Chapter Seventy Five
...
"Good morning, Mr. Kemp. I apologise for the early call, but I wanted to catch you before you left for work."
"It's six in the morning," he said, voice rough with sleep and annoyance.
Weren't telemarketers meant to start later in the day?
"Yes, and your boss is going to call five minutes after this call ends. Now, Mr. Kemp, my name's Hourglass."
The name woke him far faster than the ringing phone had. Everyone knew who Hourglass was.
"How do I know it's you?"
"Your son's medication is not agreeing with him. My pharmaceutical company has created an alternative, and if you and your son are willing, I would like him to test the product. It will allow for a smoother transition and won't affect his power."
A cold shiver ran through his body, despite the summer heat. No one knew about his son's power. The second thought on the heels of that was: I'm really talking to Hourglass.
"What do you want?" he asked, knowing that something like this wasn't going to come without a price.
"I'd like to offer you a job. The medication is separate to the job offer, of course. This is not blackmail, Mr. Kemp," Hourglass said firmly. "I'll email you the details of both the job and medication; , correct? I'd like an answer on both by the end of the week, as both decisions will require further actions either way."
"Where is the job, Hourglass?"
"Outskirts of Westville, close to Maxville. I can send you some rental properties in a good area, if you'd like?"
"The job's temporary then?"
"No, full-time and permanent, but rentals allow you more flexibility for the future."
Frowning at her wording, but supposing she would know about his future better than most, Connor didn't respond.
"Have a lovely day, Mr. Kemp. I hope to hear from you soon," Hourglass said pleasantly, ending the call.
Remembering her earlier words about his boss calling, Connor stayed awake and resisted the urge to check his emails straight away. He flicked to a meditation app and set it for five minutes, focusing on the person's voice as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Exactly five minutes after Hourglass' call, his phone rang again.
"Good morning, sir."
"Nothing good about it, Kemp. We've practically lost the Japan deal overnight."
All thoughts of Hourglass' offer flew from his mind. "I've been working on that deal for three months. What happened?" he asked, heading for his ensuite bathroom, scratching his bare hip.
"Watson happened. He went on a racist and anti-super rant; he's offended everyone both on the Japan side and over here."
"How publicly?"
"Twitter; where else? We need damage control sooner rather than later, Kemp, or the last three months are down the drain."
"I'll be there in ten," Connor replied, ending the call. Not bothering with the hot water, he stepped under the cold spray for the fastest shower of his life.
...
Greta squinted at her computer screen, muttering as she tried to navigate the website. "User friendly, my ass," she said with a fierce scowl. "Ah, there you are, you little asshole."
Clicking the login button, Greta groaned when a box appeared asking for her email address and password. "Why can't you just remember it? Damn computer's meant to be smart," she groused, opening her desk drawer and flicking through a notebook to find out which password she'd used for the site.
After typing everything in carefully and double-checking it was correct, Greta finally accessed her FitBit account.
Scrolling through several days of data, she muttered about the supposed user-friendliness of the lying website (not to mention the liars at the store who'd sold her the damn thing, promising that even she would be able to use the website).
She'd finally finished the rehabilitation and physiotherapy sessions, that sadistic asshole of a doctor making her waste money on things she didn't need to satisfy her health insurance requirements. The physiotherapy didn't even work anyway, her leg was still killing her. Greta hadn't been doing the exercises of course, that's what the physiotherapy was for.
The FitBit that had been sold to her had claimed to have a GPS on it to track her movements and paths she'd taken over the day. She kept it in her handbag, not liking the rubbery feel of the wristband and not willing to pay more for something fancier.
So long as it worked, Greta didn't care if the FitBit had a direct line to the President himself, she just wanted to know where she'd been. The vines in her body had the ability to make her feel things, so Greta wouldn't put it past them to make her do things too.
"Date, date, where... ah, there," she murmured to herself, typing to enter the date of her kitchen fire.
Dr. Sadistic Asshole might assume she was an elderly invalid who didn't know how to fucking cook, but Greta knew herself better than that.
