Note: The chapter that wouldn't write. Thank you to everyone for the great reviews. And thank you to Alexis, the best military advisor ever.
RFRqueenbe: Thank you, babe! blushes wow, a fan? eek, the pressure! lol.Over? Not even close, lol. There is still a long, long way to go on this thing. And you asked about plumcrazy.ws - I don't have anything on there. I stay on the Yahoo boards PlumFanFiction and rqfic .
Shiegra: Thank you! It's almost impossible to keep Ranger like Janet has him, esp when you have to go into his head for a longer story. I try to keep him close to it, but I like torturing him too much, lol. Try PlumFanFiction at Yahoo groups- namely Alexis's stories.
Disclaimer: As always, Ranger, Steph, the Merry Men, and most of the Trenton cast do not belong to me. Sadly Alec, Charles, and co are mine, but I'd rather not claim them. Haley, Dom, and the St. Louisans are also mine, but I'm a lot happier to claim them.
Chapter 11- The Storm
I felt my heart skip a beat as I watched Charles step out of the plane. I rushed toward him, happy he was finally home, and found myself swept up in a laughing embrace. He wasn't usually one for public displays of affection, but I didn't care at that moment. I was so upset over Alia's MIA status that I just needed the hug.
Bless him, he endured it with a smile. "I missed you too, my darling," he chuckled.
"Oh, Charles! Alec said you weren't going to be home for weeks!" I told him by way of explanation, my words coming out in a rush. "And now that Alia is missing, I-"
Charles shushed me by pressing a finger lightly to my lips. "Don't worry, Serena. I'm sure she's around here somewhere," he said, steering us back toward the house. I want you to go ahead with your party plans- the supply plane should be here in a couple of hours with everything you wanted," he laughed. "And I promise you you'll see your sister before then."
I frowned. "Charles, has something gone wrong? Is that why she wasn't up and about when Alec said she would be?" He shook his head and hugged me to him.
"No. Nothing's wrong. Alec just miscalculated a few things," he rolled his eyes. "He can be so careless sometimes."
I smirked, hoping he really gave Alec a lecture. My thoughts were distracted as we entered the house, though. I had so much to get ready! I'd been so frustrated I had barely thought about a welcome home dinner for Charles, or even any sort of celebration. Where had my mind gone to?
"I'm going to go work in the lab for a while, my darling," Charles sighed, "to get it all straightened out. Perhaps we can celebrate a proper homecoming later?"
"Of course!" I gave a mental sigh of relief. "It will be a double celebration," I said smiling up at him before kissing his cheek lightly. "Good luck."
He hugged me again, chuckling. "Don't burn the house down," he said, and left. I watched him disappear down the hallway with an odd feeling in my chest. I tried to shake it off as I headed for the kitchens, but there was no shaking it. It's that feeling you get that heartbeat before you miss the step and end up rolling down the stairs. The feeling that warns you not to take one more step because the universe is just dying to trip you up...
I should probably have listened to it, but there wasn't time. I had a dinner to organize in the midst of the chaos that the monthly supply run always incurred. Best to get as much as possible done before then.
I had barely even put the finishing touches on the flowers for the centerpieces when Charles stormed into the dining room. He was flushed and yelling into a cell phone. The scowl on his handsome features was almost enough to send me running for the beach, but I somehow guessed it wasn't directed at me.
Charles slammed the phone down on the table, sinking into the seat next to me. I remained as still as I could and kept my mouth shut. He could speak first. There was a minute of silence while he visibly tried to calm himself. When he finally looked at me though, his midnight eyes were still flashing with anger. "He took her with him," He growled. "That's the only explanation. I can't believe him! Of all the irresponsible, stupid... I'm going to kill him!" he ranted.
I was blank. I had never seen my Charles this angry. Huh, come to think of it, I'd never seen Charles angry at all. "She's gone?" I finally managed to ask, my voice shaky even to my ears.
He ran a hand through his already tousled hair, visibly fighting for control. "I'm afraid so, my darling." He took my hand in his. "I'm sorry. I never thought he was such an imbecile! I sent some of my associates to fetch him, though." I met his eyes and saw a fierce determination in them. "I promise he will pay for this. He should have more respect than to..."
He squeezed my hand briefly, then released it as he rose to his feet again. "The flowers are lovely, Serena. I am going to fix this fiasco- you'll have Alia back soon." I stared at him as he walked out the door, still trying to comprehend what had happened. Alec had taken Alia? Where? Where was she? I felt dizzy, and couldn't catch my breath.
