Disclaimer: I don't own it, and I'm only doing this for those of you with long-term memory loss, like the sweeper at the gates. (If you don't get the reference, read Lyle's Odyssey. If you do, ten points to you!) Oh, and the song belongs to the Eagles and whatever music company they work for.
Rating: Ah screw it. I'm not messing with this right now. Let's put it this way-- if you've watched the show, and can understand the plot, then you can read this.
Summary: Ms. Parker and the others are coming back to the Centre, Raines and Cox find out about the break-in, and someone crosses the line with Broots…
Feedback: I'm afraid that unless I get an overwhelming amount of feedback telling me not to, I'm going to have to discontinue the adventures of Shadow Elf, the Bard. It's just too hard to keep coming up with parts to it, without making them too long. Sorry.
But that doesn't mean I don't want any responses!!!
!!! Author's Note !!! Sorry that this took a bit longer to post than the other chapters, but I was trying to write more to this one than I have with the others. I hope that the length makes up for lateness.
Quote:
"Everyone has a limit, some just aren't pushed far enough." ----ShadowElfBard (Me)
**********************************ShadowElfBard************************************
4:49 pm, Friday
Blue Cove, Delaware
Just Outside the Warehouse
(Ms. Parker)
"Hurry up Syd. I don't want to leave you behind but we've stayed here too long as it is," I shout back to Sydney, never slowing from my quick pace and long strides.
I hear him sigh softly behind me and know that he's probably shaking his head. I'm afraid I don't really care at the moment though. I'm in too much of a hurry to get the hell out of here.
Two minutes ago, after hours upon hours of seemingly endless mental torture in the demented lab rat's "House of Fuzzy Horrors", we were finally released. The third clue had been sung in a pathetic rhyme scheme that was only slightly different from the first and second, (the second actually led us to another button that had been hidden under a fake-fur rug) and had been sung in the same squeaky and cheery voice.
"Cree craw, toad's foot
Geese walk barefoot
Truth can kill you
Or set you free
For the last button
Look inside me"
And almost immediately after the musical number had ended, Lyle had pulled out a pocketknife, (I don't even want to know why he keeps one on him when he has a perfectly good gun) and gutted the toy. Inside, as promised, had been an electronic remote with a large green button in its center. After it had been pressed, the lights had gone out briefly, and then flickered back on. At first we'd been worried that it had been a trick, or that Jarod's set up had malfunctioned, but when I'd tried the door, it had opened without argument.
No further coaxing had been needed to get all three of us out the exit.
And so now we're all out, and moving towards the car (if it's still there that is) and I'm trying to keep from bursting into a full-out run. I'm seriously that eager to get the hell out of here. And who wouldn't be? Locked in that overly cheery place with only a psychiatrist and a cannibalistic psycho as company would drive anyone insane.
We finally reach the car and I send up a quick prayer of thanks at the fact that it's still there. Trudging my way back to the Centre at night and in the snow does not seem like a fun idea.
As we all enter the car and buckle up, Lyle taking the wheel despite my protests, I briefly wonder what I should tell the Centre about my… nonattendance. Nobody needs to know that the lab rat tricked us again (especially if he did something to the Centre in my absence). But, then again, can I really keep it from the bastards? Those nearly omniscient bigwigs seem to find out about everything that happens. Oh, the hell with it. If they can find out, then they can go right ahead. But there's no way that I'll be telling them.
I look out the window, and for the first time I notice the frozen beauty of this area. The pier covered in snow, the cold gray sky against the color of the calm sea. The pearly white ground and the brown bare trees. It's beautiful really.
I'm reminded of the figurine Jarod gave me, and I look out of the corner of my eye at my bag, making sure that it's in the car with us. I have to admit it; I'm touched. Wonder boy did something right for a change. Maybe I'll thank him if he ever calls again. Maybe.
Lyle gets ready to start up the car, and I push aside thoughts of Jarod and the gift he gave me. I can't think upon these things now. It's time to go back to the Centre and see what damage Jarod's done.
12:48 PM, Saturday
Blue Cove, Delaware
The Centre
Indeterminable Location
(None-- Third Person View)
Imbeciles, all of them! Raines thought darkly as he strode down the hall, Willie following behind him. He'd only just been informed this morning of Jarod and Elf 17's untimely appearance, and he was not a man who enjoyed getting bad news at the crack of dawn.