Seeing the path her FitBit showed for that day - and not just to the hospital - Greta's eyes widened. She'd gone to the prison, as she knew she'd planned, and then had driven out to the edge of Maxville for God knew what reason.
Figuring she could start at the prison, Greta left her computer room to get dressed, leaving the computer on so she could print off the map later. Not that she'd throw it in Dr. Sadistic's face, but the option would always be there if she had it handy.
...
"Guys, we've got a problem," Adam said.
"Can it wait until after the championships?" Ethan hissed, not taking his eyes off his mother who was still waiting for her opponent to arrive.
"Greta has a FitBit and knows she was taken to the Hive after going to the prison on the day of the fire. Still think I should I wait?" Adam asked tersely.
"Shit. Can you delete the data?" Warren asked.
"Yeah, but she's already seen it."
"Donny, what can you do from this distance?" Layla asked.
"Not a lot. She's a whole other town away. It wouldn't be luck if I could get her thoughts while in this crowd, it'd be a damn miracle," Donny stressed.
Honey reached over and grabbed Donny's wrist, his eyes rolling back as he latched on to her vision.
He was breathing heavily when she let go a second later, but Donny nodded firmly. "All right. I can do it. Layla, you need to call her home phone. Turn off caller ID first, or she won't pick up. I need a full minute, can you keep her on that long?"
"I'll try," Layla said, scrolling through her phone to turn off caller ID.
"How are you going with the data, Adam?" Warren asked.
"Almost done. Wiping the whole thing instead of a day. It's way too suss otherwise," Adam muttered, thumbs flying over his screen as he accessed Greta's account.
"Good idea."
"Anita's opponent's here; everyone look up," Zach said.
Looking to Anita, they all waved and cheered enthusiastically for her, their noise dying down when someone hissed at them to be quiet and stop interrupting the players' concentration.
"They haven't even started yet, you idiot," Craig replied, pulling a face at them.
The usher guided Anita's opponent over. As the man was the last to be seated - with only a minute to spare or else she would have won automatically by forfeit - it was obvious whose opponent he was. Anita smiled at her first opponent, trying not to show her nerves.
Player Thirty barked a short laugh when he saw her at the table. "What's this? Where's my real opponent?"
"Player Five is your opponent, sir. Do you wish to forfeit?" the usher asked, sounding to be at the end of their patience.
Thirty took his seat - thirty seconds to spare - and sneered. "Nah, this'll be an easy start."
"You are aware of the rules, sir?" the usher asked, stern now.
"'Course, I've been playing chess for years."
"The competition's rules. It includes rules about treating all players with respect and courtesy."
"I'm all right," Anita said, nodding for the usher to leave; the game was about to start.
Thirty snorted as the usher left. "Look at that, I'm white, you're black."
"Yes, those are the two colours used in chess," she said, her jaw clenched tight, even with the forced smile on her face.
Anita had planned on introducing herself, but she decided that this asshole wasn't worth her manners or time.
Before Thirty could reply or say anything else, the buzzer sounded for the games to start, the noise in the hall immediately dying. Moving the F pawn to F3, Thirty hit his clock. Anita moved her E pawn to E5 and tapped her clock. Thirty moved the G pawn to G4, hitting the clock and sitting back in his seat, grinning like he'd already won.
Anita had to look at the board three times before she believed her eyes. Thirty had just done the dumbest play. It was so dumb that it was actually called 'Fool's mate' and anyone who played chess knew how devastating being called a fool was. The pattern of moves resulted in the opposing player winning in two moves.
"Do you need some help?" Thirty asked with a sneer.
Anita smiled, bright and genuine this time, then moved her queen to H4 and tapped the clock. "Checkmate."
"What? You... you cheated! You - " Thirty's abuse cut off abruptly, his body twitching like he'd been zapped with electricity.
Anita looked over to the stands where Heidi was sitting with Richard and the others.
"Is there a problem here?" the usher asked, at her side suddenly.
"I have checkmate," Anita said, glancing away from her daughter.
"You fucking bitch!" Thirty yelled, no longer under Heidi's control.