This had happened before! She was missing again... Why hadn't I gone instead of her?
Wait, where the hell had that come from?
I stood up, and fought to stay on my feet as the world tilted at a crazy angle. I lost, of course, ending up on the ground, where the housekeeper found me a few moments later.
Mrs. Atwood was a genial, bustling lady of middle years who could bark orders like the captain of an old-time ship when the need arose. Thankfully for my suddenly pounding head she did not start yelling commands, but quietly helped me to the parlor, where I collapsed onto the sofa.
She pressed a glass of water into my hand.
"Thank you," I said, pulling one of my pills from my pocket. I kept them with me in case of emergencies like this. After taking it, I felt immediately calmer. "Could you... take care of the arrangements for tonight?" I asked. "I think I need a little rest."
She nodded, looking concerned. "Of course, Madame. Call if you need anything." I smiled, watching her leave. What would I do without her? I wondered about this as I slipped into a light sleep.
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Mrs. Atwood stood in the eye of a storm, the calm center of the whirlwind of activity as the staff of the island struggled to unload the plane in some sort of order. The normal chaos was further intensified because the plane's usual captain was absent, and half the crew was new. For mere mortals it was a management disaster waiting to happen. For Mrs. Atwood it was the barest niggling annoyance. One didn't earn references such as hers for nothing. She ignored the new and useless crewmembers, and her eagle eyes, usually so adept at catching anyone shirking duties, did not see two of them slip away from the unloading, toward the house.
Worse yet, she didn't even notice the three heavily armed men in camouflage until they were barely six feet away.
"Everyone into the hangar!" one yelled. "Slowly, and no one gets hurt..."
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The sun finally sank over the horizon, allowing the darkness to settle in. The two-man team patrolling the beach stopped to watch the moment, and settled into a favorite spot for the occasion. They greeted the third man who ambled over the dune with familiar greetings- this had become a ritual over the last few weeks, and a pleasant one at that. The third man joined them around the fire pit, and produced his nightly offering: a bottle of rum.
The three companions passed it around, the laughter becoming increasingly boisterous and the stories taller with each round. It was half gone when the first two finally nodded off.
Wishing his comrades a pleasant evening, the third man dusted off his pants and wandered down the beach on his own, leaving another bottle as a silent apology. He rounded a bend in the shore, and stopped to watch the small motorboat dislodge itself from the impressive yacht and race toward the shore.
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The guards in the control room relaxed, chatting amiably over pastries and soft drinks while they watched the soccer game on the portable t.v. Next to them the cameras on the beach and in the house reported nothing but the usual evening routines and the confusion on the airstrip as everyone struggled to get the plane unloaded and the cargo sorted.
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I woke up to the deafening roar of the supply plane as it buzzed overhead on its way to the landing strip. I glanced out the windows and was surprised to see it was almost sun set. I had been asleep for hours!
I sat up carefully, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness that swept over me. I didn't feel up to dealing with the chaos that had to be going on outside, but I didn't want to sleep anymore either... It occurred to me that Charles probably couldn't hear the planes arrival down in the dungeon (Alia's very apt description of the lab). Reluctantly I pulled myself out of the couch and headed for the study, which was the only entrance to the lab. I never understood the fascination with having a hidden laboratory, but I suppose it kept prying eyes out of it.
Pondering the mystery, I paused just inside the doors to appreciate the room. Like the rest of the house, it was furnished in the odd mix of heavy Old World woods and lighter more tropical accents. But this was the only room with Oriental rugs. I loved the rugs- they were thick and luxurious, and breathtakingly intricate. There were times I wondered if they might not be secretly aerodynamically sound. Tearing my gaze away from the carpets, I padded across the room to the fireplace and poked the right hand gargoyle in the eye. A truly ridiculous bit of whimsy, that. But what could I say? I was probably genetically crazy and thought insanely expensive rugs just might be able to fly.
The back of the fireplace slid away, and I stepped into the revealed stairway. "Charles?" I called as I neared the door to the lab.
"Serena?" he called back, and I could have laughed at the disbelief in his voice. I walked out onto the platform and waved down at him. He was staring up at me with an expression of utter disbelief. I never came into the lab if I could help it. I didn't like it- too sterile, too cold. Too white, I added, looking around at the pristine surfaces and the seeming endless expanses of white broken only by mirror-finished trims or glass beakers. Ugh.