Cursing technicians and their contemptible cowardice, he entered the tech room; though in actuality it more resembled a crime scene.
Underlings were scurrying around with files and papers, techs were trying not to cower as they recalled what happened to the sweepers who took down notes, and three of the semi-higher-ups were conversing in low tones in the corner.
Raines took no notice of any however, but the three in the corner. He approached them, two men and a woman, and once they saw him he had their immediate attention. His reputation, after all, was something for the Centre history books.
"Mr. Raines," the woman --a petite redhead-- said in greeting, trying her hardest to appear her cool and collected self.
The two men, one with a solid build and black hair, and the other a thin and wiry blonde with his hair slicked back, simply nodded in acknowledgement, though it was easy to see their tension.
"What happened?" Raines asked bluntly, blowing off the usual niceties that were expected of employees.
Black hair shrugged, and nodded in the direction of a tech. "Ask one of them; we haven't been told anything so far." His eyes narrowed briefly. "The sweepers have been refusing to let us question the technicians."
Raines eyes flared wide. "They've 'refused'?"
"Apparently they're following higher orders," Wiry added, glancing over at the sweepers briefly.
"Have you been able to find out whose?"
"We've been unable to get anything out of them except glares."
"How long have they been here?" Raines inquired with a scowl, thinking, for the third time, that he should have been contacted.
"As far as we know they came in yesterday evening," the woman informed him, her arms crossed in anger.
Raines fists shook at his side, his entire body heating up with suppressed rage. He turned away from the three, and without pretense or warning, walked straight up to one of the interrogating sweepers.
"What's going on?" he demanded in a hiss.
The sweeper turned slowly, not even flinching. He stared at the doctor through the black lenses of his sunglasses for a moment, and then said, "That's none of your concern."
Willie stepped in before Raines could blow a gasket, and his tone was low and deadly. "You should have more respect when speaking to one higher placed than you. Mr. Raines is second only to the Chairman, and it would be unfortunate if I had to report you."
The rival sweeper gave a small smirk. "Then I suppose I'm lucky that I don't answer to the Chairman." He tilted his head slightly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have orders to carry out." And then he simply turned his back on them.
That was the last straw for Willie. His hand immediately went to his gun holster, but before he could pull out his weapon someone from behind gripped his arm in warning and whispered, "Don't."
Both Raines and Willie turned, and were surprised to be staring at Mr. Cox.
"You should teach your sweepers more restraint, Mr. Raines," said Cox with a grave and serious look. "If you're not more careful you'll offend the wrong people."
"Whom are these sweepers working under?" Raines questioned, knowing instinctively that he had an answer.
Mr. Cox shook his head, and nodded towards the hallway. "Let's talk in your office. Is it empty?"
"My tech was sent home forty minutes ago." He took in some raspy breaths. "We can talk there, but I expect answers."
Cox inclined his head in acknowledgement, and they walked out of the tech room.
*******
" Well, we're here. Now, I think, would be a good time to tell me whose orders those sweepers were operating under," Raines said after shutting the door. Willie was guarding the entrance, and Cox was seated comfortably in the chair facing his desk. As Raines sat in his own seat, looking at the Triumvate agent expectantly.
"First of all, those were not sweepers, Raines. They were cleaners."
"Cleaners?! But that would mean--"
Cox gave a grim smile. "Yes, the Tower sent them. Word travels fast, and those above are very interested in what would make two pretenders on the run break into the very place they escaped from."
Raines let out a frustrated groan and clutched his head, feeling a stress related headache coming on. This was a disaster. In fact, it was very doubtful that things could be any worse.
The doctor sighed. "How much do they know?"
"I'm not entirely sure at this point, (you never can be with the Tower involved) but I don't think they know anything as of yet."
Yes! Then there was still hope! Raines smiled slightly at the thought. Maybe things could still go as planned. But, first, he needed to find out how much Elf 17 and Jarod knew.
"So the Tower supposedly knows nothing… but how much do we know?"
"We know that Jarod and Elf 17 came in, (though we're not sure how), and that Jarod hijacked the security room, and destroyed every DSA security disc that we could have used to find out why they were here." Cox grumbled the last part, obviously upset about it.
But Raines was still confused. "So we don't know why they even came?" A sudden thought hit him. "Is Lia still in the sub levels?"