"Congratulations on your win, player Five. Player Thirty, you can leave the premises willingly or be thrown out by security," the usher said.
Thirty paled when he saw the security guard step forward, the large man towering and menacing.
Frieda watched as Thirty smacked the chess pieces off the board and ran out of the hall, her eyes narrowing before she turned to look back at Adam. "I know you're busy, dear, but I'd like that man's address when you have a moment."
"I have all of the contestants' addresses already; I'll send the list to you," Adam said. "And I'm done," he added to Warren and Layla.
Layla was waiting for Greta to pick up the phone and nodded in response, smiling her thanks. Then her expression changed to one of distraught. "Greta?"
"What do you want?"
"I just... I'm really sorry, Greta. I wanted to apologise for the things I did and the way I acted when I lived with you. I was emotional after losing my mother and I lashed out at the wrong person. I'm really sorry. I don't want to lose the last living family member I have," Layla added, her voice breaking.
Beside her, Warren had to let his fire take his emotion so he wouldn't burst out laughing at her expression and tone. Zach was shaking with laughter and Craig had his head buried against Jewel's shoulder. Honey clamped a hand over Grant's mouth to stop his laughter from making Greta hang up too early. Adam muffled his laugh in the crook of his arm.
The only reason Donny wasn't laughing was due to his concentration being on Greta's thoughts, accessing them through the phone and using waves or something; he didn't really understand what Honey had shown him, Donny only knew that he could do it and it would work.
"Can you ever forgive me, Greta?" Layla asked.
"Forgive you? You ruined my life, you little bitch! You put these, these things under my skin, and you destroyed my house! I know it was you, girl. You and that fire boyfriend of yours, I know it was you and I have proof," Greta snapped.
"But I haven't seen you since court, Greta," Layla protested.
"Then how do you explain... the... something. I know... I know it," Greta said, even as the memories erased from her mind. "What are you... what... stop this!"
"I'm not doing anything, Greta," Layla said truthfully. "Tell me, do the vines still hurt?"
"Every damn day. I'm going... I'm going to get revenge. I will. If it's... last thing..."
Layla looked from Donny to Honey, waiting for them both to nod before she ended the call. "Did you get it all, Donny?"
"Yeah, I got it. Though asking me after you'd hung up? Stupid move," Donny muttered, leaning against Wendy.
Layla conceded with a nod. "I suppose it was. Thank you, Donny," she said, kissing his cheek. "Do you want something to eat or drink? My shout."
"Yeah, that'd be good."
...
Greta frowned, wondering why she was holding her phone. She set it back down and returned her attention to her computer, going through the painful process of accessing her FitBit account online. The graphs were empty, the maps hadn't changed, and there was nothing there.
"Useless bloody technology!" she snapped.
Standing, Greta went to get dressed and return the stupid thing. Just wait until she gave those swindlers a piece of her mind. They'd crossed the wrong woman.
...
"How are you feeling, Mum?" Ethan asked, offering her a bottle of water.
Anita took the bottle and drank deeply before answering. "Mentally exhausted. Twelve was tough to beat. How are you guys all going? You're not bored?"
She was met with head shakes and 'no's.
"Ethan's explaining the game and patterns as you're playing," Zach said.
"Heidi's started playing a chess app with Richard on her phone. She's gone to the bathroom with Frieda," Layla added.
"Can I marry your brain, Anita?" Wendy asked, grinning.
"What?"
"You combined three different strategies in that last game. I didn't even see it coming."
"Well, the first two didn't work. The third did," Anita replied with a shrug.
"I can't believe you're going up against Mr. Medulla. I so thought Thirteen was going to bump him out of the competition," Zach said.
"He used the bishop and knight mate; it took thirty-three moves to get to that point though," Wendy said.
"Do we need to go over any strategies?" Ethan asked, book and folder at the ready.
"Hey, Robin. You made it," Craig said, grinning at them.
They nodded. "Only just; traffic was ridiculous and I missed the first hour of the competition. Terry's here too; I think he's buying his weight in nachos," Robin said, grinning and looking over to the food section.
"There's nachos?" Zach asked, standing to look. "Eth, can you buy me nachos? I'll love you forever."