"The supply plane is here. I didn't know if you would know yet," I explained, carefully maneuvering down the next set of stairs to the ground floor. Charles met me, his eyes searching me. He looked dreadfully concerned.
"My darling, you look pale," he said. "Are you feeling all right?" I nodded to him, smiling gently.
"Just a dizzy spell after you left. I had to lay down for a bit." I held up a hand to forestall the next question. "And yes, I took a pill immediately when it happened." He nodded in approval, his face relaxing into a relieved smile.
"Well, then. Let us head back upstairs. I think perhaps we'll delay the celebrations until tomorrow," he paused and put a hand to my forehead. "You need to rest, you feel a little warm." I frowned.
"But Charles, dear, I don't want to disappoint you! I've missed you and I want to show you how glad I am-" He put a finger over my lips to hush me.
"There'll be time enough tomorrow," he chuckled. "And you should know by now, my darling, that you never disappoint."
I blinked as he said that, my heart almost skipped a beat. For a second, the barest fraction of time, I swore I heard another voice say those exact words. "You never disappoint..." it echoed in my head around and around. But it wasn't Charles' rich musical tone, it was deeper, with a very odd accent.
Charles' arm was around me, holding me up as I almost sagged to the floor. "Serena!" he whispered. "Serena!" it was louder. I stared up at him, uncomprehending for a moment. My own name sounded so strange... And then he was sweeping me up, carrying me toward the stairs. We were almost there when a deep voice, calm and deadly as an earthquake, froze him in place.
"Put her down, Deering," the voice rumbled ominously. I heard an even stranger noise and looked up to see two men standing on the platform above. They were both dressed in black like the security guards, but the guns in their hands weren't like any I'd ever seen the guards carrying. Then again, the men were not like any guards I'd ever seen, either. These men were dangerous, and I somehow doubted the guns were by any means the only weapons they had on them. They were both tall, with indecent amounts of rippling muscle and oozing sex appeal. I frowned. Where did that last thought come from?
"I said put her down, Deering," the one closest spoke in the deep rumbling voice. I looked at him more closely. He had to be the biggest man I had ever laid eyes on, both in height and muscle mass, and his skin was almost as dark as his clothing. It made the massive gun he was aiming at Charles and I somewhat easier to miss. Like it just might be the least dangerous thing about him. I shuddered at the thought, leaning closer to my fiance.
Slowly Charles lowered me to my feet. It was as if touching the floor broke some sort of spell inside me- until I was actually standing there facing the two commandos, it hadn't occurred to me to be afraid. It was now occurring. I felt my insides tighten, and my stomach gave an unhealthy lurch. "Charles?" I asked desperately. "Charles who are they?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"No one, darling," he said calmly, his eyes never leaving the two men.
"Step away from him now, Ms. Darling," the impossibly large man ordered. I hesitated, and looked to Charles for guidance.
"Do as he says," he said softly. No, no I don't want to. Something's wrong here. Something bad is happening!
I stepped away.
"Further," the living mountain ordered. I glance up at him once again. He would probably kill me and never think about it twice...
I took another few steps and stopped, my eyes glued to the commandos. Apparently this was far enough, because the big one's attention was on Charles again.
"Face down, Deering," he ordered. I watched as Charles laid down, his movements slow and deliberate. Once he was on the floor, the two men finally moved, coming down the stairs. Their guns, however, remained focused on Charles the entire time. I just stood frozen, watching them stalk their prey like a pair of panthers, fighting the panic I felt welling up inside me.
The shorter one knelt down to handcuff Charles while Big watched. It must have been temporary insanity, but something in me snapped and I lunged at the one cuffing Charles. I must have taken them by surprise, because the insane maneuver worked, if only for about a split second. The guy caught me, but overbalanced so we rolled off of Charles to tussle it out of the ground. I held my own for about a tenth of a second before I ended up pinned on the ground, my arms caught almost painfully behind my back.
I tried to move my arms, and whimpered at the pain. The guy loosened his grip. I took the opening, wrenched my arms free, and rolled away from him.
"We really ain't got time for this shit," Big growled from somewhere as I scrambled to my feet. I didn't take the time to look for him, just backed up into the nearest lab table. It was the one with the chemical experiments set up on it, an array of beakers and test tubes full of mysterious liquids and various substances.
