A/N: *Falls out of chair, laughing* Oh, you guys, you guys! I really had you with that T/H thing, didn't I? Oh, boy. That was funny. (Glad you came back, Ever. Had me worried there.) Well, I won't do anything like that again for a couple chapters…let you fall into complacency…but I thank all of you for your reviews. *plug plug plug* Check out black-knight-1988's story, it's got one of the best Mulches I've read at ff.net.
Kudos to slime frog for catching the plot hole in the last chapter that I totally missed—I'll fix that when I got through and rewrite the story (I used the mesmer in this chapter just for you)—go read her A/H songfics, they're absolutely horrible. :-)
You know, the great thing about writing a story with a genius in it is that you can have him know exactly what to do from beginning to end. The downside is when you write something crucial, like "let's got to the ___," and then you have to go clean the bathrooms, return to the story a week later, and find you can't figure out why he said "let's go to the ___." So, if this chapter isn't too good, it's because I was fighting writer's block and amnesia.
Disclaimer: Catch Me If You Can belongs to someone other than me. As for Arty, boy, he ain't mine. Gurlfriend, he definitely ain't mine. My little sister needs to stop whining about the fact that I'm on the computer. You need to read
Chapter 4
A cell, somewhere south of Huntsville
Holly awoke with a pounding in her head in a dimly lit room. The first thing she noticed was that the floor was cement. A further look at the room imparted that the whole room was cement, and that she had two roommates, a tall giant of a man and a lithe, younger blonde girl who was playing with something on the end of her ponytail holder while they both stared at her.
"Butler! Juliet!" she said in relief. "You're all right!"
Butler raised a polite eyebrow. "I'm sorry, do we know you?"
"I don't," Juliet said morosely, still studying the jade ring.
Holly felt a flash of disappointment. For a moment she waged a mental war with herself about whether or not to help them remember; the remembering side won, telling her professional side she was way out of her assignment parameters and the extra help would be good in the long run.
"My name's Holly Short," she introduced herself, sitting up. "I'm a Captain in the LEP, that is, the Lower Elements Police. I'm an elf, and so is my boss, Commander Root. A friend of mine is named Foaly, he's a centaur."
They stared at her, and she saw a flash in their eyes as they processed something. "You're not Holly," Juliet said suspiciously. "Holly's only three feet tall."
Holly groaned. She'd forgotten about Foaly's Miracle Mud Maid concoction. "I assure you I am Holly. Foaly had an experiment for me to try and it hasn't…quite worn off. Yet."
Butler studied her. "Tell me why I can't breathe properly."
She released her breath. Easy. "During a healing after you had been shot right beneath the heart, a bit of Kevlar from your bulletproof vest was trapped among the fibers in your skin, therefore restricting your breathing."
He shook her hand. "It's good to see you again."
"And remember me?" she said slyly, returning Juliet's hug. "That's what your master said."
"Artemis? You've seen him?" Butler demanded. "Where is he?"
She bit her lip. "Currently in a holding cell in Huntsville, Alabama. I was going a little over the speed limit and we were brought in. The last thing I remember was telling him I was going to get him out of there, and then I fainted."
The bodyguard looked murderous. "What's going on?" Juliet asked, trying to divert her brother's attention.
"Opal Koboi's escaped from prison," Holly explained. "Apparently she has plans for revenge that include Butler, Artemis, and me."
"That's the woman who came to see us earlier," Juliet said. "She was disappointed when we didn't remember her."
"I'd imagine so. Short, dark hair, mentally unstable?"
"That's her," Butler confirmed. "Of course, looking back, it's obvious. But what about Artemis?"
Obviously the guardian was not going to forget his charge. "Actually, he'll probably be okay," Holly told him. "The United States government is going to see him."
"He's doomed," the Butler siblings chorused. "If they get hold of him he'll end up in prison."
"He told me he'd been going somewhere near straight recently," Holly said.
"Oh, he has. But he still has software that diverts funds from certain businesses to Princess Di's charities, and that's not something that endears him to the government," Juliet said. "To put it mildly."
Holly sighed. "We'll just have to hold out that he'll weasel his way out of this one without any magic or advanced technology."
