SEVENTEEN
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Lenore sighed, running her hands through her hair. "Kato… I'm sorry. But you already know there's only one option here… You have to delete that picture from her phone."
He looked at his feet. "I know."
"So… are you able to do it before she gives it to someone?" she asked gently.
"Probably."
She got up and went over to him, putting her hands to the outsides of his shoulders and squeezing. "I'm sorry to have to ask you to do this. But you have to."
"She doesn't deserve it," he muttered, meeting her eyes.
She bit her lip at his puppy-eyes expression. "I know," she said sadly. "Believe me, I know."
"But you can do it, right?" Britt called from his seat by the laptop.
Kato looked round her to glare at him. "I said I can and I will."
"Sorry," Britt mumbled. "But… like… now?"
Kato sighed. Lenore let him go, going back to her chair. She turned it to watch him, seating herself. "Do you need me to help?" she offered quietly.
"No," he said miserably. "I can do this." He pulled out his phone, scrolling through names. At last he looked at Lenore. She nodded. He tapped the green key and cleared his throat. He waited - and then he jumped, as if only half-expecting someone to answer. "Hi yes - can I speak to Joanie, please. K Ger," he said.
Lenore looked around at Britt. He spread his hands in cluelessness. She turned and looked back at Kato.
He was talking to someone in Chinese, his face a picture of reluctance, before he listened, answered something, and waited some more. Then he sighed. He nodded and said something else - and then cut the call. "Done," he mumbled. "Maybe an hour."
"What?" Britt gasped. "Who was that - what just happened?"
"Someone who can remote-wipe things from iPhones, ok?" he snapped. He went to the door.
"Kato," Lenore called. He paused but did not look round. "It was the only thing you could have done," she offered.
"It's still a bad thing," he grumped. He opened the door and was gone.
She turned and looked at Britt. He put his elbows on the desk, letting his face fall into his hands. "Well shit," he sighed. "He really likes her, too."
"I'm getting that," she said quietly. "Look… at least now we don't have a close-up photo of you two all over the news." She got up slowly, picking up her bag. "I'm going home to work out how we finally take down Sapphire."
"Ok," Britt managed.
She turned and left the tiny room, leaving him to sit back in the chair and contemplate the afternoon.
.
.
Amy wandered out of the Media Processing room, her eyes glazed, her hand squeezing the iPhone so hard it was a wonder the screen didn't crack. People talked at her but she didn't hear anything - she walked sheerly by auto-pilot, making it down the stairs and over to her desk.
Someone waved, someone called to her - she didn't even notice. Her hands went to her bag and cardigan, lifting them both but letting them drag behind her on the carpet as her feet took her slowly, methodically, over to the lifts.
It was a long moment before she realised she hadn't pressed a button. She managed it, jumping slightly when it arrived. She got in and let it whisk her and two other employees downstairs to the main lobby.
A dazed and confused walk to the bus stop made her realise that she should have her hand out. She stuck it out and let her mind wander again.
"I had it - I know I did," she muttered for the fiftieth time. Her hand squeezed at the phone. "I had it. I saw it." She felt herself breathing deeper, a little faster - and then she felt anger flood up her face. "I know I had it!" she tutted. "I saw it - all the details, everything! The hat, the mask - the look on his stupid face!"
Something large blocked out the afternoon sun and she blinked, realising a bus had stopped for her hand. She made it drop hastily and boarded the bus, fussing with her bag and pass until she bundled herself into a seat. Then she turned the phone round, unlocked it, and checked for the hundredth time that not a single photo was left on it.
Huffing to herself, she decided to distract herself by looking out of the window. A good half an hour later she jumped to her feet, hurrying to the front of the bus as she rang the bell madly.
"Ok, lady! I got you the first six times!" the driver called.
"Sorry - missed my stop," she managed. "Sorry!"
He muttered something but pulled the bus up at the kerb. She waved another apology and hurried out of the way, letting the bus doors close behind her. It pulled away in a little cloud of indignation and she stuffed her cardigan in her bag, beginning the lonely walk back toward her house.