Number two was stalking toward me. "Just behave and we won't hurt you," he advised in a deep voice with the same weird accent as the one I'd been imagining earlier. I glared at him, one hand reaching to the table behind me in search of anything I could use as a weapon. Anyone who sounded like my hallucinations wasn't someone I was going to trust. My hand wrapped around something just as the gunshot rang out.
I turned to see Charles, a small gun in his hand, slide to his knees, a flow of red blooming from his torso. The scream ripped from my throat as I realized what I was seeing. Without even truly aiming I threw the vial in my hand in the general direction of Number Two and ran toward my fiance.
Charles looked up from the wound soaking the front of his white shirt, his beautiful midnight blue eyes meeting mine. There were so many things written in them- tenderness, love... pride... I barely noticed the movement of his right hand until the second shot ripped through the room.
The impact of it knocked me backward. I felt a blazing pain in my chest, and in my heart as another bullet opened another hole in him. He fell forward, clutching his stomach. Oh god, this wasn't happening. This didn't happen. Not in real life... Not in my life. My brain was reeling- I could almost feel reality slipping away.
I looked to my left, behind Number Two as the computer banks exploded into a bright ball of flame. I wondered, distantly, what I had thrown at them just before the dots started dancing around my vision. It wasn't until then I realized it was oddly hard to breathe. I looked down to see my own white dress slowly staining itself crimson.
That explained it then.
My knees buckled and I waited to feel the impact of the floor, but it never came. I was feeling lightheaded; the black spots were getting bigger now. Oh well, if they were going to kill me it might as well be when I wasn't conscious to feel it, right?
The world softly muted out and then the black spots finally took over.
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"Did you think I'd let you have her?" Deering wheezed, the life fading from his eyes with every syllable. His face was twisted in a grimace of pain but the satisfaction was clear in him.
Ranger didn't dare look down at the woman he held cradled in his arms. Instead he handed her off to his partner to turn on the monster in front of him, ignoring the fire rapidly spreading across the banks of computers not so far away. The light of the flames flickered and danced, shadowing his face into a feral mask as he stepped forward, a vial from the table of chemicals clenched in his hand. "Did you think I would let you die quickly?" he countered.
For the first time the other man's face showed a hint of fear as Death leaned over him. He tried to hide it, but it overrode even the agony of the two bullets buried in his stomach. Ranger's eyes were voids darker than space as he stared down at Deering. The man's death would be painful, his own digestive acids eating through his organs, bleeding internally.. but that wasn't enough. Not nearly. His lips pulled upward in an expression too cruel to be called a smile and he held the vial closer for the dead man to inspect.
"You took something that was mine," he said slowly, clearly so that his words would not be lost in the rush of the flames. "There's always a price for that." He tilted the vial, letting the liquid catch the light, smirking as Deering's eyes flared wide.
"N-no," he choked out, his eyes seeking Ranger's, seeking mercy where there was none to be found. "You wouldn't-" the vial tipped, the first few drops escaping to land on his cheek. The pain was instantaneous. Whatever pleas he might have uttered were swept away in the scream of anguish that only intensified as the rest of the liquid hit, splashing into his eyes, flowing down to his ears, his mouth.
Ranger didn't stay to watch the sight. He knew well enough what the acid would do, and the screams told the tale eloquently enough. His priorities lay elsewhere- namely in the limp figure his partner was holding. Tank was calling for Angel and Dom to meet them in the hallway, growling the orders into the comm unit. Ranger knew the contingency plans, had designed them, but he hadn't really been prepared for this. He never was, he realized as he checked Stephanie's wound. God he hated it when she got shot...
Something in him relaxed when he realized it was just a shoulder wound. She would be fine... but there seemed to be a lot of blood. His brows drew together. She shouldn't be bleeding this heavily...
"I know man," Tank's voice broke through his thoughts. "Too much blood. Angel is on his way, but we got to get out of here. Who knows what the hell's going to blow up next."
Ranger's eyes lifted from Steph to look at Tank's solemn features. A nod was all that was necessary.
The two men headed back the way they'd come, leaving the lab to burn. They were halfway up the stairs before either noticed that Deering had stopped screaming. Their eyes met briefly in a moment of victory, but that was all. There were other priorities now.
