I would like to thank Granger and Michelle for all of their kind words and beta testing this chapter…. I would also like to thank all of the fans who have read my story and given their kind opinion of it… Michelle told me the other day that this story has taken on a life of its own and I believe she is very right…
Hope you enjoy the story, and all opinions or critiques are accepted and appreciated.
Now on with the show…
CHAPTER 13
Susan had been awake since her earlier panic attack. After Talia's evaporation, the brunette was unsure how long she just lay there while tears saturated her blindfold, and ran down her cheeks. At the time, Talia had seemed so real… Susan would have sworn on her life that she felt the tender caresses of Talia's hands on her shivering body, and her whispered words touch her frightened soul, seeking to soothe away her panic. She hated to think about what she might have done to herself if Talia had not come to her.
'Talia… Honey… I needed you so badly… Did you really come to me, or…' Susan began to wonder if she had somehow telepathically reached out to Talia, or Talia to her. After a few minutes of contemplation, Susan decided she was really losing her grasp on reality. She laughed at such a thought.
Her mother's had been the only mind she had ever been able to mentally touch, and only when her mother initiated contact first. Since her mother's death, Susan's latent abilities had allowed her to sense any attempts at mental intrusion and to put up a mental barrier to block the invasion, but nothing more.
The commander's musings were interrupted when she heard the hiss of a door as it opened, and then, a few seconds later, she assumed that she heard it hiss close. She listened intently and heard nothing more… Wait… There was a new sound… Someone was there. She heard them slowly breathing in and out. The sounds of breathing were distant, and it did not draw any closer.
It seemed like an eternity passed as she listened. The only sound she heard was someone breathing. She could imagine whoever it was, was watching her; planning what to do to her. It began to grate on her already frayed nerves. Susan felt her panic returning in full force. The darkness that surrounded her seemed to press in on her. It became hard for her to breathe. She felt like she was drowning. But then Talia's words echoed within her. 'Hold onto my love… Let it be your anchor… your calm place in the raging storm that surrounds you…' Susan clung to these words as she tried once again to take a full breath, and push the darkness away. Talia's words, whispered with love and encouragement, gave Susan strength and filled her to overflowing with love. Calmness ensued. Her military training took over, and all lingering fear dissipated.
'I am a woman, a soldier, and a Commander in EarthForce, Damn it. It's time I started to ask like one,', she berated herself.
Straightening her shoulders, Susan took a deep breath, and slowly released it. Her calmness sharpened her senses as she tried to 'sense' the person or persons that had now entered her domain. The sound of the breathing pattern seemed to indicate that there was only one person in the room. Slow, but determined steps echoed as they approached her. As the intruder drew close, Susan smelled expensive, male cologne, and heard the footsteps echo in the room as her position was circled. Her bonds prevented her from moving to get a better feel for her captor. She sensed someone stop near her right shoulder.
Still no verbal contact. Susan recognized the tactic, and had used it herself upon occasion. It was supposed to unnerve the prisoner. Once again, she tightly grasped onto Talia's love, and her calmness remained as she waited… and waited… and waited. She jumped slightly when she felt cold, smooth steel against her right cheek. It felt like a knife. She forced herself to not flinch or try to turn away. She felt the sharp point graze along her cheek and down her neck to her pulse point before it was gone. She felt a pull against her EarthForce jacket as if something pulled against the top button before it gave, and she heard the button hit the floor. Methodically, the intruder repeated the same procedure to the remaining buttons until she felt the jacket sag open. The same thing was done to her shirt and her pant's snap. Next, she felt the knife move along the inseams of her pants, panties, and bra clasp. All of her clothes were lifted off of her. The coolness of the room caused goosebumps to appear. Susan bit on the plug in her mouth to keep from squirming. This setting now reminded her of one of the scenarios she had gone through as part of her training. She consciously tried to conserve her energy and wait for her opportunity… her opportunity to escape.
She felt warm breath against her right ear. For the first time her intruder spoke. It was a human sounding voice. "Well, well, well, Suzotchka 'Susan' Katiana Ivanova of the Russian Consortium… Commander in the service of EarthForce… Second In Command on Earth Station Babylon 5… Long time no see… Well, actually, I am the only one that can see…" His sarcastic laugh chilled her to the bone. Cold fingers stroked along her cheek. Without conscious thought, she attempted to turn her head away from the touch… a vile touch.
He laughed again.