Cox gave a nod. "Yes, she's there, and she hasn't been visited by anyone. This is all rather baffling I'm afraid."
"Everything's baffling when Jarod's involved," Raines muttered darkly. Then he straightened. "So, as it stands, we know about as much as The Tower. How wonderful."
"Still, we should consider it fortunate that they do not know more than us. On this matter at least."
The doctor gave a noncommittal grunt, an angry and disappointed look on his face, and then he gestured slowly towards the door. "Unless there's something else you have to tell me, Cox, I'd appreciate it if you left. I have preparations to make before we leave."
Though he seemed irritated at Raines' rude dismissal, Cox obligingly stood, inclined his head in acknowledgement, and left the office.
And personally, Raines couldn't have been happier to see him go.
6:49 pm, Saturday
Blue Cove, Delaware
Holiday Inn
Rm 109
(Jarod)
I glance over at Astrea from my position on the bed for what has to be the tenth time in the past hour. She's still in the same spot, gazing out the hotel window at the frost covered ground below, not really looking at anything and lost within her own thoughts.
Arthur is over by the door, his arms folded against his chest as he paces slowly around the room, his face troubled. He too has been doing this for a long time, though periodically he'll take a seat before becoming agitated and rising to his feet again.
I've simply been sitting. Astrea had told us what she'd seen last night, nearly sixteen hours ago, but the news was so shocking that we've been left in a sort of stupor the entire day. Personally I'm still having trouble believing it, though I really haven't voiced my opinions on the matter. It's a very hard pill of info to swallow.
Astrea has a sister at the Centre.
I sigh and shake my head. Complications and surprises are horrible encounters...
"Jarod, we need to talk."
I look over and notice that Astrea's risen from her seat at the window, and has crossed her arms as she stares down at the ground.
"About what?" I ask.
"About the Centre, about my sister, and about the plans we're going to make to free her." She looks up at this last part, and her green eyes almost dare me to protest.
I pause a moment, careful to form an answer that won't upset her. "I… I understand that these things do need to be talked about, but shouldn't we be focusing more on the files that you've copied from Raines' computer? As far as we know, that girl in the cell might not even be related to you."
Whoops. Seems that I've overstepped my boundaries.
She unfolds her arms, anger fueling her movements. "We've been over this before, Jarod. She is my sister. I could tell."
"How? All you saw was an image from a security camera. That's not really a valid source of information."
Her hands curl into fists and then uncurl again. "How many times do I have to tell you? I could sense it. And you and I both know that when a pretender senses something, it shouldn't be ignored."
"I know," I relent with a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I'm just… I'm just confused, okay? It's hard enough trying to come up with a cure for your little 'problem', but now that you have an alleged family member who's in the Centre…" I sigh again. "The rules-- hell, the whole game has changed. And I'm not sure that it's a game we can win."
"Um, pardon me for interrupting, but does that little message box mean that the computer is done searching?"
We both look over at the laptop that Arthur is pointing towards, and Astrea glides over. She looks at the screen for a moment, clicks on something, and then turns back around. "The search I ran is done. Now, instead of looking through thirty-seven different files, we only have to go through four."
I nod. "Are you going to go through them now then?"
"Yes," she says, though a bit grudgingly. "It'd be better for me to solve this problem before we start tackling any new ones." She then looks at me sharply. "But don't think that this lets you off the hook; we're still going to discuss the plans for freeing my sister after I'm done."
"Of course." I say the words sincerely and believably, but hope that she doesn't see the smile of relief trying to break free.
7:46 pm, Saturday
Blue Cove, Delaware
The Centre
(None-- Third person view)
"What I wouldn't give for Jarod's head on a pole," Lyle muttered to himself as he hung up his drenched suit coat on the rack in his office. He'd only just come back to the Centre no more than ten minutes ago. He, his sis, and the doc had all got into the car after they'd left Jarod's trap, and then discovered that the car wouldn't start. The engine had frozen over or some crap like that. And so they'd had to walk nearly four miles to find a car repair shop.
Through the snow, without coats or scarves, in twenty-below weather.
And then, when they'd finally reached the repair shop, they found that it had been closed for the holidays. They'd had to walk another two miles to find one that was open, and the people there said that it would be an overnight job, and since none of the three wanted to explain why they were coming back to the Centre in a cab, they had to rent out rooms at a Holiday Inn. Then, when they'd come back to the shop the next day, they'd been told that it would still be three more hours, so they'd had to wait in the lobby watching back to back 'Passions' re-runs. And that's not even mentioning the repair cost.
