Sych: Hehe, thanks. I like the last line too, cos it summed it all up. Well, it is two dilemmas isn't it? just very different from each other. Logan is having difficulties with his daughter, and Scott is having difficulties controlling himself around Siren!
Blix: I like writing her nervousness, heh, I really sympathised for her. And Logan will see Madeline again, don't worry (:
Calandra: I'm glad you liked the lesson. I did try to make it as real as possible. And Logan teaching a class? Lol, he'd end up skewering someone to the wall!
Chapter 14Those falling tears still fell, but they were dead to her face, the freezing cold winds had numbed her flesh. If only it could numb the raging torrents of burning anger and grief inside her. Madeline slowly walked down the street, her boots gently crunching through the snow that had settled upon the streets of New York. It was only early morning, the lip of gold blushed through the horizon. She had been walking from the mansion all night, and even when she reached the dark streets of New York, she didn't stop walking.
Her frozen form walked stiffly down the cleared paths through the park. The skyscrapers stretched majestically all around the park, but this little spot of green haven remained. Though now it's beauty had grown into the stunning carpet of brilliant white, the glistening branches of naked trees, the sheen of ice across the lake. Madeline held Blake closely to her, he was wrapped inside the top of her coat, nestled upon her bosom, his head peeking out and staring up at her sadly.
Her tears still fell, droplets running over the crimson flush from her cheeks. Her lips quivered gently as she breathed shivering as their exhaled misty breath to her cold surroundings. Slowly, her glassy eyes lifted as she stared across the park. Then, like a beacon in a dark night, the name upon one of the skyscrapers glowed at her. Harding Research. Madeline licked her lips gently as she stared at the name. Harding Research.. that was the company her mother worked for! And she knew all she wanted to do now was find her mother and get away from.. Logan.
With a new hope she speeded her walk, jogging gently through the snow towards the designated skyscraper.
Madeline pushed on through the double glass doors of the building. A modern room swept into view. A gleaming wooden floor shone from the soft rays of morning sunlight. The pale blue walls sat around her, perfectly clean. Various plant pots scattered around one large sofa, a small table beside it indicating some sort of waiting area. Christmas decorations scattered this room, including a very large and beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the corner. This was beside a large curved desk that took up the left of the room, and behind it was a young woman. Sleek brown hair was pulled into a neat bun, and rimless glasses sat upon bright blue eyes. She sat typing into a computer, unaware of the young girl that had entered the reception area.
Madeline brushed the snow gently from her form before she walked up to the desk, leaning gently upon it. The receptionist swivelled her eyes from the computer monitor. Her rather blank expression twisted into a bright and cheery smile, "Good morning, welcome to Harding Research, how can I help you?"
"Er.." began Madeline, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with an index finger for a moment. "My mother works for you.. she's called Roxanne Jones. I wondered if you could contact her for me."
"Of course," replied the receptionist with the same wide and sickly smile of faked happiness, "Do you know which department she is working in?"
"Er.." said Madeline again, "Not really.. but I know she went to work in London."
The receptionist nodded her head, "Ah, yes. A few of our staff went over there. Just hold on a moment whilst I ring the British base."
Madeline nodded her head gently in response, waiting patiently as the receptionist turned to the shiny black telephone and picked it up off the hook with her long slim fingers, nails devilishly scarlet. Madeline watched as the receptionist chewed gently on the end of her pen, patting in the numbers and then listening to the ringing tone.
"Good afternoon. This is Janice Poole from Harding Research, how can I help?"
"Hey, it's Angelina Frederickson from New York's Harding base."
"Ah, hello."
"Hey, could you put me in touch with.. Roxanne Jones, please. She was one of the staff sent over a while back."
"Of course, just wait one moment."
The receptionist named Angelina tapped her fingernails gently on the desk, glancing over to Madeline and performing the same wide smile. A few minutes later the voice came back onto the telephone.
"Hey, I'm afraid she's not working here anymore."
"Huh?" Madeline saw the receptionist's face look rather perplexed.
"Yeah, she was called up to Canada to work on some Government program for a Mr. Graham Stryker. Were you not informed?"
"Oh! Mr. Stryker! Hm.. but no.. Mr. Stryker never told us he had wanted Miss. Jones."
"Oh, well that's where she is based now. Surely just a slip up in messages."
