Here it is! The chapter before the concluding chapter that comes before the epilogue! Please let me know what you think! :D
Chapter Fifteen
General Metzeler stationed Lt. Commander Harris at the foot of the main staircase, then followed John and Howard up to Frank's bedroom.
"Frank!" John snapped as he strode through the open door, followed closely by Howard. "Frank, are you here? What the devil has gotten into you, old man! You've had us scouring half the bloody dome for you while the general—"
He poked his head into the bathroom and immediately trailed off.
"Good grief, what a mess," Howard said, peering past his brother's shoulder at the still steaming tub, the heaped and sopping towels, all the water puddled on the marble floor… "Did a cherry bomb go off in here?"
"Not hardly," the general said grimly and sank to one knee, tracing her fingers over a trail of sloppy water drips and sodden footprints soaking through the thick, blue carpet.
"What the hell…?" John frowned down at the oversized prints. "Was Frank in here dancing with Bigfoot?"
"Damn it…"
The general grunted, and hefted herself back to her feet.
"What's wrong?" John asked.
"Do you know what's happened to Frank?" Howard followed.
The general pursed her lips, regarding the two men for a long, penetrating moment before she said, "I'm afraid it's like this, boys. From the looks of these footprints here, I'd say Commander Frank Rimmer has been taken – snatched by one of those malcontent rebels from the Outer Rim."
"But…how?" Howard sputtered. "There's no way those miners could have breached the security of our dome—"
John placed a hand on Howard's shoulder.
"Howie," he said. "Those Nehbee intruders. We knew they had to be up to something."
"Then…what? You think they're here as some sort of advance party?" Howard asked, goggling at his brother like a gape-mouthed codfish. "Sent as spies to sabotage Mother's big day?"
"Quite right, Lieutenant. Got it first try," the general said, and straightened. "Activate your tightest security fields, boys. I want those intruders in custody and ready to talk before—"
"No need for all that trouble, mates," a voice interrupted. "We're happy to chat right here."
Lister stepped into the doorway, flanked by Kochanski and Kryten.
"You!" John exclaimed. "What have you Nehbs done with our brother, Frank?"
"Nehb indeed," Kochanski scorned and flipped back her perfect hair. "But, we're not the ones to ask about that. Why don't you try her?" She fixed her dark glare on General Metzeler.
"What is this? Who are you?" the general demanded angrily. "What kind of game are you people playing!"
"We're not the ones playing games here, General," Rimmer said, stepping out from Frank's spacious walk-in closet with one hand resting casually on his utility belt.
John and Howard shared a confused look, staring from Rimmer to each other, then back again.
"Fletch?" Howard squinted. "But... But how...?"
"That can't be Fletcher," John said. "We talked with him not twenty minutes ago!"
"Sure looks like ol' Fletch, though," Howard said, and frowned. "Or would, if he were about five years older."
"The name's Arnold," Rimmer informed them, tapping a finger against his nametag. "Ace, to you. But who I am is not important just now. Frank?"
He gestured to someone in the closet, holding out his arm in support as slowly, slowly, his hulking brother lumbered into view.
"What is this?" John said dangerously. "What are you lot trying to pull?"
"General?" Rimmer prompted. "Would you care to take this one? No, wait, better to let Frank tell you himself. The way General Metzeler has been seeding the ground with deflection and blame, I get the feeling she's more inclined to cover her precious Project's arse than tell the truth about what her Super Soldier serum has done to Frank – and to those miners in the Outer Rim!"
"I don't have to stand for this," Metzeler snarled, turning to John and Howard. "These people are clearly subversives, kidnappers, and terrorists. Captain! Lieutenant! Take them and their genetic monster down to the security office and—"
"Not so fast, Dog Breath! In case you hadn't noticed, we've got you surrounded!"
The Cat gracefully dropped down from the comfortable, hammock-like canopy draped over Frank's princely bed, grinning the grin of a highly evolved Cat aiming a fully charged laser blaster at his prey.
Lister and Kochanski pulled blasters too, while Kryten hefted an oversized bazookoid over his shoulder.
"We made a quick pit stop in the Weapons Storage room," Lister explained through his own gerbil-like smirk as Rimmer and Frank patted the prisoners down for weapons.
Howard shrieked and shrank back as Frank approached him.
"Don't you touch me," he cried. "Don't you let that thing touch me!"
"Hey, keep still, buddy," Cat said. "Don't you know your own brother?"