So, needless to say, Lyle was not in the best of moods.
He sat down in his chair behind the desk, trying to relish in the peace and quiet for a moment. It had been horrible trapped in that cheery cage, but it was over. Jarod was gone, they didn't have a lead on either of the pretenders, and it was time to get back to work.
A bit grudgingly he leaned forward and reached for his daily planner, flipping through the pages to see what things he had yet to have accomplished.
Project reports due next week… I missed that meeting with the law firm representative (no big loss there)… Raines sets out tonight… Wait, what?
He paused and reread his handwriting. Sure enough, Raines did leave tonight to go check on the progress being made on the project that he and Lyle were involved in. In fact, the wheezing doctor was supposed to be at the airport in an hour or so. And, assuming that Raines had not been feeding him false reassurances that he was coming too, Lyle had to be there with him. With a stream of inaudible cusswords, the director's son sprang up from his seat and headed out of his office to go and find his "partner".
*******
"What do you mean, 'we're having problems'?" Raines snarled angrily into the phone. He listened for a moment to the shaky voice on the other end, ignoring Cox's high and mighty smirk. Finally, completely fed up, he barked into the phone, "You better have the problems fixed by the time I arrive", hung up on the tech, and silently seethed.
"Having problems, are we? Technical difficulties? I'm not surprised. Somehow, no matter the odds, you always manage to pull through at the last moment and screw everything up."
Both Raines and Cox swiveled around to see Lyle leaning against the doorframe, arms folded casually across his chest, and a malevolent gleam in his eye.
He couldn't have looked more arrogant if he'd tried.
"Lyle? Where the hell have you been?" Raines rasped out slowly, ignoring Lyle's insult and egotistical posture. "Jarod and Elf 17 broke into the Centre yesterday, and the Tower is in an uproar. Not only that, but we'll be leaving for the airport in an hour or so and I seriously doubt that you're ready."
"Jarod had set up a little surprise for us-- we got delayed." His gaze flickered over to Cox and he raised an eyebrow. "What is he doing here?"
" 'He' will be accompanying you both to check on Project Location," Mr. Cox said smoothly, rising from his seat and putting his hands in his coat pockets. "Raines and I have made an arrangement of sorts concerning… concerning a new variable in the 'equation'."
Lyle gave a sound of acknowledgement. "Is that so? Interesting. But, back to business, what seems to be the problem, Raines?"
"The technicians at the project's site have informed me that they're having a problem with the programming." He paused to take in some breaths. "A problem that, it seems, has left them nearly a week behind schedule. They're trying to bring in some new people to help with the problem, but every qualified tech is already there."
"So, in short, we're screwed," Lyle said sardonically.
"Not necessarily," Cox interrupted calmly. "The Centre has a few capable technicians here, I'm sure that we could take one with us without disrupting anything."
Raines turned. "Like who?"
"How about your new tech, Raines?" Lyle suggested with a slight smirk. "Since he's officially working under you, we won't have to fill out any release forms, and he is one of the best here."
Dr. Raines seemed to consider the idea, and Cox looked at him sharply.
"But did you not give him this weekend off, Raines?"
"Your point being?"
"My point being that it wouldn't be wise to bring him. I'd thought we'd already discussed what stress like this can do to people, and--"
"I believe," Raines hissed icily, "that you are not in charge of this venture, nor the decisions I make regarding my employees." Turning to Lyle he then said, "We'll swing by Mr. Broots' home on the way to the airport. You should go and collect your things."
After Lyle had left (shooting the Triumvirate agent a triumphant smirk) Cox turned and glared at Raines in loathing.
"You are making a mistake. There is enough time still to find a different technician and sign the release forms, and you should do so."
The doctor merely gave a small and evil grin at Cox's warning. "You obviously didn't read up well enough on Mr. Broots. I've told you before, the man couldn't grow a backbone."
"And as I've said before, Dr. Raines, you'd be surprised what men will grow when pushed to far." He narrowed his eyes. "But I suppose you'll find that out on your own."
Raines watched as he strode out and let the door close audibly behind him. The doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head exasperatedly.
"Him and his dramatic exits…"
8:18 pm, Saturday
Blue Cove, Delaware
Broots' Home
(Broots)
"Where should I put this one, dad?" Debbie asks me, holding up a sparkling ornament.
