PART 2
There was a light on in the Smith Household. It was in a guest bedroom down the hall from Roger's on bedroom. Roger Smith himself was currently seated in this guestroom, his head in his hands. His coat was draped on the chair behind him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
He was sitting next to the bed, whose current occupant did not seem well at all. Angel had been lapsing in and out of consciousness as Roger had driven back to his home, and after Norman had administered some drugs to help numb her pain, she had fallen into a deep sleep and had yet to awaken. An oxygen mask helped force air into her broken body. An intravenous needle stuck in her arm, slowly dripping the painkillers into her body, otherwise she would not be able to sleep as peacefully as this. A heart monitor kept track of her weak heartbeat.
Norman stepped into the room and checked her pulse. He then placed a digital thermometer into her ear, checked her body temperature. He shook his head.
"How is she doing, Norman?" Roger asked as he watched.
"Not very well, I'm afraid" Norman responded gravely. "A great deal of blood was lost. She suffered several broken bones, including both her legs and a rib, which pierced her lung. She also has a severe concussion. But, she is a strong girl. She is managing to hang on. The next few days will be crucial." Norman inserted a fresh intravenous feeding bag and left.
Roger sati, watching Angel as she slept. He sighed and balanced his chin in his palm.
"Angel..." he thought aloud, "How did you get into trouble this time?" He stood up and strode across the room, staring out the window, gazing out at the bright lights of the Paradigm skyline. Somewhere out there, there was a person who had tried to kill this woman. He wondered who they were, why did they do this, how did she bring their anger down on herself? Angel was easily the most troublesome woman Roger had ever known, but she was also the most cautious, and usually came prepared for whatever situation would arise. But it seemed that this time she had been caught totally off guard. Who could have gotten the drop on her like this?
"Master Roger" Norman said from the doorway, breaking Roger away from his thoughts. "Colonel Dastun is here to see you. He is waiting in your office."
Dastun hunched over Roger's desk, examining some of the hourglasses. Why Roger collected these strange things was beyond him.
"Dastun" Roger said as he came down the staircase. "What brings you here at this hour?"
"Just wonder if you know anything about this" Dastun replied as he turned to face Roger. He held up his arm, and clutched in his hand was a banged up license plate. It was a vanity plate, white bordered in pink, and the pink letters read ANGEL. Roger stepped forward, took it from Dastun and examined it.
"Well, I've seen it before, if that is what you are asking me. How did you come by it?" Roger said, doing a remarkable job of keeping his cool in light of this development.
"Some officers responded to a security alarm at a downtown florist shop. They said when they got there that the place was all smashed up, and they found a wrecked motorcycle not too far from the scene. They took that off it." Now Dastun narrowed his eyes, his tone became super-serious. He focused his gaze on Roger's face, trying to read his expressions. "Has she tried to contact you, Roger?"
"I haven't seen her for weeks now. I'm afraid I can't help you here, Dastun."
"We only have one witness," Dastun continued, ignoring Roger's denials. "She lives in that area. She said she heard the sound of someone racing down the street right near her apartment, and then she heard a woman screaming. If she was on that thing when it got trashed, Roger, then she's in really bad shape right now. If she tries to contact you, for any purpose..."
"You'll be the first to know, of course." Dastun chortled, not believing a word of it. Paradigm's Top Negotiator had kept secrets from him in the past, something he doubted would change anytime soon. "Well, I guess there's not much more I can ask of you. Say, you wouldn't happen to have that bottle we opened last time around, would you?"
"Sorry, but I'm not in the mood for a drink right now" Roger said, shrugging slightly. "I just want to get to bed."
"Pity. Well, guess I'll see you around. Don't be a stranger, Roger." Dastun said, saluting him briefly before he left. Roger remained, standing alone in his office, considering what he should do next.
"Are you kidding me?" Beck Gold whined. He took a swig from the bottle of cheap liquor this man had bought him to help in their bargaining, and then passed it to his cronies, who were seated in the back seat of the car.
