Part 5 – Missing
November 2nd, 2011
1 : Michael
2:19pm
T minus 1 hour, 41 minutes
The November chill ran over Michael's hands as he stepped out of the taxi. It had been a relatively calm trip, if one didn't count the colorful expletives his taxi driver had insisted on shouting every two blocks. Now, standing in this part of lower Manhattan, Michael wondered what exactly a retired Network Keeper would look like.
He wasn't here to find him, exactly. More to find a link to him. Somewhere, in the neighborhood, lived an ex-Network Keeper's sister. A reporter sister, of all things.
All senses on high alert, Michael crossed the street and entered the building. Far from being intimidated, Michael rehearsed his alibi for wanting to find this man. She was a reporter, after all, so he guessed details had to be covered. On the other hand, it didn't mean she was a good reporter, he reflected as he made sure nothing suspicious was going on. Besides him, that is.
It also didn't mean she could read minds. Not unless Max had secretly healed her, and thank God Max had outgrown that nasty little habit years ago.
The sister, it turned out, lived in apartment thirteen. Just my luck, Michael fleetingly thought as he got into the elevator. He didn't like elevators. They were death traps; difficult to hide in, to defend, and to escape from. He'd worked eight months with Ray learning exactly how many things he could do to an elevator to make it safer, but even with all that information, Michael still didn't like them. Seven floors, however, were just too many to skip the metal cage.
An eternity later, the doors opened, and out he went. He glanced at the hall right to left, and listened for a full minute for any sounds coming from the apartments. Although he wasn't expecting anyone to jump out of the shadows, habit had honed his skills to take every situation as if it was life or death. Something he now knew he had done back on Antar as well.
Of course, on Antar he had been looking for other kinds of dangers, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the sting of knowing he had failed Zan still hurt. It had been his duty to protect the royal family. And although he couldn't remember it, he hoped he had died defending them.
Letting the memory go, Michael rang the bell once. A minute went by without any response; he rang it again. Two minutes later, he contemplated if he should enter the apartment by—well, not by force. He didn't need more than the flick of his wrist to get doors open nowadays, but without a human being to answer his questions, there wasn't much he could get from the apartment itself.
They had never gotten good at getting that kind of flash. Psychometry, as Jake called it, had always eluded them. Only sometimes, under a high dose of stress, would they actually see something from the past by touching an object. They couldn't really call it at will, or at least not without a lot of effort and good luck.
The choice was taken out of his hands a second after he had decided to let it go. A woman in her early thirties opened the door, looking flushed. Short, black hair, not taller than Maria, she barely made a ripple in Michael's inner radar. She wasn't a threat. Michael raised an eyebrow at the way the woman was panting, as if she had ran to get to the door. Maybe he had come at a verybad time if the flush was any indication.
"Yes?" she asked, not intimidated by Michael's curious look.
"I'm looking for Christy Walsh?" he asked.
"Yes?" she asked again, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"I'm here to talk about Daniel—" The door shut instantly, leaving Michael standing in the hall. Just great, he inwardly grumbled. Just as he was about to knock, the door opened again. This time, the woman had a gun.
2 : Maria
2:23pm
T minus 1 hour, 37 minutes
Maria had only one thing on her mind: Baggage claim.
Following her fellow passengers through the terminal, she noticed Kyle was lagging behind. After the interminable customs line, she really needed a shower, a soft bed, and another shower. Airplanes, even in first class, did not compare to a good bed and a shower. Especially not transatlantic ones.
"Kyle!" she snapped, tugging at his arm so he would continue walking. First class ended once they were out of the plane. Now they had to mingle and hunt down a spot with the rest of the people at the baggage carousel. And God! Let's all hope my luggage didn't get lost. Again, she somberly thought as Kyle didn't move. The longer they took, the harder it would be to spot their stuff and take it out. Dreams of bubbles and hot water could only sustain her for so long.
"Jake's here," Kyle said, looking somewhere behind them.
"What?" Maria asked, confused. A second later, she understood. "What?" she repeated, this time in outrage. Jake had no business being here. Not in this airport, not in this city, not in the goddamned state!
"He's… he's really scared," Kyle slowly said, his eyes moving from side to side as passengers passed them by.
"What are you talking about?"
"This isn't good," Kyle said, turning to look at her, and then fumbling with his pocket, he took his cell phone out. "Not good, not good," he kept muttering as Maria turned to look behind them, searching for a tall, lanky, dark-red haired man. She found none.
"I can't make any calls out," he said, his eyes going wide. "My service is out."
"Sometimes it takes a few minutes for it to connect the network," Maria said, now worried. Taking her phone out, she searched for the emergency contacts. There were three. And one was Jake's. Mentally skipping that one she went straight for Ray's. She would never willingly call Dave as her first option, ever. A minute later, her phone wouldn't connect either.
"Damn it!" she said as she tried again. And again.
Kyle walked a few steps back. "It's useless; he's probably at the gates right now. We cannot get back there."
Why didn't you pick it up before? Maria wanted to scream, not at Kyle, but at the helplessness she was feeling.
"Well, he's Jake, right? He probably has a gazillion protocols for whatever…" she rationalized. Kyle looked at her unconvinced. "What is he thinking?" she asked.
"That he's cornered." They locked eyes. They could very well just walk away. Nothing said they had to risk their lives for Jake. Or Dave. Still…
Looking to her right, she saw pay phones.
"Okay, let's see who can tell us what the hell is going on here," she stated, dragging Kyle by the arm to the wall, the decision already made. "Do you have any coins?" she asked as she stared at the dark slot. She hadn't used a pay phone since forever.
"We're arriving from London after a six months stay, what do you think?" Kyle sarcastically responded. She glared at him. "Credit it is," she said under her breath. They avoided using credit cards like the plague, but always had one so they could be tracked. It was a red flare for Dave that something was going wrong. Since she wasn't sure something was actually wrong, she wasn't sure what the result would be. Better safe than sorry, she grimly thought as she put the card in.
Three minutes later, a slightly on edge Ray answered her.
"Who is this?"
Relief flooded her. "Ray! It's Maria. I'm with Ky—"
"Listen to me, and listen carefully," he cut her off, "someone has jammed our entire cell phone network in New York City. Jake's being followed in JFK airport, and—"
"I know!" it was Maria's turn to interrupt. If the entire network was down, then it meant… Her blood ran cold as the realization hit her. That meant this was an attack on Dave's organization. "I'm here with Kyle, at JFK. Kyle has just picked up Jake's distress."
On the other side of the phone, Ray swore. "You were supposed to be in London! You have to get the hell out of that airport. Now!" Ray all but roared on the phone.
"But what about Jake? We are already outside security, but we could—"
"No, Maria. Get out of there. Go to your hotel. Call me when you get there, far, far away from that place." Desperation colored Ray's voice.
"At least tell me what's going on!" she argued, hoping Ray wouldn't cut the line without an explanation.
"We don't know yet," he whispered, "but we think Dave is missing."
T minus 1 hour, 31 minutes