It couldn't be seen beneath the mask of camouflage paint, but Dom could feel the blood draining from his face. Christ, there always had to be something go wrong... He motioned to his comrades, signaling them to drop their tasks and head for the main house. The staff and most of the security force were locked safely in the hangar already, without a shot being fired. After all, they didn't owe their bosses anything and weren't overly eager to lose their lives.
Angel and Lester looked at him for an extra moment as if to make certain they had read the signal correctly before the team moved toward the mansion. At the edge of the airstrip Les commandeered one of the security Jeeps and the team roared off toward the house. Behind them the hangar doors rattled as the imprisoned group began attempting their escape.
Ranger and Tank rushed out of the door as they approached the mansion, Ranger carrying a limp figure in what had once been a white dress, although it was difficult to tell with the amount of blood staining it. They paused long enough to carefully load Stephanie into the back before Lester tore down the drive, headed for the beach.
The group had just crested the last dune when gunfire broke out behind them. The assailant only managed to squeeze off a few rounds luckily, before the answering shots from somewhere further inland ended the dispute. Trusting in their fellow team members to take care of any more tails, Ranger and his men focused on loading Stephanie into the Zodiac.
Angel knelt next to her, his brown eyes focused and hard.
"What do we need to do?" Tank asked quietly.
"Get her to the yacht. I'm going to need Bobby on this one," Angel replied his eyes never leaving his patient, but his grim tone spoke volumes.
"Haley?" Dom inquired, his eyes still fixed through his scope as he aimed at a target inland.
"Rico's supposed to have her," Les told him.
As if on cue, Enrique, Ash, and Quinn appeared over the ridge, running flat out. Quinn was sporting a fresh black eye and carrying something slung over his shoulder. A something that was apparently doing its damnedest to throw him off balance and wriggle loose.
"Move out," Ash yelled as they drew closer. Once they were in arms reach of the boat, Quinn tossed his uncooperative load to Dominic and joined the other two in shoving the craft back out into the water.
Dom bit back a yell as Haley caught him in the kidneys with a well-aimed fist. He caught the offending wrist and twisted. She went still instantly. "Behave," he warned her. It might have come off more threatening if she hadn't chosen that exact moment to look up at him with tearful, frightened eyes that almost hit harder than her fist had.
"You're going to kill me aren't you?" she breathed, her gaze sliding back to rest on Stephanie's still, blood soaked form. Without thinking he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly and trying not to feel his heart breaking as the nightmares of the last few months replayed in his head. Shit, now was not the time for this...
"No," he managed to whisper. Before he could offer any further explanations, there was an explosion of gunfire from the island. Dom shoved Haley to the bottom of the boat and leaned over her, his gun already up and taking aim from sheer reflex.
The next few moments were a jumble as the remaining three dove into the boat to the unwelcome sounds of bullets flying overhead while the Zodiac finally pulled free of the shore. Tank gunned the engine and they sped out toward the yacht at full tilt.
Haley stayed where she was, curled up on the bottom of the boat, scooted back against the side. Dom tried to put a hand on her shoulder but she flinched away without looking at him. He caught a glimpse of her eyes in the dying sunlight and winced at the glassy, distant expression in them. She didn't move until they reached the yacht. Even then she only did what she was instructed to do; climbing the ladder, taking a seat on the bathing platform.
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Curled up against the wall of the cabin and apparently forgotten, Haley tried to make herself think. She watched two of the men, the gorgeous blond with the angelic face and the black man who appeared out of the main cabin, as they gently took Serena inside the boat on a stretcher. Who were they? Who was she for that matter? Her head began to pound again.
Rico and Lester had told her she was Haley Thorne, visiting her cousin Stephanie in Jersey. They said she'd been kidnapped. It fit some of the extra memories in her head well enough, but these men had come and her so-called friends had known them... now Serena was covered in blood, barely alive. And they were on a ship headed for god knew where with a group of armed guerrillas. Mercenaries, maybe? Kidnappers? Pirates of the Caribbean?
This would make a good story. Much better story than reality, really. The story would be... a young girl, adopted daughter of the governor of Port Royal, who had vague memories of her true heritage is kidnapped by the merciless Black Raiders, the cruelest band of cutthroats on the seven seas. They are led by Captain... Captain... she looked at the man the others obvious deferred to.
