Chapter 12: Confrontation
Michael and Kitt watched as the semi pulled into view, across from the park where Devon and Marissa would have gone to, if they had not been in the situation they now were in. The instant that the message had gone out, along with the news, Bonnie and RC had shouted orders to get the vehicle, as well as a few familiar faces, ready to go immediately.
They now went up the ramp that appeared, with Michael getting out the moment that Kitt parked.
"Anything, Bon?" he asked.
She shook her head, then replied, "Kitt, I replayed the first transmission you recorded to the police. They're already asking Dr. Alpert questions."
"It's such a shock that Angela is actually in cahoots with Parkson," was the incredulous statement, "She didn't seem to be the type that would…betray us."
"Yeah, but until you stumbled on Marissa, we didn't know that there was reason to suspect the receptionist. Let's hope that Alpert had no involvement."
"Kitt, are you still receiving the signal from Marissa's comlink?"
"Yes, Michael. If I have a little more time, I believe that I can triangulate her and Devon's position."
"Get to it," Bonnie said tersely, "And in the meantime, we're going to need a plan to get in." She sighed and added in a low tone, thinking it was too low, "She said her wrist hurt…but she didn't have any old injuries in that area, Kitt checked…Maybe she's developing whispers, just like Devon…?"
"What are you talking about? Whispers, just like Devon…?" Michael asked.
Her head shot up and she glared at him. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Yah, I do, and so do you. Bonnie, this past month should have been an example of why you don't lie to your friends. Look, I don't know what's going on that he wants kept secret, but I won't tell anyone. Whatever it is might help us figure out why they want Marissa so badly and killed his sister in the first place."
"Look, it wouldn't help that. All I know is that…Devon, at times, has, well…you know how you have gut instincts?"
"Yeah, we all do. So what?"
"Our gut instincts have sometimes been wrong. Devon has something like that, but much stronger…and they're always right. He's called it a 'whisper in his heart', or a 'whisper in his soul'. The only times that he ignored it led to disaster, the kind that he almost wasn't able to repair." She sighed, "He told me that in confidence. Before you, I was the only one alive who knew."
"Our lips are sealed. Right, buddy?"
"Most assuredly. Bonnie, do you think that Rissie--"
"I think Marissa's starting to develop them too. She definitely activated the comlink and set it on transmit only on purpose."
"And that's probably what's going to save their hides." Michael stated, then remembered something. "Bon, you said you were talking to Rodrigo. What was it about?"
"That's not important right now, amigo."
The reply didn't come from Bonnie, but from Rodrigo Mariz himself, who had just come through the door between the cab and the rest of the semi.
She nodded, "Getting those two to safety is."
"Yeah, but point one is to first find out where they are."
"That I can help with," Kitt stated, "The comlink went out of range a moment ago, but not before Angela and the other driver let an address slip, namely the one where they are taking Marissa and Devon."
"Where?"
"It's an abandoned shipping warehouse, approximately 15 miles from the western part of the city."
"Okay, so that's where we'll go. Kitt, alert me the moment Marissa wakes up or her signs change."
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The very first thing that Devon was able to feel was a sharp ache in his head, as well as though his mind had been switched out with wool.
Too much to drink…? No, one small one…what…happened?
"U-uncle…"
Child's voice…? Looking for her uncle?
"Please, uncle…wake up…"
Hm…? Leave me alone, child…too sleepy.
"Please…uncle…Uncle Devon, you're scaring me!"
The child's voice was calling to him, and she sounded more scared than she had said. In that moment, he remembered.
Rissie!
His eyes opened, slowly. The light hurt his eyes and he shut them for a moment, then opened them again.
"Uncle…uncle, help me…"
Devon could tell from his senses that his wrists were tied with rope behind him. He slowly turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw something that alarmed him.
Marissa's clothing was torn in several spots, her shoes taken. Her arms were behind her, her wrists tied with rope. She had a few cuts on her face, bruises on her neck…
"Good lord," he managed to say, although it came out as a rasp at first, "Rissie…? What did…"
"Uncle Devon! Are you okay? You really scared me, I didn't know if you were ever gonna wake up."
He nodded slowly, although it hurt, then replied, "I…think so. Head hurts, but…Rissie, what happened to us…?"
She blinked back tears. "We got hit with a gas that made us sleep. I woke up a little bit ago, when we first got here. Douglas Parkson was here when we arrived and he…he beat me up again…said it was punishment for escaping."
He shook his head, then replied softly, "I'm sorry…"
"It's okay…I handled it better than I would have over a month ago. But Uncle Devon, he said this: 'You'll be with your mommy real soon. Once you see Verona Miles, give her my regards.'"
He closed his eyes for a moment, then whispered in a low voice, "He means to kill us both, my dear."
"I know."
"But not if I can help it. Rissie…see if you can scoot closer, with your back to me."
"I-I'll try…but how come?"
He smiled and whispered back, "I know a few tricks, dear. You don't live as long as I have, much less be in a war, without picking up some."