"I am quite serious" the stranger said, his voice perfectly monotone. His hands remained on the steering wheel, as if ready to take off at any moment. Beck kept a close eye on that, ready to leap from the car if it started moving.
"I told you already, committing the same crime more than once is not my style. Besides, I've been humiliated by Roger Smith enough times. I'm trying to keep my distance from him from now on."
"You needn't fear Roger Smith" came the response. "When the timing is right, I will deal with him personally."
"Oh, a tough guy, huh?" said Alexis, Beck's current squeeze from the back seat. Beck waved for her to be quiet, he was in the middle of business.
"You think you can take care of him, huh? You capable of backing up those words, pal?"
The stranger reached into the back of the car, grabbing the bottle away from Alexis mid-swig. He held his arm out the window, and promptly broke the bottle to pieces in his own hand. "Okay, okay, I get the picture!" Beck said, waving his hands in front of him while the stranger wiped his hand off with a handkerchief.
"I am not asking you to kidnap Dorothy Wayneright" he said as he cleaned himself off, "You merely need to make the arrangements for her to be at the Wayneright Mansion at the time I have specified."
"What's so special about that old place, huh?" Beck said. When he received no reply, he decided to go another direction. "And, payment would be..."
"You will be amply rewarded with memories straight from the journals of Timothy Wayneright and Miguel Solderno."
"You serious?" Beck said, his interest truly perked now. "You have their journals?" Again, he received no response. "Hm...maybe while I'm at it Dorothy and I can get reacquainted. I'd savor the chance to fool around with her circuitry again..." he chuckled to himself.
Now, the stranger responded. He grew tense, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. His eyes narrowed, though they remained facing forward. He spoke now in a strained, irritated voice.
"If Dorothy is in any way harmed, Beck, then I will peel you like an onion; layer by layer." He placed one hand down on the dashboard and tore the leather upholstery away from it. Beck gulped.
"Hey, I was just kidding. So, when do we start?"
"Effective immediately."
There was a light on in the Smith Household. It was in a guest bedroom down the hall from Roger's on bedroom. Roger Smith himself was currently seated in this guestroom, his head in his hands. His coat was draped on the chair behind him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
He was sitting next to the bed, whose current occupant did not seem well at all. Angel had been lapsing in and out of consciousness as Roger had driven back to his home, and after Norman had administered some drugs to help numb her pain, she had fallen into a deep sleep and had yet to awaken. An oxygen mask helped force air into her broken body. An intravenous needle stuck in her arm, slowly dripping the painkillers into her body, otherwise she would not be able to sleep as peacefully as this. A heart monitor kept track of her weak heartbeat.
Norman stepped into the room and checked her pulse. He then placed a digital thermometer into her ear, checked her body temperature. He shook his head.
"How is she doing, Norman?" Roger asked as he watched.
"Not very well, I'm afraid" Norman responded gravely. "A great deal of blood was lost. She suffered several broken bones, including both her legs and a rib, which pierced her lung. She also has a severe concussion. But, she is a strong girl. She is managing to hang on. The next few days will be crucial." Norman inserted a fresh intravenous feeding bag and left.
Roger sati, watching Angel as she slept. He sighed and balanced his chin in his palm.
"Angel..." he thought aloud, "How did you get into trouble this time?" He stood up and strode across the room, staring out the window, gazing out at the bright lights of the Paradigm skyline. Somewhere out there, there was a person who had tried to kill this woman. He wondered who they were, why did they do this, how did she bring their anger down on herself? Angel was easily the most troublesome woman Roger had ever known, but she was also the most cautious, and usually came prepared for whatever situation would arise. But it seemed that this time she had been caught totally off guard. Who could have gotten the drop on her like this?
"Master Roger" Norman said from the doorway, breaking Roger away from his thoughts. "Colonel Dastun is here to see you. He is waiting in your office."
Dastun hunched over Roger's desk, examining some of the hourglasses. Why Roger collected these strange things was beyond him.