He was tall, muscular, with long dark hair but in the dark, with the full moon and that camo paint on it was hard to tell much about any of them. Captain Blackstone, she decided, and his fearsome first mate Gibraltar. As in the Rock of, she thought eyeing the massive second-in-command. Now the pirate band planned to ransom the girl as well as her older sister, and then sell them into slavery on the Barbary Coast. But the girl knew of their plans, and knew that her sister was too weak to withstand any escape attempts, so that meant that...
Her story was interrupted by one of the pirates. He looked an awful lot like the captain, she realized. Maybe it was his son? She sat up a little straighter and lifted her head defiantly. 'Behave this,' she thought, glaring at him. "Stay away from me," she warned. "I gave your friend a black eye, I'll give you one to match if you come any closer."
"You sure as hell did, Pixie," the one with the black eye laughed. She almost jumped out of her skin. Where the hell had he come from? These guys fit into shadows way too well.
"What did you do to my sister?" she asked instead. "Why are you doing this?"
"Come inside, princess," Lester's familiar voice drifted on the dark breeze. "They didn't hurt your sister," he said sadly.
"No one on this boat is going to hurt you," the captain's possible son assured her. His voice sounded familiar as well. Something from one of her memory-dreams maybe? Haley shook her head. No, no one in her so-called memories wore camo paint or looked like a guerilla.
She took another few steps back until she was pressed against the guardrail. An idea hit her. "Any one of you comes any close and I'm jumping," she warned.
"Haley!" Les pleaded. She could see him now, next to the ladder up to the main deck. He stepped toward her, keeping his hand out in a gesture of peace. Smart guy. "We would never hurt you, or Serena. You know that," his voice was soothing, "Just think for a moment." Uh huh. Right.
"Then who did?" she asked, adjusting her grip on the railing. There was an uncomfortable pause.
"Deering," someone said at last but either it was a voice she didn't recognize or the hatred packed into the two small syllables distorted it past recognizing. Haley shook her head again. Try again, she thought at them. Her eyes darted around. They were far enough away... She relaxed her shoulders, like she was giving in.
"Just-" the black-eyed one started. She didn't wait to see what he was saying, just turned and swung her legs up to go over the railing. At least, she meant to. The exact physics involved in the next thirty seconds completely eluded her, but somehow she didn't go over the railing and was instead hauled backward by very large, very strong arms. She screamed as loud as she could and proceeded to kick whoever had her as hard as possible.
Dom cursed violently when her heel connected with his kneecap. "Stop it," he growled through clenched teeth. "Calm down and go inside-" Her foot connected with his shin in a surprisingly convincing answer, and he barely had time to adjust his grip on her arms as she tried to nail him in the sternum.
"Let me go!" Haley demanded, still struggling. "Who the hell do you think you are? Charles is going to kill you," she added. Probably he wouldn't, but it sounded good.
Dom didn't respond, concentrating on changing his hold on her.
"What in the hell is happening out there?" Tank's gravelly voice bellowed from the upper deck.
"Haley's beating up Dominic," Quinn yelled back, sounding too amused for his own good. Dominic glared at him through the darkness.
Tank's broad silhouette leaned over the railing to glare down at them all. No one could actually see the glare, but it was definitely present. "Knock it off. Angel and Bobby are trying to get Steph's bleeding stopped. You're lucky Ranger didn't come out and shoot the whole worthless bunch of you."
"Her name is Serena," Haley objected. Not one of the men chose to respond, but she quit struggling at the idea of being shot. Dom slowly settled her back on her feet.
"Please, Hales," he whispered. "Just listen to our case. Preferably inside- the mosquitos have to be eating you alive."
Haley looked around them, obviously evaluating her chances of escape. He didn't give her time to finish it, and ushered her toward the ladder to the upper deck. She went without any further incident and he sighed in relief He waited until Les helped her off the ladder above, then followed Quinn into the lower cabin to get cleaned up.
Inside Quinn was already scrubbing his own face paint off. "How do girls wear this shit all the time?" he asked when Dom entered. His friend just shrugged and slouched onto the bed. The lack or response caught Quinn's attention, and his green eyes were sympathetic when he turned.
"Give her some time, D. You heard the reports; it's gonna take a while," he offered. Dominic shook his head sadly.
"In the boat, she thought we were going to kill her. She seriously..." he looked up at Quinn. "She was terrified."
Quinn winced a little, but decided to change the subject. "Huh. She wasn't terrified when she nailed me earlier. Amazing- she can forget us, forget her own name but she still remembers how to land a punch."