I look our Christmas tree up and down. "Hm, I think we need a few more on the left. Help balance it out a little."
She grins and gives a playful salute. "Yes sir."
I shake my head with amusement and watch as she continues to decorate the tree. This is so wonderful. All of it. The festive music seeping out softly from my outdated stereo, the white snow visible on our windowsill, the tree in the middle of the living room with all of the presents piled underneath… and my daughter. I can't help but smile every time I look at her. She's a vision of innocence and kindness. Many times I think that she's the only reason that I didn't fall apart after the divorce. She's the glue that holds the fabric of my reality together and without her, I don't think I'd have a reason to live.
"Dad," she says lightheartedly, interrupting my thoughts, "stop staring at me like that. It's making me uncomfortable."
"Sorry honey. I just can't help but how beautiful you're becoming." I do a mocking pout. "Someday you'll leave me to go get rich and famous, and I'll be left all alone in this little old house."
She laughs. "Dad, if I leave and become rich and famous, I'll make sure that you're left 'all alone' on a tropical island." She waggles her eyebrows. "If you increase my allowance I might even be able to let you stay on an island with lots of beautiful women."
"Nice try, kiddo," I say, giving her a look.
She sighs. "Ah well. It was worth a shot."
I roll my eyes and she just winks and goes back to decorating. Oh, the enigma that is a fourteen-year-old.
I'm still mildly surprised that Raines followed through on his promise to let me come home. A large part of me had been worried sick that he'd change his mind at the last moment, and that I wouldn't be able to spend Christmas with my daughter. But it seems that there is someone looking out for me after all. I'd even been able to drop off the packages that Astrea had given me without being noticed. My own present is under the tree at the moment, along with all of the other things I'd picked up in a last minute shopping spree for Debbie. I'll unwrap my gift tomorrow, while Debbie opens hers.
"Dad? What present do you think I should open?"
"Huh?" I ask in confusion as she once again breaks into my thoughts.
"Remember our tradition? One present on Christmas eve?"
"Oh! Of course." How could I have forgotten? We've been following that little custom ever since Debbie was three.
"So… which one should I pick?"
I move over to sit on the couch. "I don't know."
"Hmm…" she stares silently at the wrapped boxes in concentration and then smiles and grabs one; a small, shoebox sized gift. She comes and sits beside me, and looks up at me for permission. I smile and nod my head, and she unwraps it.
"Wow!" she gasps as she pulls it out. "You… you got me my own cell phone?!"
I grin at her joyous expression. "Yeah. It's all ready and set to go, too. It works on pre-paid minutes, and I've already put my cell number, Ms. Parker's number, your friend's numbers in the memory."
"This is… this is so cool." She suddenly hugs me. "Thank you!"
I return her embrace and pat her back tenderly. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."
"Are you going to open yours now?"
"Mine?"
She points to Astrea's package. "That one. I saw you bring it in when you came home. Is it from a co-worker?"
"Kind of…"
Her eyes brighten with elation. "It's from a woman isn't it? Come on, you can tell me!"
I give her a half smile. "It's from a woman, but not like you're thinking."
"Sure," she says, rolling her eyes. "But… are you going to open it?"
"Now?"
"Christmas eve tradition! Remember?"
"I think that only applies to you, honey."
" Pleeease?" She does a fake puppy-lip pout and I can't help but laugh.
"Okay, you win. But after that we pop in 'It's a Wonderful Life' and watch it until we fall asleep. Deal?"
"Deal!"
With a theatrical sigh I get up and grab the present from under the tree, and return to the couch. Debbie watches attentively as I pull the tissue paper out of the bag, probably more eager than I am to find out what's inside.
Once the tissue paper is all out and on my lap, I reach in and draw out a CD. I flip it over to look at the title, and then burst out laughing. The CD is a single, and the song is none other than "Hotel California".
While I'm holding back chuckles, Debbie simply gives me a bedazzled look. "What's so funny dad?"
"It's--" more laughter "-- it's just a private joke honey." I cough back another snicker and compose myself. "One of the first things I told my friend about myself was that I liked the song."
"Ooh, that's sweet," she says fondly, smiling at the CD. I shoot her a look, knowing what that tone implies, and she just smirks.