Holding cell
Artemis sat in a meditative pose in the corner of his cell, trying to keep his anger and guilt under control more than trying to formulate a plan of escape. Anger at being alone and practically helpless, and guilt at being unable to help Holly. Loneliness, too, a wish for Holly's company, had him worried. She was just a girl, for heaven's sake. He could manage without her.
Well…perhaps not now. Right now it would be very useful to have a Neutrino 2000 or something equally strong and capable of blowing things to bits. Blowing things to bits was not Artemis's specialty, but it would probably be more useful now than any of his other plans, which mostly involved things such as computers and other people.
Edit that. He was not practically helpless. He would never be reduced to that unhappy state unless he was robbed of his IQ, and that hadn't happened yet. Although the recent influx of his hormones was threatening to drop the quotient level.
He was back where he had started when someone arrived outside the cell and said, "Well, Mr. Fowl, you got lucky. A friend of yours has arrived to bail you out."
Artemis looked up to see the intruders. The policeman looked like a regular policeman, but next to him was…
"Mulch?" he said incredulously.
"Mo. Mo Digence, Fowl," said the dwarf, his face twisted into a leering grin. "Now come on. The limo's waiting."
He waited for them to unlock his cell and followed the dwarf outside, still slightly stunned. They hopped in the back of a waiting limousine which screeched out of the parking lot as soon as the door closed.
"Now, Artemis," the dwarf said, curiosity now the reigning emotion on his face, "please tell me how you happened to remember who I am, considering the last time I saw you, you were about to have your memories of me edited out of your brain."
Artemis sighed, suppressing a grin. "Hello to you too, Mulch."
The dwarf gave a modest bow as best as he could in the car. "Yes, now, please explain to me how you remember me."
"First you tell me how you knew where to find me," Artemis countered.
The dwarf settled back into the plush seat. "Well, I've been living quietly as a multimillionaire ever since my lawyer got me out of prison. I donate to all the charities and I was dropping off a check for a large sum of money to the police station when the chief mentions he's holding a fifteen-year-old until the CIA get there. Real strange, to see someone so young so important to the government. Reminded him of Catch Me If You Can. So I, thinking hey, maybe it's a joke, ask to see this prisoner. And lo and behold, it's the very Artemis Fowl I'm supposed to go to and give this medallion."
He offered the round disk, but Artemis shook his head. "It's not a piece of gold; it's a CD. I wear the real one." He reached for the cord and pulled it out of his shirt, where he had worn it without knowing why for two years. "You were supposed to bring me the CD, which has all of my files, my diary, everything concerning the People. I would like to remove my diary, but beyond that it's—wait." Belatedly it hit him. "Can your driver take us to the airport?"
Mulch pushed a button and the opaque screen behind the driver's seat slid out of sight. "Airport, Jenkins."
"Yes, sir," Jenkins said. The screen slid back up.
"Jenkins?" Artemis asked.
"It sounds good." Mulch rummaged around underneath the seat and pulled out what appeared to be a can of worms. "Now, tell me, why are we going to the airport?"
"That's where my jet is. It also happens to be where my laptop and some of Holly's equipment is."
"Holly? Holly Short? She here?" Mulch suddenly looked nervous.
"No. Opal Koboi kidnapped her."
"Koboi's in prison."
"Not anymore." Artemis pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's what they call a long story, full of loss and confusion and broken speed limits."
Mulch studied him. "And broken hearts?"
Artemis dropped his hand and glared at the dwarf, who smiled innocently (or as innocently as Mulch could smile). "What are you attempting to suggest?"
"Oh, nothing." He still had that knowing smile. Artemis sighed.
"There have been no broken hearts," he said in a flat voice. "Only speed limits."
He wondered if he was lying to himself.
A cell, somewhere south of Huntsville
Butler and Juliet had gone to sleep, at Holly's insisting. She figured she had another hour until Juliet woke up to take over the watch. Very quietly, she touched her throat, running her (well-manicured, pale pink) fingernail lightly over her Adam's apple. Nope. Microphone was gone. Earpiece too. And…she blinked furiously…iris camera gone. But she still had her purse….
Holly unzipped the top of the green handbag, reached in, and pulled out a contact lenses holder, containing two (2) contact lenses. Smiling to herself, she inserted both of them and, after a series of complicated blinking patterns, managed to switch them to ion filter. To her surprise, there weren't any cameras in the room. She went through several other filters and still found nothing. Well. Opal apparently had a few holes.
