Short chapter here folks, in fact Cynthia gets the most airtime. How did that happen? I'm not really sure but it did. I wanted to get something out and was feeling frustrated so yeah, enjoy it I guess. It's really short in comparison to the other chapters but the next one starts of the downward tilt of the story, and things really pick up so yeah. (lots of RaiKim in the next chapter!)
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There was really only one good reason why Cynthia Sommers wasn't a field agent. And that was due to the fact that she'd be diagnosed with a rare heart condition in her last and most through medical examination. She wasn't in any sort of danger from it but it wasn't a risk that the bureau was willing to take on her. So instead she was assigned to desk duty. For a time Cynthia had considered not taking on the job, trying to find work in law enforcement elsewhere, thinking that maybe other agencies wouldn't be as strict. She'd toyed with that idea for a short time but dismissed, deciding that the bureau needed people like her to function and if she filled a need than so be it. As time went on Cynthia started to thoroughly like her desk job and wouldn't let other people make her feel less important than an active field agent.
Despite the fact that she knew she could be a field agent if she wanted to-minus the heart condition, it didn't change the fact that she wasn't one and it seemed that being behind a desk for so long had taken its toll. With a sigh Cynthia rested her chin on the steering wheel and studied the office she knew Tom was in. She'd parked a distance away but could still see him moving back and forth across the window. She couldn't figure out what was going on with Tom, or why he'd be reporting to anyone about Clay's movements.
'Could he be involved with whatever is going on?' Cynthia wondered. She'd tried to connect the dots earlier after dropping Clay off and making her way back to where Tom worked but couldn't get very far. Raimundo's sister had been abducted, from her bed in the middle of the night apparently by a stranger which was rare and all the more troublesome since Amelia wasn't even a US citizen. That made Cynthia think at least that Amelia was specifically targeted and most likely she was just a pawn. 'But a pawn in what?' Cynthia wondered. Clay was convinced that something was up with Raimundo, was so convinced that he'd hopped a plane to New York City, based mostly on a feeling. As she thought this Cynthia was finally working up the nerve to get out of her car and approach Tom when another car pulled up next to the door to the building. Knowing she had no time to hide or move Cynthia just stayed still and tried to look inauspicious but the men who climbed out of the SUV didn't seem interested in her and didn't even look in her direction. Instead they moved purposefully into Tom's office.
Instinct and curiosity brought Cynthia out of her car and she even pulled her issued gun from her purse and made sure it was loaded and ready to go. Creeping quickly and slowly Cynthia made her way to the building. It was a small hanger, converted into an office with a set of concrete stairs under the door with a handicap ramp on the left side. Cynthia moved to the ramp and keeping low settled beneath the corner of a window, preparing to glance over the edge but didn't make there, voices inside distracted her. She jumped slightly when she heard the voices and then realized that the window was just barely cracked. It had been raining on and off all day and now that the afternoon was growing later the skies were growing even darker and greyer but luckily the rain had let up for the time being and Cynthia could hear the conversation going on inside.
"You might want to reconsider your tone Tommy," an unidentified male voice cautioned mockingly.
"I don't know why you're even here," Cynthia heard Tom say. His voice was wavering slightly and Cynthia's hand instinctively tightened on her gun. She'd only ever fired it on a practice range but she was confident enough with it that if she needed to use it she would without hesitation. "I did what you asked," Tom went on sounding slightly more confident, "I should never have heard from you again."
"We just like to make sure that things are cleaned up," a second unidentified male voice answered. Cynthia's throat tightened at the tone and the words.
"I did what you asked and I got Clay Bailey on a plane to New York," Tom bit back. "I don't want to know anything else except that you're going to leave Cynthia alone." Hearing her name mentioned in such a context made Cynthia stiffen and she dared a glance into the room. The two men were completely nondescript, looked so ordinary at first glance that if she'd walked in on their conversation Cynthia would have thought they were merely doing business. But a close inspection Cynthia read their body language, the aggressive stance and hard lines around their eyes and smug smiles. And they were careless; if a person knew where to look they could clearly see the shoulder holsters through their Armani suits. Tom was standing; his hands planted on his desk, trying to glare at the two men but wasn't really succeeding.