Susan realized then that she had moved away from the touch, and forcefully moved her face back to center. This time, she lay impassively as he once again glided his fingers along her cheek to her jawline. A hand grasped her chin and jerked her head to the right. She gritted her teeth, and took several rapid breaths, as she forced back the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. Once she calmed her rolling stomach, Susan realized her intruder had now restrained her face firmly against the surface that she lay on. The strap smelled and felt like the one that covered her mouth. To test the restraint, she attempted to move her head, and found it to be as secure as her other bonds. She returned to laying impassive in them.
"I see you have figured it out, Commander. You cannot move unless I allow it. You're a gift to myself, and as such, you're mine to do with as I will. Your old life is gone forever, and your new life exists only to pleasure me… for as long as I let you live…" This time she felt his touch as it moved across her gag, He stopped, and then, for a few moments, he pushed in and pulled out on the plug in her mouth. Several times he pushed it so deep that it threatened to gag her. She began to think that gagging her was his goal. Again, she tightened her grasp on Talia's words, and remained calm… breathing when she could. Her action, or rather her inaction, seemed to aggravate her captor, for she felt her left breast grasped and squeezed tightly. Soon the pain became unbearable, and her breaths came in short gasps as tears flooded her eyes. She was unable to stop her body's attempt to move from his grasp.
Sarcastic laughter was once again heard before he released her.
Susan couldn't decide which she hated worse, him or his laughter. She struggled to get her breathing and emotions under control. She blinked several times attempting to keep the tears she felt from spilling over. For the first time, she was glad for the blindfold, and the gag. They kept 'him' from seeing, or hearing… her weaknesses.
Susan felt his warm breath against her right ear. "You have cost me so much. It is time I repay your… kindness." There was a sting of a hypo-spray as it injected something into her. "This will help you to keep no secrets from me." Silence once again filled the room. It was broken as she heard a door hiss open. "I'll be back for you, Commander. That I promise," he stated before the door hissed close.
Struggle as she might, Susan could tell the drug was overwhelming her attempts to stay conscious. As she drifted off to sleep, she mentally cried, 'Talia, where are you?!?'' Her anguish was nearly palpable. 'My love, please, oh please, find me!!!''
------------------------------------------------
Lou Welch arrived at the Black Pearl just ten minutes behind his Chief. Gibbs, his temporary replacement, or so it seemed, had arrive outside of Ms. Winters quarters just after he had returned to his post, and returned to his prowling of the hallway.
"Gibbs, what's up?" Lou asked. He knew it was too soon for his protection shift to end. He glanced at his com-link and found it was still functional. Dread filled him. He hoped this wasn't bad news.
"Don't know, Lou. The Chief called Zack and requested that you meet him at the Black Pearl once your replacement arrived…" Tapping his chest, Gibbs continued with a grin, "That's me… your replacement." The young rookie winked at the Sergeant.
'Smart ass as always,' Lou thought as he relaxed a little. He knew the Black Pearl very well. It was the trouble spot of Brown Sector. It seemed that every low life scum that arrived on the station gravitated to it like a magnet. Because of that it was the best place on the station to get anything… for a price. 'The Chief must have a lead, and must need some muscle backup.' Lou's hands became fists, and a mirthless grin crossed his face, 'And I am very happy to oblige the Chief… especially now…'
Turning his thoughts back to Gibbs, he said, "She was awake a few minutes ago, but I think she was going to try to go back to sleep. Hopefully, she will for a few hours. If she does check with you to see if there is any news, tell her 'no'. If she asks about me, tell her…" he paused to think, "… something. But under no circumstance are you to tell her the truth as to where I went, and don't get close enough to let her read you. Understand?"
'The last thing anyone needed was for this upset telepath to go on a rampage through Brown Sector!!!' He grimaced at the thought.
"Gotcha, Lou," Gibbs replied. He had been in the office when the Chief called, and volunteered to relieve Lou. He thought Ms. Winters was a hot babe and hoped by volunteering, that he would catch a glimpse of her. Now, he began to regret that decision.
Lou scanned the bar for the Chief. He found Michael seated at the bar. He appeared to be having his usual -- ice water. Their eyes met in the smoke stained mirror behind the bar. Michael causally signaled him over. 'Too causal,' Lou noted. Lou took the unoccupied barstool next to the Chief.
Before he could speak, the bartender arrived. "What'll be?" he barked.
Following the Chief's lead, "I'll have a beer… an Earth beer in a bottle."
The bartender nodded, and handed him an unopened bottle. Lou handed him the required chits, and the bartender moved away.
Opening the beer, Lou took a long draw on the bottle. He swiveled on the barstool until he could lean his back against the bar. Under his breath, he asked, "What's up, Chief?"
