Protector of Men Ch 21
Zandra flipped open her phone, expecting something amiss. She was right.
"Zandra, get the hell out of there," came Kesia's urgent voice. Zandra was already at the door, kicking it open, looking at the scene in front of her.
"It always happens when you're gone," she said. It's only been twice now, Zandra silently reminded her. Still, it was appalling to see the detritus around her. There were pieces of rubble sprayed across the road in front of her, broken furniture decorated the streets. There was a smashed car in the distance, Zandra couldn't tell if there was anyone there, though.
"What happened?" she immediately asked. She surveyed the damage around her closely, looking for wounded, dead in the piles of material.
"They came right when you left, there were two agents,"
"Damn…"
"Believe me, Zandra, they need you now. They should be ahead of you – Alias needs help."
Zandra closed her phone and sprinted. The scene around her was chaotic – pieces of buildings knocked onto the ground, dust was still falling sporadically down to the ground. But perhaps her initial reaction had been too much. Though the destruction was intense, it was sparse and located in clumps. Whatever happened had happened quickly. Where to go, where to go…
She took a right where she saw another pile of rubble. Kesia had said Alias needed her, that probably meant that she was injured, incapacitated…
There she was. Alias lay in a heap on top of a small pile next to an alley, neatly hidden behind a sign. Zandra nicely but fiercely nudged her.
"Alias," she half-whispered, "Alias."
There was no answer, but she moved her hand a bit. At least she was conscious. Zandra picked her up and for a moment, pondered where to go. She couldn't reach her cellphone while holding Alias at the same time, so she ran for the phone that she had come in on. At least Alias wasn't heavy. It was relatively easy for her to get to the building that they had come through. And the building was close; it took her less than a minute to get through the door.
As she kicked in the door she heard footsteps scrunching the cobblestones behind her. She tried to pick up her pace as she ran to the room she had been in only minutes before…
There it was. It started ringing, thank you Kesia! She lay Alias on the ground and jammed the phone next to her ear, but nothing happened. Zandra turned around and found herself face to face with another agent. The air was silent; there was no dial tone – he must have broken the hard line. The agent simply stood where he was, obviously knowing that he held all the cards and savoring the moment. What could she do? Alias still lay where Zandra had put her – still incapacitated – she didn't even know what injuries might have befallen her…
"Ms. Richards," Brown said, a smile creeping onto his pallid face. Zandra remembered the guns she had on her. Two on the back, one on the front… nothing like last time.
"You're not going to shoot me this time," she called back, inching to her right. Just another inch…
"No," he stated, folding his arms behind his back, "I'm not."
What?
In one swift movement, the agent had her with her arms locked behind her back. She was sure that her arms were going to break if they were twisted any further, but he kept them firm in his grip. Brown moved his face close to hers. Zandra tried to get her face away, but he was too strong – she shuddered knowing that his face was so close to her own.
"I believe I can do much more," he whispered into her ear. Zandra struggled in an attempt to get out of his vice grip, but found herself unable to move. Alias was still on the ground, her hand lolling about as if it were a fish out of water. I'm sorry, Zandra thought. Brown guided her forcefully out of the room, out of the building, and across the way where a black car sat waiting. Waiting for her? He roughly threw her into the backseat as he climbed into the front. Jones sat in the driver's seat, and he too smiled a wan smile as she stared at the both of them.
"What the hell are you planning on doing?" she asked fiercely. She still felt powerful, knew she still had her guns.
"Oh, but then it wouldn't be a secret, Ms. Richards," said Jones, putting the car into Drive. The two agents looked at each other before leaving the mess of rubble behind them. She knew she wouldn't have much time before they were too far away from the group for her to get back quickly. Do it!
Zandra pulled out her gun and aimed at Jones. Brown instantly turned back to her with a concerned look on his face.
"Ms. Richards, I'm disappointed. Don't you think we would have thought of that?"
Zandra fired. Nothing happened. The gun simply didn't fire. She pulled out another one and tried that one, but it didn't work either. Brown smiled his stupid smile again.
"Ms. Richards, there's no way you can get out. We hold all the keys except for one… and we think you can tell us where that one is."