"Dastun" Roger said as he came down the staircase. "What brings you here at this hour?"
"Just wonder if you know anything about this" Dastun replied as he turned to face Roger. He held up his arm, and clutched in his hand was a banged up license plate. It was a vanity plate, white bordered in pink, and the pink letters read ANGEL. Roger stepped forward, took it from Dastun and examined it.
"Well, I've seen it before, if that is what you are asking me. How did you come by it?" Roger said, doing a remarkable job of keeping his cool in light of this development.
"Some officers responded to a security alarm at a downtown florist shop. They said when they got there that the place was all smashed up, and they found a wrecked motorcycle not too far from the scene. They took that off it." Now Dastun narrowed his eyes, his tone became super-serious. He focused his gaze on Roger's face, trying to read his expressions. "Has she tried to contact you, Roger?"
"I haven't seen her for weeks now. I'm afraid I can't help you here, Dastun."
"We only have one witness," Dastun continued, ignoring Roger's denials. "She lives in that area. She said she heard the sound of someone racing down the street right near her apartment, and then she heard a woman screaming. If she was on that thing when it got trashed, Roger, then she's in really bad shape right now. If she tries to contact you, for any purpose..."
"You'll be the first to know, of course." Dastun chortled, not believing a word of it. Paradigm's Top Negotiator had kept secrets from him in the past, something he doubted would change anytime soon. "Well, I guess there's not much more I can ask of you. Say, you wouldn't happen to have that bottle we opened last time around, would you?"
"Sorry, but I'm not in the mood for a drink right now" Roger said, shrugging slightly. "I just want to get to bed."
"Pity. Well, guess I'll see you around. Don't be a stranger, Roger." Dastun said, saluting him briefly before he left. Roger remained, standing alone in his office, considering what he should do next.
"Are you kidding me?" Beck Gold whined. He took a swig from the bottle of cheap liquor this man had bought him to help in their bargaining, and then passed it to his cronies, who were seated in the back seat of the car.
"I am quite serious" the stranger said, his voice perfectly monotone. His hands remained on the steering wheel, as if ready to take off at any moment. Beck kept a close eye on that, ready to leap from the car if it started moving.
"I told you already, committing the same crime more than once is not my style. Besides, I've been humiliated by Roger Smith enough times. I'm trying to keep my distance from him from now on."
"You needn't fear Roger Smith" came the response. "When the timing is right, I will deal with him personally."
"Oh, a tough guy, huh?" said Alexis, Beck's current squeeze from the back seat. Beck waved for her to be quiet, he was in the middle of business.
"You think you can take care of him, huh? You capable of backing up those words, pal?"
The stranger reached into the back of the car, grabbing the bottle away from Alexis mid-swig. He held his arm out the window, and promptly broke the bottle to pieces in his own hand. "Okay, okay, I get the picture!" Beck said, waving his hands in front of him while the stranger wiped his hand off with a handkerchief.
"I am not asking you to kidnap Dorothy Wayneright" he said as he cleaned himself off, "You merely need to make the arrangements for her to be at the Wayneright Mansion at the time I have specified."
"What's so special about that old place, huh?" Beck said. When he received no reply, he decided to go another direction. "And, payment would be..."
"You will be amply rewarded with memories straight from the journals of Timothy Wayneright and Miguel Solderno."
"You serious?" Beck said, his interest truly perked now. "You have their journals?" Again, he received no response. "Hm...maybe while I'm at it Dorothy and I can get reacquainted. I'd savor the chance to fool around with her circuitry again..." he chuckled to himself.
Now, the stranger responded. He grew tense, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel. His eyes narrowed, though they remained facing forward. He spoke now in a strained, irritated voice.
"If Dorothy is in any way harmed, Beck, then I will peel you like an onion; layer by layer." He placed one hand down on the dashboard and tore the leather upholstery away from it. Beck gulped.
"Hey, I was just kidding. So, when do we start?"
"Effective immediately."