As she paced, angry thoughts of frustration, of everything being unfair, swirled around inside her head, until by the time she had found her front door she was stabbing the key into it with a grunt of revenge. She pushed the door open and kicked off her high heels, not caring when they landed a good six feet inside the hallway. She stalked in, jamming her feet into the waiting Converse before she slammed the front door.
"I had it!" she fumed. "I freakin' had it and I know I did!" She plonked her bag down and stared at the phone in her hand. "You goddamn betraying piece of shit!" she cursed. "Thanks for turning on me! I thought we were friends! Next time I back everything up as soon as I get in!"
She stomped through to the front room as she unbuttoned her waistcoat. She peeled it off and threw it at the couch by the wall.
"Well well well," said a voice from behind her. She squeaked in fright and jumped a full three inches in her skin. Then she turned. A woman was sitting in the armchair across from her, her legs crossed and a wide smile on her face. "If it isn't Amy De Souza, Daily Sentinel."
Amy backed up one, noticing a man standing behind her chair. "What the hell?" she managed. "How did you get in my house?"
"Charlie," the woman shrugged. She uncrossed her legs to sit forwards and lean her elbows on her knees. "Look… we need to ask you some questions, Amy De Souza of the Daily Sentinel. And please, do answer them all. Charlie isn't fond of messing up young ladies' faces but he will if he has to. Hell, I do it for free, so don't test me," she said cheerfully. "Sit down."
"Get out of my house!" she shouted, her face filling up with rage in the space of a second. "Get out! After the day I've had you can both just fuc—"
Charlie stepped round the chair. He crossed the room before she could blink. He grabbed her upper arms and shook her once. "Now now," he warned. "Let's not get angry just yet."
"Let me go!" she cried. She pushed at him. Her foot went down onto his. He didn't move. Then her knee flew back up and straight into him.
He coughed, bending over, letting go reflexively. She put both hands together and swung them round into his head. He went over sideways as she staggered back. She ran for the door.
A hand grabbed her hair. She was swung around. And then something slammed into her face.
She sank to the carpet, unconscious.
Sapphire shook her hand out, hissing in pain to herself. "It's always the ones you don't expect," she said. She looked round at Charlie. "You good?"
"Yeah," he coughed, his hands on his knees. "Just - just got my bell rung."
"Well walk it off soldier," she said, patting at his back in commiseration. "Let's get her in the car."
.
.
Kato opened his eyes, rubbing at his face. His fingers brushed at the pad in his temple and he hissed as the tape pulled at his skin. He sat up slowly, then slid his feet over the side of the bed. Yawning, he got up and pulled his basketball shorts straight. He stumbled round to the bathroom, lifting all his hair back as he got to the mirror to watch his reflection peel the tape off his head. The strips underneath were still clean and bright white; he prodded at them carefully, found them to be stuck tight, and then leant back from the mirror. Tossing the pad in the bin in the corner, he yawned and then went back to sit on the bed. He scrubbed his hand through his hair and surveyed the apartment.
He located his phone and tried to unlock it - and then found it out of power. Rolling his eyes, he got up and found his charger, plugging it in and then sitting on the nearby sofa. He watched it boot up, then scrolled through the notifications he had received, dismissing or answering them quickly.
He went to the list of messages and opened up the one second from the top. His thumb hovered over Amy's name, and then he sighed and tossed to the phone to the couch. He sat forward, put his elbows on his knees, and let his head fall into his hands.
His phone buzzed.
He groaned and picked it up.
'Britt
1 message'
He stared for a long moment. Then he opened it.
'Hey dude its already 7am and you're not in the garage yet'
He leant back and melted into the sofa, a hand going to the pads over the stitches in his right side. The phone buzzed again and he looked at it.
'Lenore has something for us. Come in and I'll make breakfast'
He blinked, surprised. Then he lifted the phone and tapped a reply with his thumb. 'On my way. Don't burn the food'. He pressed Send and dropped the phone, forcing himself to get off the couch and go into the bathroom.