The outline of the door she could see clearly, a hairline of green under the infrared filter. Looking back to her purse, she pulled out a spare earpiece and fitted it in her ear, covering it with a piece of memory latex to make it harder to see. Finally she pulled out her spare microphone and put it on.
"Testing," she breathed. "Short to Foaly. One, two, one, two. Foaly?"
"Holly?" an equally quiet voice came through (possibly a first for the centaur). "Is that really you?"
"No," she said. "It's a talking stink worm. The missing link between centaurs and microbes."
The silence on the other end lasted for more than a minute. Just as she was beginning to get worried, another voice came on.
"Short?"
Commander Root, speaking quietly? "Foaly, has the Apocalypse come and gone and I missed it?"
"Not amusing, Captain."
"I can't say," Foaly whispered. "Where are you?"
"I'm…in a cell. With the Butlers."
"How'd you end up there? We lost track of you at some point after you left the highway."
"A police car pulled me over. My driver's license apparently has been expired over ten years, so they took us to a station. Opal Koboi knocked me out and took me away," she explained. "I don't know where Fowl ended up."
Haven
Root turned to Foaly, who shrugged. "No tracer, remember?"
The commander reached in his pocket for a cigar and lit it using one of Foaly's active screens. He took a long puff, then removed it from his mouth and said, "Right. Can you see any way of getting out of there?"
"There's a door—I can only see it through infrared, through. This place looks like a seamless box. Are we above or below ground?"
"Somewhere in between," Foaly answered. "Um…hold on…" He clacked a few keys and seconds later they were connected to one of her iris cams. He adjusted it to scan the door, and after a long pause said, "There's no security on that door. Absolutely nothing. Beyond that, I can't say."
"Well." He could practically hear her thinking. "I think we'll just be going, then."
"See you on the other side. Call me when you're out."
"Got it." Her voice changed. "Juliet? Juliet, wake up…"
Root turned to the centaur, whose face was surprisingly bleak. He covered the microphone and demanded, "What's wrong?"
Foaly shook his head slowly. "Opal may be insane, but she's not stupid. I can't figure out why she wouldn't put something on the door. That and the fact Fowl's in jail somewhere fails to make me a happy centaur."
"Right," Root said. "About that not tracing Fowl thing…"
Cell south of Huntsville
Juliet awoke, as did Butler, without much coaxing. "What's up?" she asked.
Holly couldn't help but grin. "Found the door. Opal forgot to take away my field kit."
They nodded and followed her as she pushed against what appeared to be another blank expanse of wall. Butler joined her effort and the door slid away to the left; they found themselves facing a plastic staircase, which led to up to a plastic door. Shrugging, Holly climbed up and opened the door, then heaved herself out into the waiting night. She estimated it had been about twenty-four hours since her capture.
Butler and Juliet joined her. "Where are we?"
"Some place called Alabama," she answered. It was then she noticed four Mud People staring at them, and realized how incredibly silly they must look: she in her evening gown, Butler in a formal suit, and Juliet wearing a loose but pragmatic shirt and pants. Two of the others were Mud Boys and the others looked to be their parents; all stared with confusion on their faces.
"What now?" Juliet whispered.
"Who're you?" one Mud Boy asked.
"I'm Holly," Holly answered, staring at them blankly.
"What were y'all doing in our tornado shelter?" the Mud Man said.
She blinked. "That's a good question. But that's enough questions." She added the mesmer to her voice. "Now, you never saw us. We were never here." They stared at her blankly. Good. "Where are we?"
"Lacey's Spring," the Mud Woman answered.
"How far away is Huntsville?"
"Across the river."
"Thank you. Barney says, go to sleep."
Once they had all fallen to the ground and their snores swallowed by the chirping of cicadas and katydids, Juliet turned to Holly and said, "You just had to do that, didn't you?"
Holly smiled. "One of the perks of the job. Come on, let's go find this river."
Butler inhaled and coughed. "Allergies. You don't think they'd mind if we borrowed their car, do they?"
Holly walked towards the house and discovered an old pickup truck sitting on the front lawn. "Foaly," she said. "Foaly, do you here me?"