"Will be," answered Angelina with a smile, "Right, thanks very much. Bye."
"Goodbye."
The phone was lowered with a click upon the receiver. Angelina turned her head back to Madeline and smiled, "Your mother is working in Canada, did you know about that?"
Now it was Madeline's turned to look confused, "Canada?" she repeated, "She never told me."
"Sorry, miss," said the receptionist, though she didn't look one bit sympathetic. That fake smile just remained stuck. "Oi, Robert!" she then yelled, "Give it here" Madeline spun round to see a smartly dressed man walk in with a few papers under his arm. He stopped and grinned to Angelina.
"Here you are Angelina, good job we order these copies, they were going fast this morning." He tossed a folded up newspaper over to her. Angelina laughed softly and waved off the man, who returned the wave before disappearing down the corridor into the offices. Angelina dropped the paper down in front of her, then looking back to Madeline.
Madeline sighed gently, pressing on, "Could you try ringing Canada, please? I really do need to get in touch with her."
The receptionist exhaled a low sigh, pulling the telephone over and dropping it down on top of the newspaper before picking up the phone exaggeratedly, swinging her index finger down upon the buttons. She fell silent as she waited for the phone to ring. However, she blinked and frowned when an automatic voice came down from the other end. "The number you are trying to contact is not available. Please try again later."
Angelina glared at the phone before pressing redial and trying again. Once more, there was no ring tone; it jumped straight to the automatic reply that voiced a problem. Angelina put the phone down, looking troubled.
"What is it?" asked Madeline, tilting her head gently as she watched the receptionist.
"I can't get through. That's never happened before.." she sighed gently, pushing the telephone back into it's corner. As the black telephone was moved away the headline at the top of the paper was revealed and she made a shocked gasp, dragging it up and staring at it. "Oh my God!"
"What?" cried Madeline, looking more confused than ever.
The receptionist trembled slightly, that calm exterior falling away. "Eleven dead in terrorist attack in Canada," she read aloud with a shaky voice, "It's on Mount Rundle! That's where Mr. Stryker's base is!"
Slowly, Madeline felt ice-cold dread flush down into her guts, "Eleven dead?" she repeated, "Where? Who?" she could feel an odd panic overcoming her, as if she was subconsciously preparing herself whilst at the same time trying to push away thoughts.
"The deaths include Government operations manager Graham Stryker, and various staff members of his including Rosa Ivan, Harvey Brown.." Angelina fell absolutely silent before looking up to Madeline with a deathly pale face, "And Roxanne Jones."
Madeline gasped softly, her hands clasping tightly to the edge of the desk, her knuckles turning white as she continued to gasped her breaths, "No.." she whispered, "It's wrong, it's wrong!" she reached forward to snatch the paper off the receptionist, spinning it round to stare down at it, reading the line. Angelina was meanwhile grabbing the phone, hands shaking before she suddenly cried into it, "Mr. Kingsley! Mr. Kingsley!" She screamed, "Canada's base has blown up, Mr. Stryker isdead!"
But Madeline was absolutely silent, she made one gasp before she threw down the paper, spinning on her heel and barging out of the door, slamming people out of the way as she blindly ran, tears beginning to stream down her face, sobs becoming louder and desperate, "Mum.." she whispered to herself, falling into people as she stumbled through the New York rush hour of workers.
But soon, she couldn't run any more, and fell weakly to her knees in the snow. The surrounding people continued to walk around her, stepping by without noticing the collapsed girl. She screamed her tears into her hands, lowering her face to her knees and she sobbed heartbrokenly.
But suddenly, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She ignored it for a few minutes, still crying, until she found an urge to look up. Her eyes met their match, warm eyes of chocolate bearing down at her, "Logan?" she whispered faintly, forgetting all earlier revelations.
"The Professor found you on Cerebro," he whispered. Logan softly lowered beside her, still seeing her cry and shake like she was ready to break. His arms slipped around her and he lifted her in his arms, close to him. He turned and strode through the crowd of people, walking through the constant oncoming rush.
As he walked, he heard her softly whisper to him, so quiet that without his heightened senses he would have missed it, "Mum's dead.."
"I know.." he whispered softly in reply, squeezing her arm gently in reassurance that now, he was here.
Not long to the Christmas chapter! Please review!