Zandra stared in wonder, keeping her face as stony as possible. They hold all the keys… Which probably meant that she couldn't get out of this one very easily. Zandra was having trouble keeping her thoughts straight. With two agents driving her away from her injured, possibly dead crew, she couldn't keep her mind on one thing at a time. Her thoughts kept going back to Alias, laying on the ground, needing her help… was this was the Oracle was talking about? We all have to suffer? Certainly she would have seen this coming. Then why didn't she warn her earlier? I'll be damned if she knew this was going to happen…
Zandra tried to concentrate. The car would be coded differently – it looked like an old POS from the outside, but she knew that the agents would have special coding for their transportation. Specially locked doors, reinforced steel and glass, it looked to her like there would be no way for her to get out lest she was able to terminate both agents while driving and get out of a crash alive. Too much, she'd try and escape when they got out of the car. Yes, that would be best. So they drove in silence for ten minutes before Jones broke it with his icy voice.
"Ms. Richards," he warned, "Silence will not help you."
"You want me to make noise?"
Brown laughed a cold laugh.
"I want you to stop planning because it won't work. The system has you locked."
Locked? What the hell did that mean? Sounded more like propaganda to her.
- "Right. Well as long as you need something from me, I'll be quiet as long as I need."
Brown stopped his smiling and snapped towards her.
"Ms. Richards, we will use you," he repeated, shifting in his chair so that he faced her completely. Zandra suddenly became very uneasy. His hand shot out to throttle her, but she was expecting it, and dodged his hand. She still felt the outside of his palm brushing her cheek. He pulled back his arm slowly, letting out a hiss, and turned back in his chair without another word. Jones pressed his fingers against his ear, revealing to Zandra an earpiece that she had not noticed earlier. They were probably connected to the system that Brown had mentioned earlier… that seemed to make sense.
Cover was still in the matrix, in the room that Alias had been placed in earlier. Alias was gone, and so was every other crew member from both Purgatory and the Calling, other than himself and Wrought. Wrought looked intensely pained – he had seen one of his crew members killed in front of his eyes, not to mention he had been shot in the arm himself. They had been understaffed before, and now that Pasiphae was gone, he only had one other crew member that he could take into the matrix. Cover had not lost any yet, but Alias was not looking good. Back in Purgatory Trim was desperately trying to remember the med procedures he had been taught months ago. Before Alias came, Trim was going to become the ship's medic – but with Alias injured, there was no one qualified to take care of her. In the meantime, Kesia had been on the line with the Mayflower's medic, trying not only to talk to Cover, but to simultaneously relay the difficult procedures to Trim. Trim was the star of the show – but it had turned out to be a much different role than which he had planned to play. His arms were soaked with Alias' blood as he desperately operated to save her. Cover understood that Kesia was trying to do two things at once, but was still urgent in his messages.
"Where is Zandra?" he asked into the cellphone. Wrought looked around obsessively, expecting another onslaught at any moment.
Cover walked over to the wall. Wrought wondered what had caused him so much distress – he was breathing deeply, his eyes shut pounded the wall fiercely.
"Okay," he replied, after being quiet for a few seconds. "Is she alive?"
He sighed what Wrought guessed was a breath of relief.
"Okay," he repeated again. "We'll go in after her." Cover closed the phone and looked at Wrought.
"What," he asked expectantly.
"Zandra's been taken by the agents," he answered, "but we can't get her now."
Wrought nodded, and gestured towards his arm. "We are all injured, save you."
Cover nodded too. "We'll need some more crew to help us."
"Will she survive until then?"
"We can only hope."
The phone rang.
"Go upstairs," Cover said, urging him to get out, "they'll be calling you now." Wrought nodded quickly and scampered up into the second room. Cover heard the phone fall on the floor as Wrought disappeared into the real world. The destruction was ended, but something altogether worse had begun.
"We are almost there," said Jones, turning from the cobbled road onto a paved street. Their surroundings were looking more civilized to Zandra, more like a normal suburban setting to her. She kept fidgeting in her seat, not only because of nerves, but hoping that they would not become suspicious of her silence. But in reality, she had let her nerves take over her body as she focused her mind. When they stopped the car, she would only have a few moments before she would be restrained again. She had to formulate a plan before they got her into a building, or wherever they were going to put her.
In fact, Zandra wasn't sure of what they were planning on doing to her, either. Maybe it had something to do with Neo – it probably did – but what would they make her do about that? Perhaps it would be an interrogation of sorts…
The car jerked to a halt in front of a suspiciously tall skyscraper.
"Alright Ms. Richards, we have arrived," said Brown before turning to get out of the car. She had a feeling that if he got the chance, he would be unnecessarily rough with her. Jones got out of the car first, and then Brown. Her chance was coming up.