In ten minutes he was out again, a towel wrapped round his waist and clingfilm over the white pads in his side. He checked his phone, his hair trying to drip on his hands. He scraped it all back and then opened a new message.
'Morning. Ok for bowling tonight?' He bit his lip, then erased the message. He looked up, thinking. Then he typed again. 'Morning. Plans for the day?' He shook his head irritably, erasing that one, too. "Just say 'how bad was your day because some asshole deleted all your photos for his own selfish reasons?'" he said bitterly in Chinese. He waved his hands out in helplessness, then dropped the phone to the couch and went back into the bathroom.
.
.
Lenore sat back in the metal chair, tapping at the keyboard of her laptop on the table. She sipped her coffee and looked out around the grounds, having to admit that the Reid residence was a very pretty, very peaceful place first thing in the morning.
Britt came through carrying a plate in his hands, thoughtfully protected by oven gloves. "Ok - ready?" he grinned.
She looked up and moved everything to one side. He set the plate down and she gazed at the scrambled eggs and bacon. "Wow," she blinked. "You made this?"
"Hey I can learn new stuff," he said defensively.
She grinned. "This looks great."
"Thanks," he said, then turning to go back inside. "Any word from Kato?"
"Not to me," she shrugged, picking up her fork and poking it into the diced bacon. "He's probably on his way."
"Well I don't think he's doing the gym while he's got holes in him so I hope was sleeping!" Britt called from beyond the door. He re-appeared, carrying his own plate. He put it down in front of his chair and then sat, grinning to himself. "Awesome." He snagged a fork and stabbed a sausage, lifting it and biting the end off. "Man food tastes better when you made it yourself."
Lenore smiled. "You're just getting that?"
"Gimme a break - I'm trying."
"You are - and you're doing really well," she allowed. Her phone buzzed next to her. "Wow. Nearly eight a.m. and the office is already busy."
"Don't answer it," he said imperiously. "You're working for me at the moment and we're in a meeting."
"We're eating breakfast," she giggled.
"So it's a working breakfast. What do we do about this Sapphire?"
"Well how about we let the DA go," she said. "Right now Sapphire is fixating on you, and if the DA re-appears and she's not dead after all, she'll be protected and fussed over so much that not even Sapphire will be able to take her out. That gets her out of your wine cellar and back on the game board."
"True," he said. "What do we do, dump her somewhere for the cops to find?"
"How about," she said with a sly smile, "we make it easy for her to escape? Like pretend the Green Hornet is moving her somewhere, but give her ample chance to get away? Then she'll be the brave DA who escaped the clutches of the evil Green Hornet."
"The clutches of the evil Green Hornet!" he gushed. "I love it! You're a genius!"
Her phone buzzed again. She turned it face down and looked back at her breakfast. "We just need to make sure she's ready for an escape attempt. And it has to be somewhere close to a police station so she can go straight there. I mean she's smart, she'll go straight to official help. And of course she'll want to report that it was the Green Hornet. They'll try to question her about where she was being held."
"Well they're not going to get anything from her," he scoffed, munching on the sausage. "I mean she can't see, she can't hear anything - and if we keep that blindfold on her until the last minute then all she'll know is that she's in the Black Beauty and we're on a street."
"Good," she nodded. Again her phone buzzed - and this time kept doing it. "Ok that's a call - welcome to Wednesday." She put down her fork and slapped the phone to her ear. "Morning." She paused, then her face clouded. "What? Uh - no, not me. Have you tried…? Oh, ok. No, I don't know." She listened. "I don't think she'd do that, I mean…" She paused as someone talked at length. "Yeah but… She's not five, Doug. Just wait half an hour, ok? Don't panic - maybe she just overslept. Alright - yes. All this will be over nothing, you'll see." She listened, nodding. "Ok. Bye." She cut the call and sat back in her chair.
"What?" he asked, vacuuming up the last of the sausage and spearing the next one.
