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Chapter 270: Hostage Situation

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Dan had no trouble with the ghosts here. They were, after all, the ones weak enough to be captured by humans.

But he didn't understand why Sojourn wasn't ripping through them just as quickly. Sojourn was, to Dan's general disgruntlement.

He had defeated the Ancients before, the Ancients of his timeline, and yet… He shook off the annoying thought. He and the Ancients were, for better or worse, on the same side now.

So. Why wasn't the old man pulling his weight? Did Dan have to do everything around here? Was he really the only competent ghost around here?

Although Dan supposed he wouldn't have blamed him if he left with Dmitri. Keeping him out of this was important. Dan didn't think he'd have the necessary resistance to fight mind control off. There was little enough to resist with. He'd barely been alive at all.

But otherwise… Sojourn should have come back to get Sam and her mother. So, why didn't he?

Dan skidded into a standoff. A group of ghosts had beaten off the plant invasion, forming a sort of clearing on the roof, with a sparse canopy, bolstered by ghost shields. A woman in green clothing and red jewelry stood at the center, Dmitri floated in front of her eye and empty red, a hand pressed to his chest.

Ugh, this was going to be complicated.

"And who are you?" asked the woman. Her voice lacked emotion and, frankly, so did the rest of her.

He'd met people like that before. Most of them were fairly normal in their everyday lives. Some of them were good. Some of them were like this.

About average, for human morality, overall.

But it was always strange, to look at a living person and feel so little behind their eyes. Not unsettling. He wasn't the kind of person to be unsettled, but it always felt a little like looking into a mirror.

Sojourn was standing near the edge of the pseudo-clearing, still and focused. So still, Dan hadn't even noticed him at first.

This was a hostage situation, then.

"Well, I suppose I don't need you to answer me on your own," said the woman.

And then, impossibly, there was a slight tug on Dan's mind. He fought it off easily enough, but something with the power of Freakshow's staff shouldn't have affected him at all.

Had he grown weaker? Or were this woman's smaller gems somehow stronger than the massive one Freakshow had wielded all those years ago? Stronger than those of all the desperate occultists he had slain over the years.

… or not so very many years ago, come to think of it.

Time travel was so stupid and complicated. He hated it.

Well. It hardly mattered. Not when he had duplicates sneaking around behind her already.

"Don't," hissed Sojourn in a ghost language Dan hadn't heard spoken in ages, the sounds of it too high for human ears. "She's told Dmitri to tear out his core if we move against her."

That was annoying. "Is whatever she's doing strong enough to do that?"

"I believe so. Dmitri doesn't have enough ego to resist this kind of a thing."

"Couldn't he survive that, though?" He had before.

"So soon after reforming? No. That is unlikely."

"And the control won't turn off if I pummel her?"

"I'm not even sure her jewels are the only or even the primary vectors of the control. It has been some time since I've interacted with human occult circles."

Wonderful. "What if we knock Dmitri out?"

"That is a possibility. I am unsure how much force to bring to bear on such a young person, however."

"He can't be that fragile."

"He's not even two months old," said Sojourn.

The woman looked up. "The trees seem to have stopped moving, now," she mused, her voice low. She most likely didn't intend to be heard. "Very good." She tapped one of her crystals. "Prepare to move out."

"You do have a plan, don't you?" growled Dan.

"I'm hoping she'll give him another order, and we'll be able to intercept her before she can renew this one."

"Not likely."

Thing was, Dan didn't know how much damage Dmitri could take, either. It wasn't like they'd been sparring with each other. Sojourn should have a better idea, but he probably hadn't pressed Dmitri all that hard.

Dan didn't know how much Dmitri could take… and he didn't know how far he could lower his power. Unless… The more duplicates he made, the less power each one had.

Duplicates peeled off him, invisibly, drifting around the clearing, avoiding the other ghosts who were now moving about with a lot more energy than before. He had to do this quickly, before this woman decided to 'move out' for real.

That tug again, this time pushing at his duplicates. He pushed back. He was strong. They were strong. Stronger than this.

Immobilizing Dmitri would come first.

He lunged for Dmitri, keeping his invisibility up. The less power he could put into attacks, the better. He knocked Dmitri out of the air, trapped him between his fingers.

Dmitri started struggling instantly. Then, he started to grow.

Oh, what a great time for him to find a new power. Did no one in this stupid family have any luck at all. He was going to pitch a fit when this was done. One with lots of destruction.

Dmitri screamed, and Dan flipped him over, binding his hands behind his back with an ectoplasmic rope construct.

"Are you seriously telling me you couldn't do this?" demanded Dan.

"Look out!"

Dmitri arced backwards, hard enough that his ribs jutted out sharply and ectoplasm dripped from his mouth and nose.

The woman in green ran, her controlled ghosts picking her up to spirit her away. Yeah. Dan wasn't having that. He sent his duplicates after her, the whole horde of them.