"You've got your own money from chores," Ethan replied.
"So not the point, Eth. Anyone want food? Heids?" Zach asked, signing to her.
Heidi nodded enthusiastically, signing back.
"A hot dog? I'll see what they've got."
"I'll help you carry the food. I can smell the irresistible, luring scent of deep-fried potato in one of its many forms," Craig said, his hand against his chest as he fluttered his eyelashes.
"Dork. Get me fries," Adam said, handing a five dollar note to him.
"That's Sir Dork to you," Craig said with a snicker, taking the cash.
"You're a true knight, kind sir. Can you get fries for us, too?" Jewel asked, handing her and Grant's cash to him with a wink.
"For you, lady, anything," Craig said with a sweeping and flourishing bow.
"I wish," Jewel muttered.
Grant laughed and tugged Jewel back onto the bench beside him, his arm around her waist. "Down, girl."
Victor shook his head and turned his attention back to Elijah and Elliot, taking out their apple mush to feed them too.
Zach and Craig left, discussing which kind of deep-fried potato was best.
"I'm not here with Mr. Medulla, Ethan, you can let go of the book," Robin said with a grin.
"That's what someone would say if they were here with Mr. Medulla," he replied, his grip tightening.
Robin laughed. "All right, believe whatever you want. What happened in the first hour? Any interesting games?" they asked curiously.
"Anita's first opponent lost with Fool's mate," Wendy said, laughing.
"What? I thought that play was a myth? Everyone knows not to do that."
"He was cocky about playing against a black woman," Anita said.
Robin blinked as they translated Anita's words. "Oh. That asshole. Where is he?"
"He was chased out by security," Layla said.
"That's not good enough," Robin muttered.
The ground shook slightly, not enough to knock over the chess pieces but a few people looked to the doors, reminded of the Westville earthquake. Robin sighed and calmed down slowly, the building returning to a standstill.
"Player Five and player Two, please return to the floor," an announcer said, the lone chess table set up and the other tables removed.
"All right, wish me luck," Anita said, smiling and trying not to shake with nerves.
Heidi hugged her tightly, stepping back to sign good luck.
"Good luck, Ma. You can do it," Ethan said, smiling.
"Good luck, Anita," Warren said, squeezing her shoulder gently and a rush of warmth flowing through her body, steadying her nerves.
"Thank you," she said, waving quickly before heading out to the lone table.
Mr. Medulla was walking to the table, waving to his girlfriends. He waited for Anita to arrive before indicating to the table. "Ladies first."
Realising that he was offering her the option of white or black chess pieces, Anita considered it for a moment. As white started the game, statistically, it was more likely to win. But she'd played as black for more than half of her games and knew that statistics could be skewed. Sitting down, she nodded to Mr. Medulla to take his place at the side with the white pieces.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Medulla," Anita said, smiling at him briefly.
"Hello, Mrs. Damsale. I must say, I'm not at all surprised to see you here," Mr. Medulla replied, glancing over to where Ethan was sitting with Anita's friends and family.
"I'm not surprised to see you here either," she said.
"Players, ready?" the usher asked.
"Yes, thank you," Anita said, Mr. Medulla nodding briefly.
They were given the go-ahead to start, Mr. Medulla contemplating his first move for a few seconds before moving a pawn and pressing the timer.
"Thanks for the fries," Jewel whispered to Craig, kissing his cheek as he returned with Zach and set between her and Grant.
"Why are we whispering?" Craig asked in a whisper.
"Shh, they're playing."
"It's Anita's first move. Breathe, Ethan," Richard said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "She'll be fine."
Moving her knight, Anita pressed the timer. Mr. Medulla moved another pawn, pressing the timer. Anita moved her knight back to its main position, pressing the timer.
"Trying to discover my strategy, Mrs. Damsale?" Medulla asked. "Your son did the same thing last year; I've learnt my lesson," he said, moving his knight before pressing the timer.
Anita didn't bother answering, looking at the board before moving a pawn forward two spaces and pressing the timer.