To a casual observer, Michael had just been sitting and sipping from his drink, staring unseeing at the wall behind the bar. In actuality, he had been using the dirty bar mirror to survey the room, looking for Jean Bennett. Michael had only met the nephew once and that had been almost a year ago. He wasn't impressed with him; therefore, his memory of him was kind of fuzzy.
"Do you know Jean Bennett?" Michael asked without looking at Lou.
Lou thought for a second, "Ain't he Mr. Tudor's nephew?" Lou knew him. He had arrested him more than once for drunk and disorderly, and twice for being part of a fight in this very bar. 'What did the Chief want with that lowlife?'
"See him anywhere?"
Now that Lou knew who he was looking for, he scanned the room. "No," he answered. "But, I do see one of his drinking buddies, Johnni Durango. He's two tables to your right. He's the tall dark haired man trying to slide under the table so that I don't see him."
Michael stared intently into the mirror at the table and man that Lou indicated. He nodded slightly. "You go to the left and I'll go to the right."
Lou and the Chief had done this routine plenty of times. Pushing away from the bar, he stood right behind Michael. "Well, if my best ain't good enough for you, Chief," he made sure to stress the name, "then you can go to hell,' then added, "Sir!"
"Sergeant, I would shut up if I were you, and just do it the way I told you. That's an order," Michael growled. He finished his water, stood, and paused to straighten his EarthForce jacket. As he shoved against Lou's shoulder to move him out of his way, he added, "Get out of my way."
Lou stood his ground, and defiantly replied, "With all due respect, screw you and this station. I don't move out of anyone's way, but especially yours."
All eyes in the bar were on the two men. No one there had ever seen any of Garibaldi's men ever speak to him that way. Durango sat up from his slouch. He decided that the officers weren't after him after all.
Michael's fist swung high and right, and Lou's fist swung low and left. Both missed their target, but allowed their momentum to carry them closer to Durango's table. Before he knew what was going on, both officers had a grasp on his arms. He had never stood a chance.
"Evening, Durango," Michael said as he pulled a chair close and sat down beside his detainee. In the meantime, Lou moved to stand right behind Durango's chair, and placed a tight grip on Durango's shoulder. The grip kept him firmly seated. Lou continued to scan the room looking for any kind of trouble. All eyes turned backed to their drinks, and the band returned to playing.
"Heeyy, Chief… How you doin'?" Johnni nervously asked. He hated to deal with any type of law enforcement, but Garibaldi lest of all. Garibaldi seemed to always know when someone tried to lie, and especially him… or so it seemed. Johnni shifted slightly under the restraining force of Lou's hand on his shoulder.
"Considering I should be sleeping right now, and I am not, not good, Durango… not good at all." His tone was menacing.
Johnni swallowed convulsively. "Any thing I can do so you can get that sleep?' His palms began to sweat. He rubbed them on his trousers.
Michael noticed. "Well, I am glad that you asked…" He looked up at Lou. "See, I told you… Durango would be cooperative." Looking back at Johnni, "See, Lou here, didn't think you would be."
Lou's grip tightened painfully on Johnni's shoulder. When Johnni yelped, and tried to move out of the grip, Lou eased his hold only slightly. "I don't know, Chief… I might have to thump him a time or two…"
Johnni pleadingly gazed at Michael. "I'll cooperate… I promise… I'll cooperate," he whined.
"Durango, I need to know where Jean Bennett is," he said with a mirthless grin. "That's all," he added.
Johnni hesitated. He hated to give up a friend… a friend who would always buy him a drink if he had the chits to do so. And lately, Jean had bought him a lot of beers. Lou's painful grip tightened once again and that's all it took to make up his mind for him. He yelped again. "Okay, man… okay… Just ease up on the shoulder. Jean left early this evening. He said something about needing to get some sleep before he had to be at his uncle's shoppe early this morning." He tried to wiggle out of Lou's grip, but to no avail. "That's the truth, Garibaldi, I swear!"
At last, Michael nodded to Lou, and Lou shoved Johnni's head down on the table before he released his hold.
When Johnni started to sit back up, Michael shoved him
hard into the tabletop, and held him there.
Leaning in close, he whispered, "If I find out that you have lied to me,
or worse, that you warn him I am looking for him, Lou will be back to see you…"
He let the threat hang in the air as he released Johnni.
Standing, Michael straightened his jacket, and walked out of the bar without looking back. Lou followed behind him.
Once on a transport cart, Michael pulled the card key for Blue 1102 from his pocket, and showed it to Lou. "Damon gave me the room key. After talking to him about the flowers, he's convinced his nephew stole them from him, and sold them to someone else."
"Sounds like something he would do," Lou agreed. "But he wasn't the one I saw outside of the Commander's quarters, Chief. I would have recognized him."