"Yes? What does the escapee want?" came the reply.
"Mark where I am on the map, and remind me to get these people a new car. Say, a Z-3."
"Gotcha, girlie."
She gestured to the car. "Butler? Shall you drive?"
He eyed the truck. "Probably best."
Lear Jet
"There's no equipment here! There is no possible way she could have taken it all!" Artemis raged, searching through the compartments in a thoroughly undignified manner.
Mulch watched in amusement. "So, remind me who's after you?"
"Opal Koboi," the teenager said through gritted teeth.
"You think maybe she's been here?"
Artemis stopped abruptly. "Damn."
"What was that?"
He didn't reply, but pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling incredibly stupid. His worry about Holly had become all-consuming and kept him from thinking properly. His emotions had been subtle this time around, slowly filtering out all reason. Of course Koboi would have searched the jet. She probably was laughing at him this minute from an installed camera.
"Well," he said, sitting down and opening his laptop, only to discover that someone had taken out the processor. He shut it angrily and ran a hand through his hair.
"Stressed, Fowl?"
"Shut up," he said, not paying attention to his words. "Let me think."
He wasn't aware of Mulch's stare, but the dwarf's laughter vaguely registered in his reason vs. emotion war-torn brain. "What," he said dangerously, "is so funny?"
Mulch stopped laughing. "I think, Fowl," he said carefully, "you might just be the tiniest bit smitten with one Captain Short."
Artemis looked up, some sarcastic repartee ("I already know your feelings, thank you.") prepared, but instead what came out was, "Of course I'm smitten with her! As if it's not the most obvious thing in the world! She's beautiful and smart and lost and it's my fault and I have to find her!"
He slammed his laptop against the floor, blushed crimson on his face and up his ears and down his neck, and put his head in his hands, feeling utterly and completely lost and out of control.
Mulch at least had the good grace to not laugh. "Well, then," he said, as though discussing the weather. "I suppose we'll have to find her."
"Yes," Artemis said despondently. Damn teenage angst. Damn teenage angst.
"Although," Mulch said, "if you've fallen for a LEP officer, I suppose you've gone straight?"
Artemis, still feeling miserable and embarrassed for bursting out in front of Mulch, for crying out loud, nodded. Then shook his head. Then shrugged and went back to feeling sorry for himself.
"I see."
The angst-ridden, love struck, genius Irish teenager took a deep breath, squashed any and all emotion as best he could, and looked up. "If you would please never discuss this conversation with Captain Short, or bring up my imprudent infatuation around her."
"Got that."
"Now, I believe we are going to return to the Fowl Manor, and from there I shall contact Foaly and Commander Root, read my diary, and formulate a new plan."
"Must we call Root?"
"He and Foaly can track down Holly. And remember, we still don't know what Opal's exact plan is. So, having the LEP on our side will be conducive towards getting them out of my life, again."
"But if you like Holly, do you really want to get them out of your life?" Mulch caught Artemis's gaze and coughed. "I suppose so. To Ireland?"
"To Ireland," Artemis sighed. "For better or for worse."
Russell Cave, East of Huntsville
Unbeknownst to the American National Park Service, Russell Cave actually sat atop an entrance to the underground fairy city of New Haven. There had been mass panic in the city when the place had been opened to spelunkers, but now that no one was allowed excepting the occasional archaeologist, security had become quite lax. Lax as in allowing an escaped criminal wander around freely without having to worry about being capture.
Opal Koboi did not take advantage of this freedom, preferring to stay in a one bedroom apartment jammed with computers and monitors and weapon prototypes. And, of course, her hoverseat. She ran a loving hand over the arm of the seat. It was almost like being home.
Almost, she reminded herself as the doorbell rang. There was a certain privacy you got when you owned a laboratory that you just couldn't get in an apartment. Nudging the joystick, she flew out of the bedroom and into the living room/dining room plus kitchenette, where she pushed a button on the wall to open the door.
Ah, the UPS. Underground Packing Service. The elf in brown cleared his throat and said, "Sign, please?"
Opal flew over and signed her name with a flourish, knowing that the lazy American fairies wouldn't bother checking the name. The elf himself looked to be rather young—probably too young to be legally driving—and bored. He handed her the package and left; the door shut behind him.