She frowned at her phone for a long moment. "That was Doug from the office. He says Amy isn't in yet - he's worried about her. Apparently she didn't seem herself yesterday afternoon after a meeting with Mike. Then she just ignored everyone and walked out - and she's not in the seven-thirty meeting about her footage."
Britt frowned for a long moment. Then a gradual, sly grin began to cover his face as he shook his head, sitting back in his chair. "Don't sweat it," he said, waving a hand at her.
"What? Something could be seriously wrong," she said sternly.
"You a genius and you haven't figured it out," he grinned.
"What?"
"Well… Kato is always here by half seven, working on something. He's not here. Amy should have been in a morning meeting. She's not there. You know what's going on, right? Those crazy kids are just sleeping in. Well, not sleeping-sleeping, if you get my meaning."
Lenore studied him, then her eyes went back to her phone. She 'hmm'ed.
"Come on - what else could it be?" Britt asked. "I'm telling you, he's going to roll in here with a smug grin the size of his helmet, totally relaxed and pleased with himself."
"But she's always professional," she said, undecided. "She wouldn't miss a morning meeting just for an extra hour in bed."
"Depends how good he is," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "I mean he's a martial artist, right? I bet he's really bendy with like Olympic gold-medal stamina."
She leant over and slapped his arm. "Stop it. You're being disgusting."
"Oh like you've never wondered?" he teased. "I know you were looking, back in the day. —And when he got shot you were ready to tear his shirt off in like seconds. You saw how ripped he was. I mean I'm not blaming you - it was an impressive sight."
"We're friends and Peony needed to work on him," she said stiffly. "Just for the record, I have not, do not, and never will date either of you."
"So you have wondered, you just never asked?" he grinned.
She slapped his shirt again. "Stop. I have a fork in my other hand."
"Good point, well made," he said quickly, leaning back into his chair.
She stared at her breakfast, willing the feeling of disquiet to go away. She shovelled up some egg, having to admit it was rather good. She had almost succeeded in pushing dark thoughts from her mind, and clearing most of her plate, when Britt looked up to something behind her across the grass.
"Here he is," he said brightly.
She turned to see Kato crossing the lawn, his helmet in his gloved hand, dark sunglasses fringed by careless hair. He waved and came up to the table, pulling his gloves off to sit down opposite Britt.
"Morning," Lenore said.
"Morning," Britt gushed, waggling his eyebrows. "Had a good one?"
"It's… ok," he replied suspiciously. "Where's my breakfast?"
Britt got up obediently, disappearing back into the house.
Lenore cleared her throat. "So… no gym this morning?"
"No - hurts," he said, lying his gloves on the table. He eased off his sunglasses carefully, leaving them next to them.
"Doug called from the office," she said, casually shuffling bacon onto her fork. "He says Amy hasn't come in this morning yet."
"I thought her part of the office goes in at nine."
"There was some kind of meeting this morning," she shrugged. "About her footage. Doug says she was really upset yesterday afternoon - she just blanked everyone and went home."
Kato's jaw swivelled from side to side as he considered his answer. "Because I erased all her photos. Including the one she was going to give to Mike Axford."
"You had to," she said gently. "You know you did."
"It was still wrong."
She sighed. "I know, but… there was nothing else you could do."
"See?" he said, sitting forward to pin her with an angry look. "You try to say nice things, helpful things - to me all the time. So does she, and I just deleted her hard work, maybe ruining her job, and I can't even tell her it was me and say sorry."
She watched him sit back and fold his arms with a huff. "I get it, Kato. And I'm sorry that this situation sucks."
He glared at the table surface. "And I don't know what to say to her. I tried all morning to send a text and I can't even do that."
"Send her a text?" she asked.
Britt emerged from the house with a plate, placing it in front of Kato with a flourish. "Ta da!" he grinned. Kato looked at it - just looked. "Oh come on, dude - I spent ages making that. Try some," he said.
Kato picked up a fork but Lenore sipped her coffee to wash down the last of her food. "Wait," she said. "You said you couldn't text her?"