"But Damon also said that last week he had to give his nephew money to replace his uniforms. Told Damon that someone had stolen his."
Michael watched as Lou got his meaning. "That means I probably saw the kidnapper and didn't even realize it." Lou rubbed his face in frustration. "Damnit!" He swore.
"Lou, the Captain has sent all of the secure-cam crystals to Brother Theo and his group… The one from the day the flowers were delivered is among them… They are looking for him as we speak."
'A lot of good that does the Commander now,' Lou thought, but remained silent.
The transport stopped just a few doors away from their destination. Both men drew their PPG, and Michael used the card key to open the door. The smell from the room was overwhelming and both struggled not to cough.
"Light!" Michael called, but nothing happened. Calling louder, "Computer, lights." Still no response. Both withdrew penlights from their pockets, and began to move the beams around the room. It was a cesspool of garbage- empty boxes, half-eaten plates of food, empty bottles- but no Bennett. Michael moved into the bedroom and stopped. On the bed was the now deceased Jean Bennett. He was sprawled out on the bed, eyes open, and a large, gaping hole in his head. Looked like a shot from a PPG.
"Lou," he called to get the man's attention, and nodded to the bedroom. He stowed his PPG in its holster. "Dammit, we're too late!" He tapped his com-link, and called Zack. "Zack, send the evidence team, and several officers to Blue 1102… Jean Bennett is dead…"
"Right away, Chief," was the response.
Michael slammed his fist into the wall. What was he supposed to do now?
-------------------------------------------
As André neared the transport tube, he heard it beep… signaling the arrival of someone. "Who in their right mind is up, and riding on a transport at this hour?" He grumbled. He had an uneasy feeling about this situation. He continued to walk, passing the tube doors, and rounding the nearby corner. Stopping, he pressed tightly against the wall, and waited. He heard footsteps that went in the opposite direction… towards the quarters he had just exited. Deciding it was worth the risk, he peeked around the corner. His old mercenary heart skipped a few beats.
'Damn!!! What the hell are they doing here???' André swore to himself. The last people on earth he expected to see were security chief, Michael Garibaldi, and his sidekick, Lou Welch. Incredulously, he watched as they slowly approached and then stopped outside of Blue 1102.
'Garibaldi being here is no accident. He is one tenacious bastard… He must truly be not only lucky but good as well. Damnit!!!'' He had never expected Garibaldi to figure out the flower connection, and especially not so quickly. It had been André's way of verifying where the Commander's quarters were located. But, no one had ever got this close to catching him in the act… so to speak. His research had indicated that the command staff was good, but not this good.
Since 2000 yesterday, every corner he turned seemed to have a security guard around it, especially in Brown Sector, and DownBelow. They seemed to be arresting every illegal dealer available -- no matter what they dealt in. The rumor mill was a buzz, but no one seemed to know who, or what they were really after. Needless to say, everyone was on edge.
Everyone that is… except Jean Bennett. Even now, he couldn't believe he had read this one completely wrong… He was stupid and greedy, or so it turned out. Looking back over the last few weeks, maybe, he was getting sloppy in his old age.
André had barely kept his tempter under control while he was with 'Mr. Smith'. His bad feelings about this job were confirmed the first instant they met. The first insult had been when his employer tried to sneak up on him as if André was too stupid or inept to notice. The second insult happened as they went DownBelow where the Commander was held. Mr. Smith tried to appear to not be associated with him, like André was too far beneath him. And the third, and most grievous in André's opinion, was when arriving at the alcove; Mr. Smith had disdainfully dismissed him after he reluctantly paid him in full… as if he was a high-priced errand boy. Even now those thoughts fueled his anger. He really wanted to hit someone. In all of his years as a mercenary, only one other time had he been treated this way. After that one time, all of his fellow mercenaries and associates knew better than to try, and they made sure anyone new was aware of his reputation.
In his early years of youth and barely on his own, a Psi Cop decided he was better than André and tried to cheat him out of his full payment for services rendered. The Psi Cop lived long enough to regret it… regret it quite severely. For what the Psi Cop didn't know, or was too arrogant to believe, was that anything was available for the right price. André had the Psi Cop mind-wiped, then kept him around as a slave until he tired of him. André loved to have an audience when he did his best work… Torture was an art after all.
'Maybe 'Mr. Smith' needs to find that out as well,' André thought. 'Got to get off of this oversized tin can, fix my ship… then I think it will be time to see out this 'Mr. Smith'.'
At that point, André decided he needed a drink, and opted to go to The Black Pearl to get it. He had taken his first sip, when he felt someone bump into him. Looking up, he found himself face-to-face with Jean Bennett.