She flew back to the hi-tech bedroom, ripping open the package as she went. A note fell on the floor; she picked it up.
Dear Opal (it read),
I was quite pleased to learn you had escaped from prison. As directed, I sent you
this package—I do hope you like it. It's a prototype—not even the LEP has seen the
schematics for this puppy. Ought to be quite useful.
All the best,
Ruby,
Still Taller than You
She grinned, putting the note in her cupholder. Ruby was one of the pixies who had secretly supplied the B'wa Kell with money for their rebellion; the two had been classmates together. Neither trusted the other, but they shared a common goal of takeover and both knew that the other would assist them, even whilst plotting their competitor's downfall. Opal sighed happily. It was so nice to have friends.
Going back to the package, she lifted out what looked to be a plastic balloon, accompanied by a control and a long list of instructions, which fell to the floor. While Opal examined her new toy, the name of it glared up at her: Mud Poison¨.
Bridge over the Tennessee River
Every few minutes the truck made a peculiar choking noise. That coupled with Foaly's nervous grumblings in her ear ("You never should have got on that thing, there's no way it's safe…") were not making Holly a happy LEPrecon.
"Foaly," she whispered. She was sitting in the "bed" of the pickup truck while the Butlers were both inside; there simply hadn't been room for all three. "Foaly, I get the picture. Talk about something that maybe will take my mind off the fact that I'm riding in a moving death trap."
She pulled lotion out of her purse and started applying it to her ears. Heaven knew the stress would probably make them flake something awful.
"Well…we could talk about Fowl," Foaly said. "Root's gone."
"NO," Holly said, partially because she was sick of Foaly's teasing, partially because she suddenly realized she didn't know how she felt.
"Come on, Holly, he's less than a quarter of your age. There's no danger there."
"Danger?" she retorted. "What exactly does that mean?"
"Well…say, shall I tell you
the latest antics of Grub Kelp?"
"You're changing the subject."
"You're the one who didn't want to talk about him in the first place," he countered. "Anyway, Grub—"
"I don't want to hear about Grub," she snapped. "Foaly, shall I review the situation? I'm nearly two and a half feet taller than normal, I'm wearing a dress, I've been arrested and taken to jail, I've inadvertently given Artemis Fowl the Second back his memories, I've met his parents and they think I'm his girlfriend or something, and…right now, I think I could use some vegetables."
"You certainly sound like your metabolism is messed up," Foaly observed neutrally. "Have you eaten at all in the past seventy-two hours?"
"Once or twice, maybe," she answered. "I ate on the jet. Ar—Fowl had some vegetables—organically grown on the manor. Nothing to worry about there." She rubbed her forehead. "I'm tired," she admitted. "I slept a little on the plane, but I'm tired, and I'm not sure why."
"You've also been kidnapped and you know that you have a deranged criminal mastermind after you."
"Gee," she said, "that makes me feel so much better."
"I'm just saying, you're under a lot of stress. I'd be stressed if I looked like a human."
"It's your fault I look like this."
"Eh, I don't think Fowl minds. Makes it easier to look at you."
"Shut up." Irritated, she pulled the earpiece out of her ear, taking the memory latex with it. If Fowl was an infatuated teenager, that was his problem. She had a job to do.
A/N II: *Ducks head with shame* A short chapter and a lame ending, all in one. Sorry, you guys!
To the tune of "Your Song" And you should leave a review 'cause I "wrote" this song It's embarrassingly simple butNow that I'm done
I hope you'll review,
I hope you'll review
And there put down in words
How wonderful you think I am now that my story's in the worldI'll have you know I did that myself. In case you couldn't tell.
¨Now, if you would please note, Mud Poison is a pathetic name for an evil superweapon. I mean, this goes beyond pathetic. But I've got writer's block, and I'm trying to get this up for you, so if someone would very kindly come up with something appropriate for a weapon that kills people, I would be much appreciative. And you'll get a dedication. And…cheese *borrows snake-eyes's cheese* Um…and maybe a mention in my story (I'll name a town after you, how's that? :-) ). It's bad that I read so much science-fiction and can't come up with decent names for anything. Boy, I feel stupid.