"I'm gonna have to ask about that later," she answered as she began rotating in place. Once she knew she was directly facing away from him, she slowly scooted backwards.
"Your comlink," he whispered, "Where is it?"
"Safe. I took it off and turned it on."
"Before we got back in the limo…?"
There was no reply from her, which gave Devon all the answer he needed.
There was a sharp breath at that. "I thought you said—never mind. I am not about to be critical about something that may well save our lives."
A moment later, he felt her hands touch his own. When they did, he began moving them slowly and jerkily.
"Let's see if I remember this…" he murmured, "If I can get myself free, I'll untie you."
She nodded, making a small, affirmative sound.
"Keep an ear out for anyone coming."
A second affirmative sound came from her, then the whispered question, "How long do you think?"
"Not all that long. You know as well as I, maybe more, that nothing will stop him from reaching you."
"Aren't you that way about Michael…? If he got in a situation like ours, wouldn't you do anything to help him…?"
He stopped for a moment at the question. He chuckled before continuing, "Perceptive, very perceptive…and very correct."
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Michael looked about him as the two of them left the city limits. According to Kitt, they were now 15 miles away from where Devon and Marissa were being held. According to the AI, Marissa had awakened first and began the transmission. Currently, it was a discussion, albeit whispered, between Devon and herself.
"Keep an ear out for anyone coming," He had said to her, which had gotten him a little sound.
A moment later, Marissa had asked, "How long do you think?"
"Not all that long. You know as well as I, maybe more, that nothing will stop him from reaching you."
"You can say that again," Michael murmured as he looked about for the abandoned building…and was surprised by what was said next.
"Aren't you that way about Michael…? If he got in a situation like ours, wouldn't you do anything to help him…?"
There was dead silence for a long moment, then a chuckle.
"Perceptive, very perceptive…and very correct. If anything happened to Michael, Kitt or you…I don't know if I could take it."
"Funny, how time does that. Kitty says that you and Michael didn't get along at all when you first met."
Another pause.
"I'll be honest…we didn't, not at first."
"When'd that change?"
"After a situation involving an assassination, it seemed that I had said one thing too many…had crossed the line. Near sunset, Michael had come into my office, announced that he was leaving FLAG for good and…said why." There was a shuddering pause, "He even had his bags packed and in my office, although at first, I didn't believe him…so I didn't see those bags."
"I'm not gonna ask what the fight was about…but when did you realize…?"
His tone sounded grateful that she didn't ask for the reason, but pained in remembering at the same time, "A few minutes later, when I saw that all of his things were gone from his apartments…and Kitt had been left behind."
"What did you do…?"
"When I realized the truth…? I ran."
"Huh?"
"Yes, I literally ran out of my office, left the grounds in the Mercedes and tried to find him. I had thought…that he probably would check into a hotel and then leave the city in the morning."
"Did you find him at any of them?"
"…no." There was a pause in conversation, then, "Ah…now for you." Another pause, then Devon continued in a low tone, "…after I found that he wasn't at any of the lodgings in the city, I parked in the lot of a 24-hour restaurant, feeling that I would never see him again…that it was too late to make amends. It's…not exactly safe to drive when you can't control your own pain…" There was a tremor in his voice. "Someone up there must have been watching and had provided one last chance…because while I was an emotional wreck in the lot, I faintly heard a noise and looked up. Michael was at a booth inside. He was planning on drinking plenty of coffee and dinner before heading for the next city…"
"And you managed to talk to him…?"
"Yes," they heard, and Devon's voice had strengthened. "We didn't return to the Foundation grounds until well into morning. Rissie…don't tell Michael about any of this conversation. I'd rather he not know that I had been crying in that parking lot."
"Uncle, how can I seal my lips?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because, well…when someone asks to not tell another person something, they always say, 'My lips are sealed'."
There was a pause, then a soft laugh at that.
Michael looked a bit stunned as he heard all of this. He had not known that little bit of information. When he had seen Devon's appearance that night, the Englishman had chalked it up to fatigue.
"Kitt…I won't tell if you don't."
"Deal."
Devon said, "All right. D—"
There was a new voice over the comlink, a nasty one.
"So, you two are awake, huh…? Good thing you got in some conversation in, because that'll be the last one you have."
"Kitt! Floor it!"
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In front of Marissa and Devon was someone that the girl had seen for seven years of her life.
"Uncle Devon…this is the one. Douglas Parkson."
His gray eyes sparked in fury. "I want to know one thing out of you…why!"
"Why what? Why did I kill Verona Miles? Or why I took this little piece of trash with me?" He growled, "They're both trash. I think I'll let you figure out why I killed the woman in the afterlife. But as for the filth, that was a special project in itself."
"Stop calling me that!" Marissa snapped. She shot to her feet, her uncle having just gotten her free when he had come in, "I'm not trash or filth!"
He growled and took something behind his back, a crowbar, and swung low, to the legs.
She jumped to the right, but the blow connected with her left lower leg instead of both, and Marissa collapsed to the floor. He then moved to hit her again.
