THIEVES IN ATLANTIS

BY TIPPER

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CHAPTER NINE: PLAN IN MOTION

Carson jumped when someone started banging on his door furiously, eyes blinking open in confusion as, for a brief moment, he forgot where he was. The vestiges of whatever dream he'd been having slipped away and he turned his head to look at the green, glowing numbers of his alarm clock.

3:38 a.m.

Groaning, he placed a hand over his eyes, trying to alleviate the throbbing in his head from the abrupt awakening. The banging grew more insistent.

Crap.

Muttering under his breath about protocols and respect for tired doctors, he pushed himself up off the bed with the speed of an old, old man.

Stumbling across to the door, he had enough time to glance down at his half dressed state—T-shirt and boxers—before deciding whoever was there would just have to deal, and opened the door.

"What the hell is so bloody impor…?" The croaked protest died in his throat as he looked down to see Freya on his doorstep, tears rolling down her face and looking scared as hell. Blue eyes, red from crying, were so wide as to make her appear shell shocked, and she shook slightly as she waited for him to react. He instantly squatted down to her eye level, gently resting his hands on his arms and rubbing softly, trying to calm her trembling.

"Freya, what's wrong?"

"Carson," she gasped, "You have to help!"

"I'll try, sweetie," he said gently. "What's happened?"

"Neera…" Freya gasped, choking slightly on her tears, "Neera's hurt…and it's all my fault!"

Beckett's eyebrows lifted, "Hurt? What do you mean?"

"She sleepwalks sometimes, and she did tonight. I never meant to startle her! I never meant, I swear!" And suddenly Freya was Beckett's arms, holding him tightly as she started to sob in earnest. Beckett stood up, pulling her up with him so that she wrapped her legs around him, and she held on as he attempted to soothe the child, running a hand up and down her shaking back.

"Hush, lass, hush," he whispered, drawing her inside the messy room and giving the lights a mental nudge to turn them on. "Now, what exactly—"

"You have to help her," Freya hiccupped, interrupting him. "You have to save her!"

"Okay, okay…" Gently, he put her down on the edge of a table, sitting her there as he leaned over to look her in the eyes, gently tucking some of the long blonde hair out of her face behind an ear. "Just slow down and start at the beginning…."

"She…Neera, she…she was walking…I followed her to the big balcony atop that funny tower on the South pier, near where we're staying, and she got close to the edge. I got scared that she was too close and grabbed her hand to pull her back and she…she…."

"She got startled," Beckett finished, getting the picture clearly. "She fell off?"

Freya nodded, "She landed on some sort of roof below, hard, and she didn't move, Carson! I called and called but I couldn't get her to answer me! So, so I…I found the big radio panel in the hall and called for help. They're sending people. But…but can you come too? Please? Please?"

Beckett's eyebrows lifted, glancing at his quiet radio still resting on the nightstand next to his bed. He wondered a little why they didn't alert him, since most knew how much Freya meant to him.

And then Freya was off the table, grabbing his hand and tugging hard. "Please come! You have to come!"

"I…all right, all right, I'm coming." As he spoke, he looked quickly around his room, trying to remember where he'd left his things. Popping his hand free of her slippery grip, he grabbed a pair of trousers off a chair and hurriedly put them on, then grabbed his gray hooded fleece jacket he jogged in. It was cold outside at night.

Poor Neera!

Freya was crying again, jumping up and down impatiently as he grabbed the portable med kit he kept in his quarters. Finally, he went for his radio…to find it was gone.

"I got it," Freya said, holding it up in her hand. She was already by the door, still bouncing impatiently. "Hurry!"

"Right," he said, following her out the door and then forced to run as Freya took off sprinting down the corridor. "Hey! Hang on! Wait for me!"

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Freya didn't stop running until she was in the transporter, and Beckett slid in next to her. He started to ask for the radio, but the doors were already opening again and Freya was already running down the dark corridor. It was all Carson could do to keep up.

He was panting by the time Freya stopped, standing on a balcony on the far side of the building, facing out towards the sea. The whole area was dead quiet…where was everyone? They should have been here by—

"She's there!" Freya called, pointing downwards.

"Right," he said, drawing in a deep breath, the blood still pounding in his ears from the running. He leaned over the low railing to peer down at the shorter buildings below. The one Freya pointed at had multiple peaks, like saw teeth, resulting in a lot of pitch black shadows between each wedge. He leaned over further—not seeing anyone down there. "Freya," he asked, "Where…?"

And suddenly someone's hands were around his ankles and he was being lifted...and thrown over the edge. The med kit was still in his hand—he never had a chance to catch himself, though he tried, letting go the bag and scrabbling for a grip...

He screamed as he fell, looking back up at the balcony at Neera, standing at the edge, smiling coldly down at him.

The last thing he heard before hitting the roof below with a crunch was Freya's laughter.

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Neera rubbed her hands together, a smirk on her face as she looked down at the little girl. Freya was laughing joyfully at the site of Beckett, crumpled in a heap twelve feet below.

"Did we kill him?" Freya asked, her eyes bright, as she looked up at Neera. "Because I really hope we killed him."

Neera just shrugged, looping a belt around her waist in order to rappel down to the unconscious man. She wasn't quite done yet.

"That's what you get," Freya snapped, staring down again at the still figure far below. "That's for my daddy and my brother! That's what you get for killing them when they came here last year!"

Neera sighed, shaking her head slightly as she finished tying the rope off. "Not so loud, Freya," she said quietly. "Who knows how the sounds echo around here."

Freya just snorted, watching as the woman climbed over the railing and proceeded to lower herself to the balcony below.

Neera touched the top of the peaked roof with a light foot. Sliding gently down the sloped edge to the eave below, she settled next to Beckett and squatted down, looking at him appraisingly.

Freya would be disappointed. Beckett wasn't dead. Though, if he didn't get help soon…he probably would be.

With a sigh, she pulled out the Wraith device from the pocket of the light tack vest she was wearing, and attached it about halfway up one side of the roof from where Beckett had ended up. Switching it on, she smiled as it started to blink softly.

If their scientists were right, it would hide Beckett's life sign from anyone looking for it.

Smiling some more, she twisted and started to climb back up the rope.

Beckett never moved.

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TBC...