"We will," the first man said moving around the desk and Tom straightened tensely, "we just want to make sure you aren't going to get any ideas about talking to anyone you're supposed to." Working quickly, fearing for Tom's safety, Cynthia scrapped along the ground and found a sizable rock and hurled it at the back window of the two men's SUV. Before it even crashed she leaped for the edge of the curved roof and pulled herself up. She would have just run but with the mud her tracks would have been quickly followed.
"What the hell was that?" one of the men yelled as the door banged open after the window crashed and the alarm went off loudly. The two suited men, followed by Tom who looked slightly relieved, ran out of the office to see the source of the commotion. Seeing her opportunity, Cynthia moved without really thinking and jumped from the roof and landed a well placed kick between the shoulder blades of the man furthest down the ramp. The man's body slammed painfully into the railing that ran up the ramp, nearly folding over it, knocking the wind out of his body and possibly breaking a rib. Landing, Cynthia spun and trained her gun on the surprised second man.
"Don't move an inch," Cynthia commanded levelly. Without her eyes leaving the second man Cynthia stooped and pulled the gun from within the jacket of the still immobile man. Casually she tossed the gun off into the surrounding brush. "Now let's see you do the same with your gun," Cynthia suggested. Looking annoyed the man did as he was told and tossed the gun away. "Anything else?" Cynthia asked the man bit out a gruff 'no'. "You better hope to god you aren't cause I'm a damn good shot and won't hesitate from shooting you. Now," Cynthia stepped back, "why don't you grab your friend here and we can all go inside and have a nice chat." The man complied silently, sending her a deadly look the whole time and dragged his still immobile partner inside, followed by Cynthia and her gun and then a dumbstruck Tom.
"You did a number on him," the conscious man said once he'd dropped his friend into a chair.
"I don't give a damn about him as long as he isn't dead," Cynthia snapped not really meaning it but she guessed the man was in no mortal danger from her kick, most likely just thoroughly stunned. "Now, why don't we all talk about what is going on here."
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Lights, Camera, Action
Where so many pieces got their start
Destroyed, renamed, reborn
I could be a story all my own
In the best of the best is where the next prize waits
When the curtain falls be sure you're awake
"I'm going to find the person who thought up and wrote these clues and I'm going to tear them apart piece by piece," Kimiko threatened. Rai glanced over at her and grinned from where he lounged in an easy chair.
"I would think you'd be more concerned about killing the person responsible for everything," Rai answered back.
"I have a whole different plan of torture for them," Kimiko said tapping her pen irritably against the pad of paper in her lap. Rai just shook his head and decided that he wouldn't want to be on the bad end of Kimiko. They'd checked into their third hotel of the day, and like the one they'd left earlier they'd paid in cash and given fake names. Rai had made sure that there at least some security, a guy checking for card keys at the entrance and elevator.
"You're cute when you're angry," Rai grinned and watched her cheeks turn red and she glared at him.
"Enough," Kimiko commanded and then sighed and leaned against the pillow and headboard behind her. It hadn't even been an hour since Raimundo had found out that Kimiko didn't have a boyfriend and despite Kimiko telling him that nothing could happen at the moment Raimundo hadn't missed any opportunity to let her know that he was very interested. "Don't speak unless you have something productive to say," Kimiko told him looking over in time to catch Raimundo give her a winning grin.
"All my thoughts are productive," he told her. "They just might not be productive toward the thing you want me to focus on." Kimiko bit her lip in frustration and glanced at her watch. If Raimundo was right and the moment that they first clicked on the original website with the clock then they only had about fourteen hours left and apparently no ending in sight.
