MIRAGE: ESCAPE FROM NOMANISAN by CapitaineCartoon
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapter eight is up! REDEMPTION
The story is now complete. You will find complete author's notes and thanks in the last chapter, after the story.
SUMMARY: Syndrome is dead, leaving Mirage in control of Nomanisan. In possession of a deadly secret she must flee the island. Someone is determined to stop her.
RATING: This story is rated T (the old PG-13) for dark realistic violence, mild language and suggested sexuality.
DISCLAIMER: Pixar and Disney own Mirage and the Incredibles (sigh)... This is fan fiction to share on the World Wide Web for the purpose of expressing non-profit creativity. Please don't sue me.
MIRAGE: ESCAPE FROM NOMANISAN
CHAPTER ONE: INHERITANCE
The rocket made a deafening roar as it lifted off launch pad number two. The powerful engines expelled tons of burning gasses, making tremors that resonated throughout the whole compound. In the control room an empty glass vibrated, slowly creeping toward the edge of a mapping table. Mirage watched it crash to the floor, but didn't flinch when the sound reached her ears. It was like a slow motion dream, everything in a haze where time seemed to have stopped, memories frozen, and suddenly without warning emotions unraveling like a flood at the sound of crystal breaking.
They're gone. I wonder how long it will take before Syndrome realizes that I set them free? she said to herself.
She was still under the shock of what she had done, helping the family fly away in the backup rocket, sending them directly to freedom, and to foil Syndrome's plan... She was in shock, not because that good deed would not go unnoticed by Syndrome or the government agencies tracking him, but by the fact her cover had been blown prematurely by anybody who did the math on who freed the Incredibles. It was a good feeling, though. It was satisfying, like the feeling you get when loose ends are tied, or when you cross a finish line in a marathon.
I don't have much time, she thought.
She left the control room, taking the elevator to the first floor of Syndrome's living quarters. The large apartment was empty and quiet, only the soothing sound of geothermal turbines humming somewhere in the lower understructure filling the silence. The large volcanic rock walls were tall and smooth, paintings of modern masters carefully positioned upon them. Picasso's 'Les Demoiselles d'Avignon' was Mirage's favorite, the women in the frame looking so carefree, dancing in an endless loop... After climbing the spiral staircase, she walked slowly towards the panoramic window that made the south wall. The large room, inundated with sunlight, was sparsely furnished with exquisite furniture from different eras of the twentieth century. Syndrome, as oblivious he was to many things, had always been sensitive to form and function.
Slipping into a leather and chrome lounge chair tucked in the corner, she looked up to see the slowly dissolving trail left by the rocket. Her green eyes focused on infinity.
I can't erase the log files; they'll see that I was the one who punched in the authorization for liftoff. Can't even bluff my way out this, can't call out to get some help... I didn't have many friends here before, but with Syndrome away, I have none. Not that he was one anyway... She frowned. He never did trust me completely. He kept some administrator privileges to himself, even though as much as I tried to get them, I only got this far...
She felt her stomach squeeze as she tried to organize the task at hand.
Saunders frowned as he looked at the computer screen. Wonder why she launched the rocket? He leaned forward. Wait a minute... Going back to systems status check, he noticed cell block 13 had been emptied of its contents, its super-human contents... On the surveillance wall video, one of the screens showed a group of his men piled up on one another, slowly stirring back into consciousness. He reached for the general alarm, but paused as his index finger touched the large button.
Did she set them free? She obviously couldn't handle what the boss wanted to do with the supers, he thought. It made sense to him that she didn't want to go that far. But, why? She hadn't been with Syndrome for long... Actually, she came in for the last operation, from god knows where, every single background check coming up empty. Saunders kept thinking. The boss was obviously happy to have her on the island, seeming a little bit blind to the fact that she could be a security breach. He mused on. But she was, after all, the only woman around and by the way she looked no need for anyone else... Syndrome was possessive, with good reason. He marked his territory by plainly announcing that he'd kill anyone who'd touched her.
Saunders was annoyed with that idea.
Doesn't add up, he said to himself. The white haired angel has to know more than she lets on. I should have a talk with her...