The majority of his attention, however, stayed on Dmitri.

"What do I do?" he asked.

"Knock him out, quickly, before he manages to eject his core."

"What is this, Star Trek?"

"This isn't the time for jokes," said Sojourn, flatly.

Dan knew that, of course. Dmitri was suffering. Dan flicked him, sharply, on the back of his head. The small ghost went limp. Sojourn sighed, relieved.

"Alright," he said, taking the small ghost into his hand, "let's take care of the other problem. Don't kill her. We need to know how she did this." He snapped his fingers, and a portal opened in front of the woman in green, depositing her back on the roof.

Dan instantly pinned her and started stripping her jewelry. He didn't have any pockets. In the past he'd store it inside himself, but… He grunted, and held it out to Sojourn, who opened a portal for him to drop them into. Once all the jewelry was removed, Sojourn opened a portal to banish the woman.

"Where did you send her?"

"Libra," said Sojourn. "I need to get Dmitri medical attention. And hopefully a way to get rid of the mind control. You'll have to pick up the other two. I can't make them out in all… this." He waved his hand at the mist, the squabbling ghosts, and the ghost plants, then disappeared into a portal.

"Well, that's helpful. It would have taken you like five minutes, but no."

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Sam and Pamela got to the ground. The ectoplasmic mist laid a meter thick on the ground, swirling and obscuring anything below it. Sam pulled a branch off the tree and offered it to her mother.

"I'd prefer not to break an ankle," explained Sam, shortly.

"What's the plan now?" asked Pamela.

"I'm hoping one of those cars still has keys in it," said Sam. "Get as far as possible. Unless you know how to fly a plane."

"What?"

"Do you know how to fly a plane?"

"No. Why would you even ask that?"

"I don't know. Sometimes people pull out weird skills at times like these, and we are rich. You could have taken flying lessons at some point. How would I know? I've only known you for sixteen years."

They had reached the cars. "Let's just focus on finding a car that's running, Samikins."

"I have asked you not to call me that literally so many times I can't even count them all."

"I think I hear one running," said Pamela. She scanned the area, then pointed to a car with its doors open.

"Great," said Sam, "let's go."

"Not so fast!"

Because it was impossible for anyone connected to Danny to get a break, there, stepping out from around a car, was Freakshow, wielding that staff, trailing many minor ghosts that shifted to flank and threaten Sam and Pamela.

"Now, now, ladies. Samantha, Pamela. What are you doing in a place like this? Without your little ghostly toy, Samantha?"

"Don't call him that," snapped Sam.

Freakshow clicked his tongue. "Don't be so sensitive. Drop the sticks, hm?"

Sam and Pamela exchanged a glance. There wasn't a good way for them to fight back against so many ghosts. Not without ectoweaponry, not as exhausted as they were. Angrily, Sam dropped her branch.

Pamela, after a beat of hesitation, she followed suit.

"Excellent, excellent. Now, go ahead, into the car, there, there."

The ghosts crowded them forward.

"The back, my dears."

He climbed into the front seat and snapped his fingers. A ghost slid into the front seat. The doors were slammed shut.

"Lovely, lovely. How have you been lately?" asked Freakshow, leering over the back of the seat.

Sam glared. Pamela pushed back, into the seat.

"Oh, now, don't be like that. How about I tell you how I've been. Well, first off, I spent a lovely vacation in the GIW's private prison, then when I finally was freed, I was hunted down by horrible ghosts. Luckily, I escaped them as well, and was able to offer my patriotic service to the president of the United States. Alas, I was once again betrayed, cast aside, but such an opportunity was dropped into my lap, and I thought, oh, maybe world domination was the right career path for me. What do you two think, hm?"

"I think you're insane."

Freakshow cackled. "You would, you would. As if you aren't, thinking a ghost could actually care about you. Where is your 'friend' now? Off playing his own little games? Going about his precious little afterlife? All without you."

Sam stared at him flatly, refusing to let him get under her skin. Because everything he'd said was patently ridiculous. It was both untrue, and entirely beside the point. Sam and Danny were different people. Of course, they'd do different things. It wasn't as if Tucker wasn't off having his own adventure in Pseudo-Egypt.

Freakshow's smile twisted into a grimace. "Well," he said, in an unpleasantly nasal tone. "I suppose you'd better hope he still cares about you a little bit. You're my wonderful guests, now, you see. You'll have the only front seats to my carnival of conquest. Isn't that exciting?"

"How much dirt did you eat as a kid?" asked Sam. "Or was it paint? You're certainly enough of a degenerate."

"Sam," hissed Pamela, alarmed.

"You think you're so funny, don't you? Don't you? You'll be sorry for that. There's no room for clowns in my circus."

He turned back around in his seat and crossed his arms.

"Oh, you'll see, you'll see. When they talk about the greatest show on Earth, they'll be talking about me. And I'll be more powerful than any of all these ghosts. You'll see."