"That mutant is no relation of ours!" Howard exclaimed, shuddering at the very idea. "How dare you even suggest that – that—"
He sputtered, too outraged to finish the thought.
John glared.
"You terrorists have the gall to break in here, into our home, and insult our family? Our bloodline—!"
"They're not terrorists, Howard," Frank rumbled. "And, they're right. I know I don't look it, but I am your brother, Frank Rimmer. I was 'volunteered' for the GESS program about six months ago by our own dear Mother. Six months of genetic treatments, weekly injections… This is the result."
He held out his long, furry arms in demonstration, his deep, brown eyes looking to each of his brothers in turn. But, if Frank had hoped to find a trace of warmth in their twisted expressions, he was sorely disappointed.
"I don't believe it," John said darkly.
"Neither do I," Howard quickly seconded.
"Of course you don't. It's a load of nonsense," Metzeler said, staring Frank right in the eye. "This is clearly a ploy designed to distract us – to give the rest of their little group of malcontents time to break their way into orbit!" Her expression fell in pitying condescension. "When will you frontier colonists learn, you can't go blaming the Space Corps for every accident that—
"This was no accident!" Frank roared, but Rimmer grabbed his flailing arm.
"Hey, hey, easy now," he said. "We're not getting anywhere this way. I think it's time we take this little show outside. What do you say, gang?"
"I say we've got 'em covered," Lister said, readjusting his blaster with the cocky skill of an AR champ. "Let's go."
The trip down the hall went smoothly enough, with the three captives remaining docile as the Dwarfers escorted them down the first two flights of stairs.
It was the last flight to the ground level where things got dicey.
"Whoa – where did all those soldiers come from?" Cat said, looking down at the sea of uniforms crowding the atrium's polished floor. Lt. Commander Harris waited on the first step, standing smugly at attention.
General Metzeler smiled and tapped her smart watch.
"Should have confiscated this when you had the chance…Ace," she taunted as she, John and Howard strode down the remaining stairs to join her troops.
"What do we do now, Ace?" Lister asked. "Somehow, I doubt these blasters can hold up to all that firepower."
Rimmer didn't hesitate.
"Kryten, you've hobnobbed with the servers. By any chance, did they show you the servant stairs and hallways?"
"They did, sir," Kryten said. "But only in the back, near the kitchen."
"Not a problem," Rimmer said. "In this smegging house, all servant doors look the same. On Father's orders, they were always closed, never locked. Made it easier for him to sneak out on his squirrel hunts..." He quickly shook away the memories. "Now, when I give the signal, I want the rest of you to follow Kryten back to the second floor. He'll show you a way out."
"But, Ace," Kochanski protested, "what about you?"
"Don't worry about me, kiddo," Rimmer said and winked, his image flickering slightly as he switched the projection from hard light to soft light. "Just get Frank to Mother and Dad in time for the cake-cutting ceremony. I'll meet you there."
Kochanski seemed to swallow a protest, blinking several times before she nodded her understanding.
"Got it, Ace."
"Well?" the general prompted. "Will you lot come quietly? Or, would you rather play at being practice targets for my men?"
"If those are the choices," Rimmer said, "then I pick C: None of the above. Roast me a turkey," he called back to the Dwarfers, "I'll be home for Christmas."
With that, Rimmer let out a wild yell and charged down the stairs, his projected image passing straight through General Metzeler, Howard, John, then a host of very startled soldiers as his lightbee hovered, unseen, just ahead and above the crowd.
"Smeggin' hell, it's a ghost!" the soldiers cried.
"No way, it's some rogue hologram!"
"Can't have a hologram without holoprojectors – you see any holoprojectors here?"
"Then, it really is a ghost!"
"Who the smeg cares what it is? Just shoot the damn thing!"
The panicked commotion among Metzeler's soldiers effectively covered the Dwarfers' escape up the stairs as sizzling laser bolts slalomed around the picture-perfect atrium, stunning and wounding dozens with friendly fire without ever touching their intended target. By the time the general, John, Howard, and Harris finally managed to reestablish some semblance of order, Frank and the Dwarfers were well out of the building.
And, so was Ace Rimmer.
"Damn it," the general rumbled, her face purpling like an overripe fig. "Damn it all to hell!"
"Don't worry, General," John said, grabbing up a pair of blasters from the floor beside some writhing wounded soldiers and tossing one to Howard. "Set laser to kill," he ordered his brother. "Those Nehbee terrorists and their pet mutant won't spoil Mother's big moment. I swear it."
To Be Concluded!
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