A wave of excitement rushed through him at that thought. She had always avoided him in the past, never engaging in anything beyond what was just operational babble. She barely looked at him when they spoke. That crushed him, but at the same time he couldn't help savor the way she couldn't hide her unease in his presence. She despised him and he knew it, but the pain he felt was mixed with the pleasure of stalking a prey. She would eventually give in.
Just a question of time, he said to himself.
The boss had never been away like that before. He didn't know what to think of that. He removed his finger from the alarm button. Taking a deep breath, he turned on his heels and slowly headed out of the control room.
Mid afternoon had passed long ago, the sun starting to set on the horizon. Mirage didn't know how long she had been in the chair looking out. She didn't hear the elevator door opening downstairs in the art room but heard the familiar footsteps, a sound that made her increasingly uncomfortable as it grew louder. She hesitated. Should she get up and wait for the Captain defiantly or go on staring outside, has if nothing happened? She chose the latter, bluffing being a habit of survival.
Saunders reached the top of the stairs puffing, his face red. He was sweating more than usual. He stood there, trying to control his breathing to hide the fact that climbing stairs was more strenuous that he wanted to show.
He saw her a few meters away resting on the lounge chair. Saunders couldn't speak. He had always been dumbstruck by her beauty, ever since the day he first laid eyes on her. Looking on, he could only feel a heart wrenching wave of despair, knowing she'd never be his, forever out of his reach. He wanted to scream out and defy the unyielding force of the universe that opposed him, to make it bend to his desire to change the fact that they weren't to be. But he never did.
He only could wish time had frozen to keep the image he saw...
Mirage's long slender legs were gracefully crossed on the soft leather. The warm sun shining inside enveloped her smooth olive skin in a soft glow; the light rays absorbed and diffused like an inner source. She delicately held a cup of tea, absentmindedly looking to the horizon. Her hair, fine and the color of snow, curved gently on her shoulder as she leaned on her side. It revealed her aquiline profile, flowing like an Egyptian queen of long ago.
No, Saunders had never seen such a beautiful woman before, and knew he would probably never again.
She turned slowly to the Captain, her rich lips in a tired smile, almond eyes closing slightly. Only the sound of her silk skirt stirred the air.
"Hello, Captain Saunders," she said softly. "What is the purpose of your visit?"
Mirage saw that the short fat man in front of her was obviously fighting for his breath and composure. He was repulsive, she thought. She was irritated at the fact that he always tried to impress her with his position within the hierarchy of the island, worried at the leering glances he gave her when he had the opportunity. The way he always had a hand on his holstered colt 45 was especially alarming... She was experienced with guns since it was part of the mandatory training at the farm. She was weary of the damage a dum-dum bullet could do to human flesh. Saunders tampered with his ammunition to give it that little edge, where simply filing a cross pattern in the lead bullet would make it shatter on impact leaving a gaping hole in the unfortunate target. Such practice was banned by the Geneva Convention for good reason.
"Miss Mirage?" finally, the Captain said. "The backup rocket was launched about an hour ago." He paused.
"It seems you entered the authorization codes for launching, Miss Mirage..." Mirage sat upright on the chair. She knew that it would come to that; she just needed to buy time.
"I'm a little bit confused," the Captain went on. "Didn't Mister Syndrome schedule a launch three weeks from now? The trajectory is also the same as the first one... I'm not in the know concerning all of Mister Syndrome's ideas, but, is everything going according to plan?" He would not mention the empty cell block and his guards being knocked out.
Mirage stared at him. "Why, thank you Captain for your concern with the mission... Yes it's true; Syndrome and I made last minute changes to the program. I suggested to him that adding the second rocket a while later would create a much more dramatic effect on his little 'mise en scene'. We simply didn't have enough time to program the entire sequence, so I had to do it manually. Does this satisfy your curiosity Captain? Have you contacted Syndrome?"
Saunders fidgeted. "No Ma'am, we seem to have abruptly lost contact with him over the city's suburb... We are still trying on every stealth frequency". Mirage held her breath.
Had they managed to take Syndrome down? She wondered. Was he simply covering up his tracks by making dead air? What about the city and the Incredibles? She thought, staring at Saunders.
Did he know I set them free? If he doesn't he'll soon find out. I don't have much time...