"Rai," Kimiko told him in a serious voice. "We need to get serious about this. We're running out of time and have no idea how many clues we have left." Rai tried to grin at her again but received a hard glare for his trouble. He knew she was right but that didn't make his want for her lessen any.
"Do you have any ideas?" Rai asked Kimiko not responding to her last warning directly.
"I'm thinking Broadway," Kimiko told him. "Lights, Camera, Action, and the reference to the curtains falling seem to point in that direction."
"Could also be something to do with the TV studios they have in the city," Rai argued. "Look at Time Square. There's got to be a dozen different studios there."
"I'm still thinking Broadway though," Kimiko said looking down where the riddle was written on the notebook on her lap. "They seem to be sending up to a bunch of different landmarks."
"And Time Square isn't a landmark?" Rai asked sitting up straight.
"Its not that it isn't," Kimiko sighed, "but my gut is telling me Broadway."
"I trust guts and instincts on certain people," Rai replied, "and you're one of those people. But in this case I feel like we also need some solid evidence." Kimiko nodded but didn't look at him. She agreed with him that solid evidence was needed, it was just safe and smart, but Kimiko's mind felt shot. Rai seemed to sense that. "Why don't you close your eyes for a little while," Rai suggested and Kimiko looked at his sharply.
"We don't really have time for that," Kimiko said bringing her hands up to rub her temples. Rai frowned again.
"Just a powernap," Rai insisted.
"I shouldn't," Kimiko replied and then turned her head toward the bathroom. "I think a shower might be nice though." She missed Raimundo's face go flush.
"Sure, go for it," Rai said in a tight voice. "I'll keep working on the clue." Kimiko nodded silently, apparently not noticing the tone of Raimundo's voice, and then made her way to the bathroom. As soon as the door was closed Raimundo let out a tiny groan cursing Kimiko for not understanding what she was doing to him. He was now convinced that men and women's brains didn't work the same way. If they did at all Kimiko would have realized that shower to him meant a naked Kimiko in very real reach. He was ashamed by how little discipline he seemed to have today. What had happened to his years of training? It wasn't right that Kimiko could so easily break down all of his restraints without even trying.
'Focus on the clue,' Rai chanted over and over in his head and moved to the bed where Kimiko's PDA and notebook sat. He heard the shower start up and he considered leaving to go work on the clue in the hotel lounge. "Get it together Pedrosa," he ordered out loud and started to work out each line on the clue. He was completely engrossed with it and didn't know that Kimiko had finished with the shower until he heard her open the door to the bathroom. Glancing to the digital clock on the nightstand and noticed she'd been in there for near forty-five minutes. He turned to tell her some of what he was thinking but froze at the sight of her wrapped up in a towel as she grabbed her bag.
"Sorry I took so long," Kimiko said not even looking up as she turned back to the bathroom. "I'll only be a few more minutes," she called back to him as the door shut behind her. Rai gaped after her wondering if she was doing this all on purpose. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, damp hair pulled into a messy bun Rai still hadn't completely recovered. "Figure anything out?" she asked trying to bring him out of his stupor.
"Huh?" Rai asked looking over in her direction and was relieved that she was fully clothed.
"Did you figure anything out?" Kimiko repeated and looked at him oddly.
"Nothing definitive," Rai shook his head looking away from her. "Do me a favor?" he asked.
"Guess it depends on the favor," Kimiko answered.
"If you don't want to be a distraction, don't want to distract me from what we're doing, then don't walk around in a towel." Rai glanced over at her as he finished speaking and saw her turn and impressive shade of red that easily matched the tank top she was wearing. She then looked indigent, obviously not wanting to be put at fault.
"Well maybe you should learn to control yourself better then. You're what twenty five? I would have thought guys would have better control of themselves by that age."
"Every guys in a hormonal teenager at heart, especially when it comes to certain people," Rai replied evenly.
"And what about being an FBI agent?" Kimiko went on as if she hadn't heard but the fact that she turned red again once he'd finished speaking made him think otherwise. "Aren't they supposed to teach you self discipline and stuff like that?"
