sat down on the edge of the couch, placing a loving, lingering kiss on her lips. She raised her head to meet him eagerly.
"Hello Mrs Smith." He smiled, his eyes full of love.
"Hello Mr Smith." Sherry smiled back.
"How is Smith number five this evening?" he asked, patting her belly, then stealing one of her chocolates. It earned him a playful slap on the wrists.
"Smith number five is fine. The doctor says I have to rest up though." She explained.
"Did he also prescribe the chocolates?" Andrew grinned wryly.
"Of course, any self-respecting doctor would." She twinkled.
"Do you want a cold drink honey?" he asked, thoughtfully. "Then I'll get the kids bathed and ready for bed and you and me can chill out a little."
"Mmm, that would be lovely." She agreed. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. "They've been on about Morpheus on the news again today." Sherry called through.
"They say he bombed a school. Can you believe it?"
"No." Andrew called back. "It's terrible. The sooner they catch him the better. I don't know what's wrong with the authorities. All the money we pay in taxes and they still can't bring this guy to book." He sounded no more interested than the average armchair philosopher.
"I just want our kids to grow up in a free, peaceful society." Sherry said from the kitchen doorway.
"Me too, honey." Andrew said, smiling wistfully. "But they've got us to take care of them and protect them from monsters like Morpheus."
"You...er....you had the nightmares again last night." Sherry told him. "Do you want to talk about it?" She moved towards him and put her arms around his waist.
"No...it's nothing. I guess I just shouldn't have had that cheese sandwich before bedtime." He said flippantly, kissing the tip of her nose.
"Was it exactly the same one?" she asked softly.
"Mm, the same one, where I'm hooked up to some machine and can't think for myself. Must be my mind telling me that bureaucracy has gone mad." He quipped. "If you'd seen all the forms I had to fill in today, you'd agree with me. So much for the age of computers. I sometimes think we'd be better of without them. Now go and sit down while I get supper and sort the kids out." He turned her around and gave her rear a playful squeeze.
"Anymore of that, and I'll forget I'm a pregnant mother of two and half." She said saucily.
"Later." He promised, winking at her.
True to his word, later that night, when the children were asleep, he held her close to him, nuzzling his face into her neck, delighting in her sweet smell.
Her full mouth found his, slipping her tongue between his lips, arching her body against him. Her hands trailed through the hairs on his chest and down beneath the covers to bring him to full arousal. Even pregnant, she excited him. He scraped a swollen nipple with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth while his fingers slid between her thighs, entering her gently. She moved against him, urging him to be more forceful in his touch as heat rose within them both. Taking care not to hurt her, he eased himself between her legs and entered her slowly, building up to a crescendo that left them both exhausted. He held her in his arms, kissing her passionately, whispering how much he loved her, how important she and the children were to him, how he would die for them all if he had to.
In the early hours of the morning a call came. One of his clients had been arrested. He left the warmth of her arms. She was never aware of him having gone when he returned home in time to make the children breakfast before dropping them off at school and going on to work. Even he truly believed at that moment that he had spent an hour or so at the night court, getting a drunk bailed . Much later that day, at his usual home time of 6.30pm, he pulled into the driveway. Police cars were parked outside.
"Where have you been?" Sherry came towards him, her face pale and shocked. "Where have you been?!" She thumped him in the chest several times then fell into his arms, and to the floor.
"What is it? Where are the children?" he asked, cradling her in his arms.
"I'm sorry Mr Smith." A police officer came forward. "We've been trying to contact you all day, but your secretary said you were out of the office. The terrorist Morpheus has planted another bomb. This time it was at your children's school. I'm sorry to tell you that Bethany and James were both killed in the blast."
His cry of anguish could be heard two blocks away.
The following day, he was interrogating another suspect, not even remembering the grief-stricken wife who waited at home for him, wondering why at this dreadful time her husband insisted on defending a drunken bum instead of comforting her.