"Hey, man… I know you… How is the flower business?" Bennett smirked.
"I don't know what you mean. Beat it," he growled as he returned to his whiskey.
"Sure you do… Red roses and a certain Station Commander?" Jean slid onto the empty stool at his side. "Rumor has it that Captain Sheridan has… misplaced the Commander. I say good riddance to that tight ass Bitch." Jean took a long pull on the bottle of beer in his hand.
"Why do you think I care?" André finished his drink, and signaled for another.
Jean waited for the bartender to leave. "Well, I find it funny that not a week after you bought red roses - her favorite by the way - from me, and my delivery uniforms, the Bitch disappears." He finished his beer, slammed it on the bar, and belched loudly. When he noticed that André was still not paying attention to him, he continued, "I'm sure Garibaldi would like to know what I know. Don't you think?"
'Some people are just too stupid to know when to shut up,' André decided. It was time to take care of this 'loose end'. "So, I repeat, what do you think I care?" For the first time he glared at Bennett.
"Well, I could develop amnesia… for a one time price," he whispered as the gleam in his eyes brightened. In a week, he and Daniel had nearly gambled and drank all of his previous 'payment' away. When he saw this man walk into the bar, he saw it as divine opportunity.
André sat quietly and waited. He wanted his hesitation to make Bennett less sure of himself. It worked.
"Well, what do you say, man…" Jean said impatiently. "Money or Garibaldi. You choose, but the longer you wait the higher the price for my 'amnesia'," he threatened. He felt very sure of himself. 'This was a sure win situation,' he thought to himself. But then, the man looked at him. The glare was unnerving, and he began to sweat. But in the end, he remembered how desperate he was for money, particularly since his sideline of selling flowers had dried up. He tried to strengthen his resolve, and nervously waited.
André watched as Bennett's confidence wavered. Good, that is what he wanted. "Fine… money, but we need to go somewhere more private." He patted his full pocket.
Jean's cocky smile, and the glimmer in his eyes returned to their former status. "Sure, man. Let's go to my quarters." He pulled his key card out to prove he had quarters.
André finished his whisky in one gulp. "Lead on."
Ten minutes later found them in Bennett's quarters. 'What a nasty, lowlife slob,' André thought in disgust as he gingerly stepped into the room, and tried to avoid stepping on something.
Jean retrieved two beers from the fridge and offered one to André, but he shook his head. Jean shrugged and set the second on a nearby table.
"So how much is this 'amnesia' going to cost me?" The only reason André had allowed Bennett to know he had money on him was bait to get him alone so he could take care of him. On the way, he had already released the safety on the modified PPG he had on him.
Jean rubbed his chin. After seeing the bulge in the man's pocket, his price and his greed increased. "Well… I think about 5000 credits will do it… just some walking around money," he boasted.
André snorted to himself… 'Walking around money… yea, right!!! He probably hasn't seen that many credit at one time in his whole life,' he thought in disgust.
Outwardly, his face remained impassive. Again he paused until he noticed Bennett begin to squirm. "Okay… sounds fair enough." He reached into his pocket and counted out the credits. He started to hand them to Bennett but then paused, "Have you told anyone else about your theory???"
"No way!" Jean replied, but he saw that the man didn't seem to believe him. "Why would I tell anyone else, and have them try to cash in on it. No way!!!" he exclaimed.
"Good," André said. As he handed the money towards Jean with his left hand, his right hand slid to his jacket, and he slowly removed the PPG.
Jean's gleaming eyes were locked on the money and never saw the weapon until André fired. Shock and disbelief crossed his face before he collapsed to the floor.
André drug the body into the bedroom to get it out of his way, and hopefully make it longer before someone found the body. It took him only five minutes to search the room and the BabCom terminal. It seemed that Jean had told him the truth. As far as he could tell, Jean hadn't documented André's connection to the Commander. He crashed the BabCom terminal just in case.
Glancing around the corner once again, he watched as the two officers entered Blue 1102. Then a few moments later the door closed behind them. Deciding it was time to get out of there, André returned to the transport tube system, relieved that a car responded immediately to his summons. When the door closed, he released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and the grip on his weapon. André had been a mercenary for his entire adult life, but recently he began to realize he was getting too old for this line of work. Checking his watch, he saw it was still five earth standard hours before his transport left for Mars. "Zocalo," he informed the transport. Breakfast sounded good.
------------------------------------------------------------------
That's it for now… I hope I haven't left you with too much suspense…
May my muse and my beta tester be kind, and the next chapters soon…