Devon began to move to strike the man, but Parkson growled, "You do and she dies right now."
"That's supposed to stop me? You're going to kill her anyway."
"Difference is, a clean death or a messy one, Redcoat?" He snorted, "No, I'm not going to insult the British." He then used the crowbar to strike the Englishman in the leg.
"Leave my uncle Devon alone!" Marissa, sounding rather protective and angry, scrambled to her feet.
"Shut up, slave! I can still salvage you."
"I'm not a slave," she retorted, "I am Marissa Celeste Miles, Devon Miles' niece!"
He growled as he grabbed her arm, "Is that so…? Here, I go and give you one last chance to break this brainwashing this filth did, and you go and say that. Well then, little brat, that's exactly how you're going to die. Give your mom my regards when you both see her."
He then turned his head, ordering, "Angela, bring your pistol—"
Marissa blinked as though keeping back pain, then brought her other leg down on his foot, full-force.
Parkson growled, feeling the pain, and moved to backhand her across the temple.
Almost immediately, she punched him exactly in the spot that she had been practicing.
Just as the bigger man dropped into a crouch and let go of her, there was a loud explosion on the far end of the huge room.
Devon looked in the direction and saw a very familiar and very welcome black Trans-am making its way through the hole in the wall.
At the same moment, Marissa collapsed.
The noise brought in Angela from the doctor's office, who had a pistol in her hands, as well as the fake driver, who looked about like any man from Texas and was equipped with a steel pipe.
The driver's side door opened and Michael emerged, first going after the limo driver by disarming then knocking him out with a swift karate chop to the shoulder.
Behind Kitt, RC came in and immediately went to the woman and brought out a very familiar weapon from his days as the Street Avenger.
"I'd drop that if I were you, sweet cheeks."
"That's not even real," she sneered.
"Maybe, maybe not. Is this one real…" he asked as he unholstered an Uzi, "Or is this one? Drop it."
She paled and dropped the weapon.
While this was going on, Kitt closed the door and went straight for Parkson. By the sound of the roar, Michael could tell that he was out for this man's blood.
The murderer unholstered a handgun and aimed it at the car's hood, then decided to aim a bit lower at the red scanner.
He fired, but Kitt had anticipated that and moved in an arc, causing the bullet to hit to the right of the weak spot.
As he completed the arc, the driver's side door swung open and hit the man in the upper legs.
"That's for seven years of abuse and for the rape!" the AI said, truly angry.
He growled and struggled to his feet…just in time to see Devon before him.
The Englishman's expression was pure rage as he socked the other man in the jaw.
"That's for my sister!"
Parkson looked dazed from the punch, but decided to try one last time to take out at least one of them and raised his gun…at Devon.
Michael was nearby and saw this. Without a single thought, he charged at him from behind in a bulldoze move. When this connected, Parkson stumbled forward and dropped his weapon…and the Englishman grabbed him by the throat, beginning to squeeze.
I'm going to kill him, he remembered in the clothing store.
"Devon, no," he called out in a neutral voice, "You don't want to do this."
"The bloody hell I don't!"
"Michael's right, Devon. I want him to pay too, but not like this."
"Murder, rape, abuse…" he growled as he tightened his grip.
"This isn't the way to do it. These jackals will get theirs, but I don't want you to go to jail for murder, man," RC put in, edging closer to try to break the choke-hold.
"U-uncle…Uncle Devon…"
Devon's head snapped around to his right, where Marissa was trying to stand.
"Marissa…"
"Yep, it's me. Rissie. If you kill him, they'll take you away too, right…?" she asked, "Uncle Devon, I don't want you to become Parkson…and I don't wanna be left alone…"
"Marissa's right," Michael added, "What'll happen to her if you go to prison or death row…?"
The expression on his face became unreadable for a long moment…before he let go of Parkson and turned to his niece fully.
The man fell to his knees, gasping for air.
Michael sprang forward and picked the man up, keeping his arms pinned behind him.
A moment later, there were the sounds of sirens and car doors slamming closed as the police arrived.
Marissa cried out once and fell back to the floor.
"Rissie…?" he asked, voice hoarse with emotion.
"Uncle…?"
"Can you stand, dear…?"
She shook her head, "No…"
He nodded, kneeling beside her as he examined her legs. Her right ankle was swelling and her lower left leg didn't look good either, as it was at a wrong angle. Devon found a couple of boards close by and grabbed them, then removed his jacket and started shredding it to cushion the ankle first.
"Check her stats, fast!" Michael said, seeing this. Devon never tore expensive clothes if he could help it, this he knew. For him to do this now meant--
"I already did. Her lower left leg is broken, while her right ankle is severely sprained. There are numerous other injuries, but these are the most serious."
Devon finished making the splint for her leg and could faintly hear the police arresting Parkson as well as his cronies as he then carefully scooped her into his arms.
"Kitt," he said as he rose, "We need to get Rissie to a hospital."
One of the officers heard this, turned and nodded reluctantly after a moment. "We'll get statements at the hospital later."