I look at the CD, remembering the song, and then stand up and move over to our stereo, taking out the disc as I do so.
"Are you going to play it?"
"Yeah," I answer, popping it in the slot and pushing PLAY. "Let's see if I remember the tune."
The song starts up and the words remind me of when Astrea had learned of this song. I grin at the memory as I listen to the lyrics.
… I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself
This could be Heaven or this could be Hell
Both Debbie and I suddenly turn towards the front door as we hear the doorbell ring. Debbie looks at me questioningly, and I just shake my head to show my confusion. I turn down the volume on the song, and slowly make my way over to the entrance. Debbie rises from the couch and watches wonderingly.
I open the door, expecting a neighbor come to wish us Merry Christmas, or a group of carolers from the church down the lane, and I'm faced instead by Lyle and three of his lackey's.
I'm in such a state of shock that the director's son and his muscle men easily push past me, entering my home uninvited.
I'm able to think again, and I spin around from the doorway and move into the living room, where Lyle is looking at my holiday embellishments with a slight sneer on his face. Instinctively, I move to step beside Debbie, who is staring at the four newcomers with bafflement.
"Quite the setup you have here, Broots," Lyle says with a smirk, still gazing around. "Though the music doesn't really go with the decorations…"
"What are you doing here?" I ask quietly, drenched in fear.
He turns towards me, his eyes gleaming manically in the festive lighting. "Me? I'm just here to wish you a Merry Christmas."
"Who are these people, dad?" Debbie asks, gazing up at me in concern and uncertainty.
Lyle seems to notice her for the first time, and he gazes over at me, and a smile comes to his lips. The smile grows wider, and wider. Satanic. Crazy.
"Pretty girl," he says, and seems to study her. Not the way an adult should look at a child. Ever.
He starts to move forward and I walk in front of Debbie and block him off.
"Get away from her," I whisper.
"Or?"
"Dad?" Debbie says again, her voice shaking as she moves farther behind me.
"What do you want?" I'm surprised at how steady my voice is, how reasonable, because I want to grab a pencil and bury it in Lyle's eye.
"You're going to come with me, Broots. And you're not going to argue, and you're not going to struggle." He grins like a skull. "You're going to be an obedient little doggie."
What am I going to do? I've stood up to them before, stood up to Raines, even when they'd threatened to hurt me. But I knew that Raines wasn't going to cut off my head and stick my body in a wood chipper just because it was a slow afternoon. But I can't just leave my daughter.
Finally, though I'm sickened and scared out of my wits, I shake my head. "No. I'm not going anywhere."
I back up from him, feeling the fine trembling of Debbie's muscles as she clings to my arm. Lyle takes a few steps towards me, never taking his eyes off of Debbie. Don't you look at her. Don't you--
Suddenly, I remember the pictures that Jarod had sent of Lyle's immigrant wife. She had been very young too. Debbie is still just a kid, but in a couple of years -- one or two --
Lyle's wife had been beaten to death and dumped in the desert, and the Centre had covered it up. Boys will be boys. Oh Lord, don't you look at my daughter. Don't you dare.
"Don't make this difficult doggie," Lyle says softly, dangerously. "Just step away from her and come with me. I might break her arm if I have to pull her off of you."
I can't keep it in this time, and it bursts out of me in a raw and savage snarl. "Don't you even think of touching her!"
His eyebrows raise and he looks at one of the sweepers behind him. "Doggie has teeth. Break them."
I give Debbie a push in the direction of the staircase. She hesitates for a moment, only a moment, before she sees the look in my eyes and sprints up the stairs. One of the sweepers stares at Lyle questioningly, wondering if he should go up after her, but Lyle shakes his head.
"Not now. We're just getting what we came for. Raines is still waiting in the car--" he looks over at me. "--and we're keeping him waiting."
" I'm not going anywhere," I repeat slowly, rage building inside of me.
Lyle's face closes up at this, but his eyes give him away. No more pretty-boy shallow amusement. What is in those eyes isn't quite sane.
"On second thought Jones, go get the girl. It seems that Mr. Broots needs some convinc--"
"I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH HER!!!"
In a sightless fury I leap at Jones, taking him by surprise and knocking him to the ground. I attack him with a frenzied passion, punching him and scratching his face. The other two sweepers rush forward and manage to pull me off of him before attempting to hold me down.