"I couldn't think of a good thing to say," Kato said helplessly. "I want to say are you ok but I can't know she lost her photos, can I? So how do I ask if she's ok when I am not supposed to know she's not?"
"Wait - text her?" Britt asked. He sat down. "You mean she wasn't with you last night? Or this morning?"
"That's not any of your business," Kato warned.
"N-no but…" Britt managed, then looked at Lenore. "So… if she wasn't with Kato and she's not at the meeting - then where is she?"
Lenore picked up her phone. She was tapping at buttons as Kato looked from one to the other. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
Britt put his hands out toward him for calm. "She's just late to work, that's all."
"How do you even know that?" he asked, lost.
"The office called Lenore looking for her. She skipped a meeting this morning."
Kato sat back, a horrible image of Amy curled up in a ball unable to psych herself up enough to get out of bed, stealing into his head. He got up smartly. "I will go check on her."
"Wait," Britt said, gesturing to Lenore.
"Yeah, me again," she was saying down the phone. "Any sign of her? And you've tried her phone, right? Ok - keep it quiet, Doug. Don't tell anyone, and if anyone asks she's just late, ok? Yes please. Thank you, Doug." She cut the call and looked up at Kato. "You go to her place - check everything. We might have to call the police."
"Police?" Kato blurted, his eyes wide. "What the hell?"
"Remember the footage?" Lenore said. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before!"
"What about the footage?" Britt demanded. "What did we miss?"
"She told Sapphire her name and where she worked!" Lenore hissed. "What's to stop Sapphire from finding her?"
Kato whisked up his helmet and gloves, shoving on his sunglasses and turning for the grass.
"Don't get hurt again!" Britt called.
Kato broke into a run, all the way back to his bike parked at the front of the house.
.
.
Stuffy, waxy fibres - some kind of musty smell - a squeak and a metallic bang. Amy felt all these things as she opened her eyes. Everything was scratchy, too close to her eyelashes, brushing her cheeks. She shook her head and realised something was over it, made of some kind of harsh, stiff fibres in a light coloured material.
She pulled on her wrists and found them stuck behind her. Wobbling herself from side to side, she heard metal feet under her scratch across the floor slightly. She bent over as far as she could, shaking her head not unlike a dog with a toy in its mouth. The covering on her head shuffled and shifted - but did not come off. She huffed and tried harder, feeling it grab at her hair as it moved gradually up toward the top of her head.
"Please don't," said a voice.
She ignored it, shaking her head harder to force the rough covering forward. Just as she felt it shift a whole two inches, something grabbed it from behind and yanked.
Her head was snapped back and she gasped in air. The covering was forced into her skin as she was bent back into the backrest of the chair hard. She coughed. "Ok!" she cried. "I'll stop!"
Whatever it was let go. She bent forward slightly, coughing in air and getting her breath back. "Good girl," said the voice. "You know, you're more trouble than I thought you would be. But then it's always the quiet ones."
She bit her lip, sniffing a runny nose, and making herself sit back in the chair.
"Did you enjoy your night in the most uncomfortable position possible? We brought you here so we could control you better," the voice went on.
"You can't control me," she snapped.
There was a laugh. "Oh, I think I can. Take for example your epic footage of me and my associate just last night. You got it out into the world, so thanks to you I'm no longer able to work in the same way. And now because you did such a good job of that, you're going to do some more video taping - for me."
"I will not."
"You haven't heard my offer."
"I don't need to. There's nothing you could say that would make me do what you want."
The voice laughed. "Everyone says that - don't they, Charlie?"
"They do, boss," said a new voice.
"And then," said the voice, coming very close to her right ear, "I tell them a few facts and figures, and they suddenly agree to just about anything."
"Go screw yourself," Amy snapped.
The voice chuckled. "Hope Hospital. Room 379, east wing. Friday morning, eleven a.m."
"Wh-what?" she blurted.