"A silent player then, not a problem," Mr. Medulla said, zipping his lip and considering the board before moving his knight and pressing the timer.
Several more plays continued in silence, Anita trying to determine her own game while working out what Medulla was doing.
Anita sacrificed a pawn to save her knight, then captured Medulla's bishop with her own bishop.
"Ah, there goes the double bishop," Mr. Medulla murmured, before moving the king towards the rook and playing a castle move to switch the two pieces, pressing the timer.
Anita surveyed the board, determining what strategy might work. Moving a pawn two spots, she pressed the timer.
"Interesting," Mr. Medulla said, reaching for a piece. His fingers hovered for a moment before withdrawing.
After another two hover and withdraws, Anita's gaze flicked to the clocks beside them. Medulla was running out of time to play his turn.
"Ah, there."
Anita looked back to see Medulla move his knight and freeing his second bishop to attack. Moving a pawn forward, Anita winced when she saw the mistake she'd made. Anita hid her amusement when Medulla fell for her trap, moving his knight to capture her pawn. He didn't notice that he'd left an almost direct line from her bishop to his king. Moving her rook forward, Anita left it in front of the two pawns defending the king.
Medulla frowned at the obvious trap, looking at the board closely to see what Anita was planning. Her plan didn't work, as Medulla saw the bishop and moved his rook rather than the pawn. It left the pawn free for Anita to take, but her rook would be taken by the king a move later. Moving her knight instead, she hoped Medulla might move his pieces to protect himself and block himself in a Réti's mate. Moving one of his other pawns forward to stop from blocking himself in, Medulla pressed the timer and waited for Anita's turn.
Shit, Anita thought, swearing she heard Donny snickering from the stands.
She and Medulla continued for a few more turns, sacrificing pawns and a rook.
"You still have both bishops; the double bishop or Boden's mate?" Medulla mused curiously.
Anita had played poker with Honey and kept both her mind and face neutral.
Medulla finally sacrificed his pawn to take Anita's rook diagonally from it, leaving his king open. He knew she would move the bishop to take the pawn, which would leave him in check, but he could take that in response.
Anita moved her bishop to take the pawn, and breathed a sigh of relief as she pressed the timer. "Checkmate."
"What?" Medulla said, looking at the board, only to see Anita's black knight in the position to take the king from the bishop, and the other positions covered by the two bishops.
"Blackburne's mate."
Mr. Medulla frowned, trying to think of the strategy, but drawing a blank.
The usher stepped forward at Anita's checkmate, looking at the board and comparing their times. "Player Five wins!"
The stands erupted with cheers and clapping, Anita smiling at her family and friends as they cheered the loudest.
"Good game, Mrs. Damsale," Mr. Medulla said, holding out a hand to shake.
She shook his gloved hand firmly. "Thank you. Good game, Mr. Medulla."
...
Connor had finally appeased the Japanese businessmen and businesswomen. They had only deigned to accept his call once he'd publicly apologised for Watson's behaviour and stated that Watson was no longer working for the company.
Watson's anti-super and racist comments had resulted in public backlash on Twitter as well, so Connor had spent the next few hours drafting individual apologies and making sure they didn't sound like the usual fake 'sorry, not sorry' company statements. He took the time to reply to each one personally over the company's Twitter page, glad now more than ever for his ability to touch-type at a fast speed. It had gotten him through two years of his MBA, preferring to work on a stress-enforced deadline as he knew he worked well under pressure.
When that was done, Connor set the intern the task of monitoring the company's Twitter feed and asking the terrified intern to collate the responses for him to deal with personally. The intern's expression turned from barely-concealed terror to relief, and they nodded, turning their attention back to their computer screen.
Closing his office door and taking a moment to finally breathe, Connor looked at the time, wincing when he saw that it was almost two-thirty. He had yet to eat, but he'd survived on less before, and reminded himself of that as he went to sit down. The reminder brought up mostly unpleasant memories, of screams and explosions, of bullets and blood flying, and the stench of men who didn't have the luxury of bathing behind enemy lines. Connor forced himself to inhale through the memory, slowly unclenching his fists and opening his eyes once more.