She turned to hide her unease. "Captain Saunders," she said getting up, "I'm going to the communications room to monitor the situation. Thank you for your information." She walked towards him. She tried to sense if he knew about the Incredibles. The answer came fast.
"It seems that the group of Supers we captured earlier has managed to escape. Their whereabouts are for the moment unknown. The units are scouring the island."
Saunders was staring at her, trying to read her. Mirage feigned surprise and anger.
"Captain, you better make sure you find them and bring them back before Syndrome returns. He wouldn't be pleased with your performance and might be tempted to terminate your contract with the organization. I'm sure you'd find that regrettable, Captain." She glared at him. She moved closer. Being taller than he was she towered over him. "Please report to me every fifteen minutes. You're dismissed Captain," she said dryly.
Saunders felt his blood pressure rise as he lowered his eyes. "Yes, Miss Mirage." He turned and disappeared down the stairs.
This is getting worse and worse... Mirage thought. She walked to the elevator. I must get a better picture of the situation, I can't do much now.
The elevator opened outside onto a waiting platform. In front of it, a thin rail led into the jungle. After a few seconds an egg shaped transport pod came gliding in, humming softly to a halt.
"Pod, communications room," Mirage said to the on board computer as she got in. As she lay back in her seat, her mind raced with what she just heard from the Captain. She took a deep breath.
"Pod, stop!" she ordered. The module halted. "Pod, central computer room." Gently, the egg-shaped unit spun on itself, and accelerated in the other direction. The pod eased to a halt besides another small entry platform. Mirage stepped out, and walked quietly towards volcanic rock doors. They opened silently. She walked in glancing left and right. The large room was empty, a long dining table still having not been cleared up. Syndrome ate here before leaving, she thought. Her steps were resonating as she went towards the molten lava wall.
"This is Mirage, authorization Alpha-One thirty-four thirty-two..." As the words came out of her mouth, a rumbling sound filled the entire room. The lava wall separated in two, like the red curtains of a theater slowly drawn, waving gently.
She started walking on the narrow path revealed. As she stepped forward, the lava wall glided back to a close behind her. The darkness that engulfed her, except for a faint glow coming from far away below on either side, was pushed back by the pathway lights. Anyone who strayed outside this safe passage would fall for what would seem an eternity into the lava simmering somewhere on the bottom.
Mirage reached the end of the platform where a computer console lay quiet. She sat at the controls, which immediately sprung to life as sensors recognized her identity. Passwords were just an option, available only for lesser operatives on the island. A privilege Syndrome had given her at a high cost, she said to herself, frowning. Very high.
The bastard, she shivered, focusing again on the task at hand.
She took time to reflect on when to take the next step of her endeavor, but the timing had to be right, and she had to make sure of the actual situation.
We've been cut off for a while on our own transmission frequencies, she thought. But sometimes there are easier ways to get the information you're looking for... She typed a few commands, and the giant screen lit up to reveal the local Metroville news. Syndrome is attention hungry, his little stunt was bound to get some air time... She leaned back in the chair to listen to the newscast.
Saunders almost choked on his cigarette as he got closer to the small television screen. The television coverage had been mainly focusing on a giant robot destroying the city's downtown... The area being cordoned off, information was limited. It seemed that the robot had been taken care of by what appeared to be a group of Supers. But even then, no official word on the exact situation.
What made Saunders gasp was the breakaway news that a small plane had disintegrated above the city's suburbs some time after the robot ceased its activity. The screen showed the burning wreckage of a familiar design. Rescue crews were talking about at least one casualty, body parts recovered matching to video footage of a mysterious man who had earlier identified himself as Syndrome and who, for a brief moment, had battled with the large robot before disappearing.
Saunders put out his cigarette, when he saw a group of people talking about escaping narrow death, as their house was destroyed by the falling plane. Their faces looked familiar and even though they had already donned civilian clothes, he recognized Mr. Incredible and his family. He stared blankly at the screen, when a voice on the main PA system pulled him back to reality.
"Attention all personnel, this is Mirage speaking... There has been a change of plans. It seems Mr. Syndrome will not be coming back. Therefore, I'm informing everyone that I've taken over management of the island. That is all."