"That is the next hospital appointment for your brother, right?" There was a pause. "I'm pretty sure it would be no trouble at all to take him out as he arrived, or even after. Considering his latest hospital report I might even be doing him a favour. Dying of cancer is the worst."
"Wh-what?" she whimpered. "How do you know that - know me?"
"Oh dear," the voice commiserated. "You introduced yourself to us, remember? Even showed us your work security badge. It was adorable." A sigh. "And, well, it may be immodest of me to say but I do have many moles in many holes. I'm pretty sure I could find just about anything I wanted."
"Then you don't need me."
A chuckle. "She's a smart one," the voice said quietly. "I do, actually. You, Amy De Souza, are in a perfect position to get me what I want. And if you don't, bad things will happen. Specifically, to your brother."
Amy felt her heart speeding up. "You wouldn't."
"Can you take that chance? You don't even know me."
"You - you can't. I mean they have police in hospitals."
"It wouldn't be the first time I've solved a problem in a public facility. And hospitals are such large, confusing places. So easy to slip in and out."
"You can't," she managed. Her eyes betrayed her, filling with water.
"Don't make me," was the casual reply. "Just do as I ask and I'll never need to."
"I - I can't," she gasped.
"It's your choice. I mean, your brother and that lovely upstanding boyfriend of yours. He seems ever so nice - holds doors open for you, makes you coffee, brings you pizza," the voice said.
"How do you - how do you know all this?" she whispered.
"We know people. People who know other people." The voice paused. "So that's two good reasons to work for me. How can you refuse?"
"I - I can't," she whispered. "It's not right."
"Oh, sweetie," the voice oozed. "You're brave, and I know you're fighting me the only way you can, but… you've lost here. There's no way out of this. And all I need you to do is go through the Sentinel's files on the Green Hornet. I mean I have most of them but you have that new footage. I want the cleaned up, perfect version your paper no doubt has but never used in the media. And then I want you to get new footage - that shows his face, clear and unambiguous. You did such a good job last night, this should be easy for you. You have two days to get me the actual proper ID for him and his annoying little sidekick. Once I have that then I'll have no more need for you - and this whole thing never happened. Well, until the next time I need something."
Amy clenched her teeth, determined not to let the tears spill. "I can't."
"And you're still clinging to that," the voice marvelled. "Get footage that shows who they are, and you give me a copy, ok? You keep the original and do with it whatever you want. Just give me six hours' head start. After that you can publish it, put it on the news, anything you want. How's that for a fair deal?"
"But - but - I can't," she gasped. "It's not right! I don't work for - for - for drug dealers or gun runners or - or - gangs - or whatever you are!"
"She's stubborn, I'll give her that," said the male voice.
"Ok this is getting tiresome," the other voice said. "Make the call, Charlie. Tell them Friday at the hospital - Benedito De Souza. Make it messy. And when you're done arranging that, go right out and find that boyfriend - cut him into small pieces. Feed him to the turtles in the park. When you get back here you can help me load Amy's corpse into the river."
"Yes boss."
"Wait!" Amy cried. "Stop! Stop - please!"
"Now we get to it," the voice said. "Well?"
"Don't hurt anyone!" she managed. "Don't!"
"Will you get me the files? The footage?"
"Yes! I'll get it!" she hurled, anger making her voice thick. "I'll get you the footage! Just don't hurt anyone!"
There was a long silence. "Well," the voice said quietly. "If you're going to be true to your word, then there's no need, is there? Just remember, we're watching you and the boyfriend. You tell anyone about any of this - or try to weasel your way out - and he's the first casualty, your brother being the second. Do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes I understand! I'm scared shitless, not stupid!" she shouted.
"That's all we need to know. You text me the minute you get what I want and we'll set up a meet. Number's on the piece of paper in your pocket. Charlie?"
"Yes boss?"
"Take her home. Make sure she doesn't experience the ride."
"Yes boss."
Amy tried to twist, tried to turn her wrists.
Something smacked into the back of her head.
She wilted, as every part of her just let everything go.
