Thank you to all those who have reviewed. I decided to introduce Baron Battle next chapter.
I've reached over 1000 hits on this story today. I'm really happy about that, but how bout some more reviews. I know people are reading the story. Even if it's only good job, reviews keep me going.
"Steven," the familiar, authoritative voice seized his attention.
Steve spun around, surprised etched on his face. He hadn't been so easily rattled in years, but exhaustion and fear had taken its toil.
Samuel Stronghold's expression was, as always, perfectly composed.
As a child Steve had worshipped his father. He didn't believe he could do any wrong.
Steve was no longer a child.
His father proffered his hand. Steven reached out and shook it. The Colonel hadn't hugged him when he was nine and his mother died, why would he start now.
Samuel Stronghold a.k.a. The 'Colonel' had been the premier Superhero of his generation. His accomplishments were second to none. His hair had gone white and his face was craggy but he still looked like to could tackle six alien robots before breakfast.
"Why did I have to hear about this second hand?"
"I'm sorry," Steve said, and meant it. "I was going to call you later. How did you find out so soon?"
"One of my old sidekick's son-in-law is on the Security Council."
"I'm surprised that a sidekick has your home phone number. I assume it's not the one who tried to drop you into a burning pit of lava."
"I guess I opened myself up for that one. I have few companions who remember the old days and have the old sensibilities. Marian Foxworth was more worthy than most of my good opinion."
That answers it. You did get along rather well with Marian as I remember.
"Beggars can't be choosers," Steve needled him. The old hurt resurfaced. "A lead has been uncovered but no one knows where Will is? We think the kidnappers will contact us soon." The waved at the phone at his belt. "This phone is patched to my house, thought I suspect they'll call here."
"Steven, I know you are loath to follow my advice but you need to speak with General Thor."
Steve didn't understand. "Why?"
The Colonel looked around to make certain no one was close enough to overhear. The staff was giving them a wide berth. "I've done some checking into the officer running this investigation. His commanding officer was struck with a kidney stone attack last evening. The next in line claims he is too far removed from the day to day operations to take charge, but if you make a personal appeal to Thor, they will have no choice but to replace Stark."
Steve had no idea what his father was getting at. "And why should I want him replaced. I've found him very competent."
Steve could almost hear his father grinding his teeth. "If you were aware . . . "
Steve cut him off. "Let me guess, he's a sidekick. Look around you, Dad. I bet seventy percent of the staff are hero support. I like that he's a sidekick, it means he had to wrk for his rank."
"Are you willing to place your son's life in his hands?"
Steve flinched. "What fucking choice do I have? Give me a reason and I'll boot him out myself, but not because he's a sidekick. And you have a lot of nerve talking about Will like you care about him."
Neither one said anything for a moment. It was funny, how a silence could be so loud. "Of course I care about Will," Stronghold elder told him. "Why do you think I'm such a monster?"
Steve took a deep breath. "I know you care about Will. I don't think this is the time to get into other issues."
"I concur. Where's Josephine."
"She's with Natalie Williams. That's Layla's mother. She's very upset."
"This must very traumatic for her. Why don't we sit down and get one of these competent sidekicks to rustle us up some breakfast. I think you could use it. Then I would like a full briefing," it was obvious to Steve that his father was trying to be polite. Well, if Dad could try, it would be churlish of him not to.
"Fine."
SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH
"Robert," Chief of Staff Ted Strickland hurried down the corridor. "Thank you for coming. I know you've got a lot on your plate."
"It's no trouble," he lied smoothly. He was an old hand at these conversational gambits.
"I'm a little surprised to see you. I thought The Colonel would brief us."
One rule in dealing with the White House, never give them more information than necessary. "He's a bit under the weather. Who will I be speaking with?"
"The President, myself, the Secretary of State, deputy to the Joint Chief. There'd be more but it's Sunday."
Blane blanched, just a bit. This was unexpected. "There is no need to bother the President with this."
"Oh, the President insisted. He wishes to promote closer ties between the Superhero and civilian societies."
And polar bears are ice skating in Hell. What the President wants is to bring metahumans under his jurisdiction, Archer thought as he was escorted into the Oval Office.