My eyes blinded by rage and the instinct to protect my daughter, I fight them, lashing out with blows fueled by ferocity and wrath. Wildly I struggle, fiercely striking with a vicious intensity. Though they are taken aback at first by the fever of my resistance, they are readily adapting and soon have me pinned against a wall.
A blow to my head then stops my movement all together.
*******
"That tech is starting to get on my nerves," Lyle muttered to himself as he looked down at Broots, crumpled and unconscious on the floor. He glanced over at the three sweepers. Jones had a swollen eye, some scratches on his faces and what looked like bloody teeth, another sweeper had a rapidly swelling jaw, and the last one had a bleeding nose. However, they all stood straight and tall, ignoring the wounds and awaiting Lyle's orders.
The director's son jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. "Take him out and load him in the backseat of the second car. Make sure he doesn't wake up until we arrive at the airport. We've taken too long as it is."
One of them reached down and easily picked Broots up and slung him over his shoulder, while the other two followed him out. One minute later Lyle opened the front door on the right side of the first car parked outside of the Broots home. He got in beside the driver, a sweeper, and closed the door and buckled up.
"What took so long, Lyle?" Raines rasped from the back seat.
Sitting next to him, Cox chuckled. "Haven't you guessed, Dr. Raines? It seems your technician was not as spineless as you and Mr. Lyle had thought."
"It was just a snag," Lyle grumbled heatedly. "That was all. Nothing we couldn't take care of."
Cox just smiled a damnable smile, and the driver gunned up the engine and started driving.
*******
Debbie Broots had crept downstairs cautiously only a minute after the ruckus downstairs had quieted. She'd briefly glanced at the at the small spot of blood on the wall, the fallen Christmas tree and a few of the presents whose wrapping had been ripped when they'd been stepped on, but mostly ignored them as she'd moved to the window.
She stood there now, drawing a portion of the curtains back with one hand, gazing out at the two black cars parked along the curb and watching as they drove off silently, probably taking her father with them.
The music from her father's CD (that had been quietly repeating the song this whole time) was still seeping softly out of the speaker as she stood there, staring. But she only stood there a moment longer, before she fell to her knees and wept.
…Mirrors on the ceiling
Pink champagne on ice
And she said,
We are all just prisoners here
Of our own device
In his car the sweeper called Willie opened an envelope addressed to him, and found half of a 'Best Friends' necklace hidden inside of a Christmas card.
And in the Masters chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can't kill the beast
And up above the halls of the Centre, the boy christened Timmy put on a sweatshirt he'd discovered in the air vents, the first Christmas gift he'd received in twenty-nine years.
Last thing I remember
I was running for the door
I had to find a passage back
To the place I was before
And the little girl named Debbie sobbed into the sleeves of her sweater, the happiness of Christmas crushed and dripping away in every tear that slid down her pale cheeks.
Relax, said the night man
We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like…
But you can never leave.
****************************************************************************
Review Returns:
Ann: You're past college?! And you're reading my story?! And you're REVIEWING it?! OMG! Wow. This is… this is amazing… Um, thanks for my review and…and… Thank you so much!!!
P.S
You're right about the computer geeks. There's just something about them.
Pez7701: Sorry I couldn't post as soon as you'd probably hoped, but I hope that you aren't too mad at me that you won't review again. You're one of my favorite reviewers.
Ievandie: Hope you're enjoying Holland, and maybe the whole "Christmas thing" will not seem so weird now that it's November. I'm also glad that my writing is able to spice up my story for you.
Pretender fanatic: Wow. That was a long review… thanks. Oh, and yeah you can use the whole "feral" thing in a story if you want (if you haven't already done so). It's no problem as long as you don't copy my plot. Thanks again for your compliments and good luck!
Midnight Moon: I never knew that my story could save someone's life… cool. (Lol) Thanks for the sympathy and the review, and I'm happy to have you aboard!
Whitefire: Hey whitefire. Didn't think I'd be hearing from you again, but I'm glad that I have. Thanks for the reviews and yes, Cox is an excellent villain. Oh, and I'll try not to be stereotypical when writing from Ms. Parker's point of view.
Though the ending to this chapter was not as perky as some of my others, I still hope you enjoyed it, and I'll be desperately and anxiously waiting in limbo for any feedback you can give me.
---- Talk to you soon! (But, by 'soon', I might very well mean a month or so, though I'll strive to get my next one up as early as possible)