Dom chuckled at the indignation in Quinn's voice, and rubbed his knee absently. "Yeah. Still kicks like a mule, too. So what did you get hit for?"
"I'm not sure. She was fine, going along with Rico no problem. Then one look at me and Ash and she flipped. I could kick your ass for teacher her how to fight." Quinn went back to scrubbing his face, avoiding the overly tender eye area.
"Hey, not my fault your face freaks some girl out," Dom told him, grinning. Quinn glared at him in the mirror.
"You know, I'd really hate to get in trouble for killing the boss's nephew..."
Lester waited until she had her footing on the upper deck, then pulled her into a tight hug. "You had me worried, sweetheart."
It took a second, but she returned it halfheartedly. "You... you're sure about these guys? You believe they didn't shoot Serena?" she asked quietly. Les pulled away and looked at her, examining her closely as he could in the small amount of light pouring out of the main cabin.
"These guys are friends Haley. There was a time you would have trusted a couple of them with your life, no questions asked," he said, his tone serious. "They didn't shoot Serena. I know you won't believe it, but it was Charles."
"He loved her! He'd never do anything to her," Haley protested. Les took a deep breath and resisted the urge to shake some sense into her. Now was not the time to get into this.
"Maybe he did, sweetheart," he said. "But you told me about him, remember? He was a little messed up sometimes, so maybe he did it when he didn't mean to." She bit her lower lip, and looked down at the floor.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to contradict you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of course you know what happened better than I do. I'm just overwrought, probably. If you believe that Charles did it, then you must have a reason." She bent her head in submission as if to wait for her sentence.
Les shook his head at the sudden change in personality. He'd seen it several times over the last few days, but it didn't get any less creepy. They had her programmed all right. Christ, he really didn't want to know what Stephanie was going to be like when she woke up. Haley was one thing, but Stephanie acting like this? That was almost a whole new type of weird. He sighed, and looked at the girl in front of him. She still reminded him of a kicked puppy. He was getting soft in his old age.
"I think there's some introductions in order," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to guide her into the main cabin. The door slid open as they approached, revealing Tank's broad silhouette. He stepped aside to let them in and both blinked a little as their eyes became accustomed to the light. Les nodded his thanks. "Haley, this is Tank."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Tank," she said, stepping forward to offer her hand. He hesitated as if he was about to say something, but changed his mind and took it in his much larger one.
"Just Tank," he said finally. "It's a street name."
"Oh." Her brows knitted together in a frown. She looked down at their hands and back up at him. "Have we done this before? I mean..."
Tank's teeth gleamed white as his face broke into a huge smile. "Yeah," he said, sounding relieved. "Yeah we have." And she found herself engulfed in a bear hug.
After a few moments, Tank released her, still smiling. They hadn't even hoped that the girls would start remembering anything for a while. Haley's sense of déjà vu was a breath of fresh air as far as he was concerned. It was about the first hopeful sign he'd seen since the whole cluster fuck kicked off.
"Good to see you, short stuff," he told her gruffly. Haley smiled, obviously pleased though she couldn't have known what she had done.
Les pointed her toward Ash, who was draped lazily across his chair watching the proceedings with amusement. His green eyes watched Haley intently, taking in the details, assessing her.
"Ash, he's out of St. Louis," Les explained. Haley offered her hand, and he accepted it before standing up quickly to pull her into another hug.
"You had us worried, brat," he said affectionately and grinned down at her. Haley shifted her weight, fidgeting under his gaze. There was something unnerving about Ash, as if he was waiting for the just opportune moment to outmaneuver her in some game she wasn't even aware of playing.
"Sorry about that... I wish I could remember," she said apologetically.
"Don't worry about it," another voice spoke up, distracting her from the unsettling Ash. She turned to the swarthy, extremely large, extremely buff young man in the driver's seat and found herself meeting his piercing chocolate eyes with considerable more ease. He was different from the others she had met; just as alert and dangerous but he was somehow less... foreign? He smiled. "I'm Dante," he said, and his accent was more noticeable. Okay, foreign wasn't the right word, then, she thought with a smile.
"Nice to, um, meet you again?" Geez, how many of these guys were there? Dante laughed like he'd heard her thought.
"Same here, sweetheart."
"There's nine of us," Ash said, answering her unspoken question. She blinked at him. Great, psychic commando yachting pirates of the Caribbean.
And people thought she was crazy?