"You're home, Kemp. You're home and you're safe. Now eat some food and call your son," he told himself firmly, concentrating on nothing but taking those last few steps to his chair.
He was in the middle of eating a muesli bar when he came across Hourglass' emails. After being so focused on the disaster that morning, Connor had practically forgotten about them. He left the medical one alone, knowing that he couldn't make a decision without discussing and reading it with Ry first.
Opening the job offer - still to be discussed with his son, but Connor could at least consider whether it was right for himself first - he almost choked on his mouthful when he saw the salary Hourglass had listed.
It had to be a mistake, Connor thought, scrolling down to check the job's duties.
Instead, he found a list of benefits, including medical, dental, and considerably hefty 401K employer contributions. Shit, he didn't even get dental now.
Connor kept scrolling - the salary was listed again with a note stating it wasn't incorrect, nor a typo; yes, that's really how much the position was worth - and finally found the duties.
It was fairly similar to his current role: business presentations, making deals with other companies both domestic and foreign, and ensuring that nothing went wrong with the deals or the company's employees. He would oversee the company's dealings and ensure that their products were of the highest quality, met industry standards, and aiming for best-practice at all times. Ensuring best-practice could result in conferences and overseas travel, which would result in appropriate compensation for being away from home.
Finishing his muesli bar and taking a long drink of water, Connor called his boss.
"Kemp," was his boss' usual greeting.
"Good afternoon, sir. I was hoping to have a few days off work next week. Thursday and Friday, if that's suitable?"
"What's it for, Kemp? Your usual camping trip isn't 'til the end of summer and you never take days off work," his boss replied, confused more than anything.
Connor prided himself on being truthful whenever possible. "I've had a job offer from Hourglass - "
His boss' sudden string of curses were a surprise and Connor stopped mid-sentence to let his boss finish ranting. "What's she offering that I'm not?!" his boss demanded finally.
"Dental, sir."
There was a moment of silence, and Connor could practically hear his boss' mind turning. "Your teeth are fine, Kemp."
"That's not the point, sir."
"Shit, I know that. If I have to lose you to anyone, then at least it's to Hourglass. I know she'll look after you and your kid."
"Well, you haven't lost me yet, sir. I'm only asking for two days off to check out the town, the company, that sort of thing. Besides, I'd have to discuss it with Ry first."
"After saving the deal this morning, you can have the whole week off. Just... don't leave me for dental alone, okay, Kemp?"
"It'll take more than dental, sir. Like you said: my teeth are fine," Connor said with a grin, his boss barking a laugh and hanging up on him.
There was a knock at the door, the intern looking in when Connor called them. "Uh, sir, your daughter's on the phone. Line two."
"Son," Connor corrected automatically, then picked up the line when the intern paled and left his office. "Hey, Ry. Sorry I left early this morning; there was a crisis at work. Did you see the note I left for you?"
"Yeah, Papa, I saw it. You missed our tai chi session," he chided. "But I saw the Twitter crisis myself, so I forgive you. I've got karate tonight; will you be home or should I catch a bus?"
"You know I don't like you alone on the bus, Ryuu," he said sternly.
"I'm seventeen, Papa. Besides, you know I can take care of myself," Ryuu replied, rolling his eyes.
Connor sighed. He knew Ry's words for the truth, but that didn't mean he couldn't worry about his child. "Well, I managed to solve the crisis, so I'll be home earlier than I expected. How about we go to karate together?"
"Really? Awesome. Thanks, Papa."
"No problem, son. Love you."
"Love you, too. Kick corporate butt," Ry said with a laugh as he hung up.
Connor smiled and returned his attention to Hourglass' job offer. He could discuss both the job and medical offers with Ry on the way to karate. It would give Ry the opportunity to read both emails in the car and bring up any issues or questions that Connor might not have thought of himself. The karate session would give both of them time to clear their minds and think about the offers seriously.
Either way, Connor now had a week off to spend time with Ry, and to him, nothing was more important than his son.
...
End of the seventy-fifth chapter.
Thanks for reading; I hope you liked these chapters!