"Mr. President,' the Hero nodded to the leader of the free world.
"Mr. Archer I believe," he was not without charm. "Have a seat."
Everyone sat. "Saturday afternoon two members of our community were abducted." Blane told him.
"That's terrible," the President seemed genuinely saddened. "Do I know them?"
"No sir."
"How are they important?"
"One is connected to a high profile Hero. We advise putting the country on Orange alert, just as a precaution. We have put all of our staff on standby and moved some of our people to the East Coast."
"Why the East Coast? Do you expect an attack on the capital? Is there an East Coast connection?"
No one ever said the President was stupid. "We have locked down the supervillain prisons and stepped up surveillance on persons of interest. I promise you, we are in charge of the situation."
"You people say I need to put the country on Orange alert like I'm opening a bank account. What excuse am I suppose to give?"
"Say it was at our request."
"You do know this will cause the Dow to drop 600 points. Or is this country's economy too insignificant to interest you?"
"Sir, if that is the only repercussion, we should all be grateful."
The President was clearly furious. "Per our charter, I have little choice. I deeply regret my predecessors have left me so crippled when dealing with you people." He stood up. Blane stood also. " I hold you to your statement that your people are in control of the situation. If there are other repercussions besides Wall Street, public opinion may shift against you."
Blane caught the threat -- heck, Steve Stronghold might have even caught it. "Good day Mr. President."
After he left, the President turned to his chief aide. "Do you know anything?'
"Somebody's kid was abducted. Don't know who but it's big -- and it sounds like there's an East Coast connection."
"Pretty careless of them."
SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH
CNN Headline news broke away from footage of people fleeing torrential rain to report the Orange Alert. Warren immediately shook off his stupor.
"We have just been informed by Homeland Security that the threat level Orange is in effect. This is at the recommendation of the SuperHero community. The White House, Homeland Security, and Superhero Command declined to provide a specific reason for the increase in threat level, but unverified sources indicate there has been a terrorist incident within the Superhero community. As soon as we have more information to give you, we will update this bulletin."
Warren let out the pent up breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
It had begun.
SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH
It was eight thirty in the morning. Will and Layla were too nervous to make small talk. They were sitting together, cross-legged on the mattress. They both jump up when the door opened.
It was rather anticlimactic. Their jailer was maybe forty, blond, clean-shaven, dressed in a blue sweatshirt and jeans. He looked just like any other blue color worker. Of course, Will told himself, he might be able to throw them against the wall with his mind or make the room's oxygen unbreathable.
"Aren't you a little underdressed for a supervillain."
He surprised the teens by grinning. "Are you always this much of a smart ass, Mr. Stronghold?"
"Being drugged, abducted, and chained brings out the best in me. You do realize my parents are going to kill you."
"I'm certain the Commander and Jetstream are very upset at the moment "
"You know who my parents are and you still did this," Will shook his head in disbelief. "Maybe you ought to see a shrink about this death wish."
"You should feel flattered. They've just put the country on Orange alert and your community is at Red."
Red, my parents are going to kill me.
"Not your community," Layla asked, speaking for the first time.
He looked at her. "I'm not like you. Just hired muscle. I wouldn't use that as an excuse to try anything. I don't have any particular grudge against your lot. If I can't handle you, your next jailer will have a grudge. My name's Peterson."
"What do you expect me to do?" Will said bitterly, rattling the chain for effect.
"Make a fuss – mind you, nobody will hear it. As for that chain, it is reinforced triple titanium. So is the wall clamp. Your ankle will break before it does and there isn't anybody here to set it. He spoke dispassionately as if they were discussing the weather.
"Can I speak to whoever is in charge? Maybe I can help negotiate?"
"He's busy and he doesn't need your help." He turned around and picked up something that was behind the door. It was a breakfast tray. He held it out to Layla. She came to collect it.
"When I come back you're going to call you father and tell him you're all right -- which is the truth."
"Wait," Layla called. Will scowled at her. She ignored him. "Can we have some jackets or sweat shirts and socks? Also towels and warm water and a tube of Neosporin ointment?" This Peterson seemed reasonable so she figured she had nothing to lose."
"Pretty girl like you, I bet you're used to getting whatever you want. Tell lover boy to behave himself with Daddy on the phone."
He closed and locked the door after him.
"Don't talk to him!" Layla couldn't ever remember seeing Will look so angry. Even with Royal Pain, he was more in control.
"I don't know about you but I'm cold," her temper was just as frayed. She put the tray down so she could better spar with Will. "You're not the one wearing pajamas."
"Don't," Will enunciated, "draw attention to yourself."
"Please," she rolled her eyes. "I'm only here to control you. Nobody is interested in me."
"And I'd like to keep it that way," he spoke with such force that Layla nearly took a step back.
She forcefully bit her lip to keep it from quivering.
Will looked devastated. He pulled her to him. "I'm sorry I yelled.'
She wanted to pretend that she didn't catch the drift of his meaning.
He wanted to pretend the thought had never occurred to him.
They both wanted to pretend that they hadn't woken up here.
"Layla, I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He pressed his lips against her forehead. He knew he sounded trite, but it was in his nature to protect the vulnerable. It was in his heart to protect Layla.
Okay, maybe he didn't have the faintest idea how to go about it, but that never stopped him in anything before.
She looked up at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that was a promise he couldn't make, but she didn't. She kissed him sweetly on the lips, then pulled away from him. She bent down by the food tray. Will followed suit.
It was better than they could have hoped. A couple of boxes of frosted flakes, cartons of milk and orange juice, toast and an orange and apple. There was paper bowls and spoons. Layla cracked open the cereal boxes.
"So what are you going to say?" Layla asked. The air was thick with tension and intimacy.
Will looked up, his mouth full of cereal. "Dunno. It's kind of embarrassing."
"Are there any clues you could drop?"
"Just look for a concrete cell. I think we're still on the East Coast."
"Will, we are underground. I'm positive of that."
Will swallowed. Layla would know, but saying that could get them in trouble. He didn't care for himself. . . but Layla. Will peeled the orange and offered part to his girlfriend.
Before long, Peterson was back. He was caring a laundry basket. He kicked the basket into the room. It contained everything Layla had asked for, plus a comb, toothbrushes, and toothpaste. He tossed the phone to Will.
"We've set it up to bounce off three satellites. We'll cut the line before they can trace the call."
SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH SKY HIGH
Steve didn't really feel hungry but he forced himself to eat the eggs and toast.
His father was having no problems finishing off a large breakfast.
Josie had come over. She'd nibbled on some toast. She'd told them that Natalie had been sedated.
It struck Steve suddenly. This was the first time the three of them had shared a meal since he'd told his father Will didn't have any powers.
"Commander," one of the aides rushed up to the family group. "Lieutenant Stark wants you to come to his office right away. We've heard from the kidnappers."
They all took off at a dead run. A couple of employees had to flatten themselves against a wall to avoid being bowled over. About half a dozen people were gathered around Stark's desk.
The speakerphone was on.
Stark was obviously in charge. He spoke into a small microphone. "It will take several days to gather such a large sum of money. "
Steve and Josie shared a look. Supervillains had safer ways of obtaining money they kidnapping children of well-known heroes. Sensitive electronic equipment, weapons, biomaterial, the release of prisoners, that was what they had expected the ransom demand to be.
A disembodied voice answered. "I am aware of that."
"In the meantime, if we could speak to Will or Layla. If I know they are alright, it will allow me to process your demands quicker.
The odd voice answered again. "That was anticipated."
Stark reached out and hit a button; then picked up the phone. "Would one of you like to take it privately?" he asked. "We will tape it of course."
Steve took the phone. He was grateful for Stark's sensitivity. This conversation was hard enough without the room sharing it. He held the phone to his ear and waited for a click.
"Will."
"Dad."
Steve hadn't realized he was holding his breath. "Will, Thank God, are you alright?"
"I'm okay. Layla's okay. She says we're underground. I'm sorry about this," he rushed the words out.
There was something in that sad voice which turned all of Steve's fear and anxiety into burning anger and resolution.
Whoever had done this, they had no idea what they had brought down on themselves.
"Don't," Steve's voice choked. "Don't worry. Your mother and I are going to get you back."
Suddenly the phone went dead.