"Oh they do," Rai told her looking serious. Kimiko blinked in surprise and then looked away.
"What did you work out on the clue," Kimiko asked deciding to drop the subject.
"Like I said nothing definitive," Rai sighed, "but I've got a few ideas." Kimiko next to him on the bed, arms crossed over her chest and tried to be as serious as possible and it was all Raimundo could do not to laugh. Either Kimiko didn't notice or she chose not to acknowledge it. "So show me what you've got."
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Jack Spicer, self proclaimed evil genius, was starting to wonder about the merits of a panic room, or at least a better security system. It seemed that everyone who wanted to could very easily get into his lab. As recent as earlier that very day Raimundo Pedrosa had easily and confidently made his way into his lab.
"Bastard," Jack muttered. Stupid Raimundo, still acting like he was the greatest thing in the world, Jack was just as good as he was but did anyone notice that? No. It was always about Raimundo, the golden boy of the FBI.
And then there was Chase Young, who had somehow managed to steal his technology and somehow make it into a working model. Not a prototype but a real life working device. It wasn't that Jack wasn't happy that Chase thought so highly of him and his work, its just….that technology went on the shelf with other things Jack decided not to pursue for a variety of reasons. He may be an evil genius but that didn't mean he didn't have a conscience.
"Fuck," Jack breathed out heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate some pressure. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't at this point in time. He couldn't decide if he should run or simply hunker in and hope that this would all melt away somehow. But that was just wishful thinking. Raimundo would probably catch on soon enough and not even his father could get him out of this one. Eventually it would all be traced back to him. It would probably be better for him if Chase Young did in fact 'win' this. But his conscience, no matter how tiny it was, wouldn't let him live with that. And most likely Chase Young wouldn't let him live at all after a certain amount of time.
"Damned if I do, and damned if I don't," Jack said aloud. "Damn it."
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Cynthia was staring in disbelief at what the two men had just told her. It seemed so unbelievable, something you would find in a movie and not in real life. Glancing at Tom she noticed the same expression on his face and realized that this was his first time hearing it as well. Somehow they'd made Tom believe that her life really was in danger and used him to keep tabs on Clay. Turning her attention back on the two men her eyes narrowed and she had to resist the urge to shoot both men, not fatally of course but enough to hurt out of pure anger. If what they said was true….shaking her head and gritted her teeth Cynthia reached into her back pocket for her cell phone, only to remember that she'd left it in the car.
"Tom hand me your phone," Cynthia commanded levelly.
"Cynthia," Tom finally spoke, "I'm sorry I had no idea."
"I know you didn't," Cynthia told him. "But we'll talk later. Right now I need to call my boss." Tom nodded and reached for the phone on his desk. His hand was just above the phone when the first shot rang out. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cynthia spin toward the door where the shot had fired from. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as one of the two men they'd been questioning jumped up, brandishing a knife and moving towards Cynthia. Tom moved on instinct as another shot rang out, this time from Cynthia's gun, and he quickly shoved her away, taking the attack from the knife. He heard Cynthia scream his name as he crumpled to the ground; pain he'd never known was possible taking hold of his whole body. Another shot, this one hitting him somewhere, he was certain as another blinding pain shot through his whole system. Things became blurry for him as a few more shots went off and then he saw another body fall to the floor and he knew it was Cynthia.
Cynthia struggled to get up as soon as she hit to floor but one of the two men she'd been holding kicked her down. Spitting some blood from her mouth, thinking how bad a sign that was since she hadn't been hit in the face, Cynthia tried to get up again and was shot one more time. The pain was intense but she managed to stay conscious but decided that since her and Tom's survival probably depended on it, she should play dead. Her gamble appeared to be paying off because, although it seemed like and eternity, the men left without further ado. Waiting until she heard the cars leave Cynthia attempted to push herself up but her arm buckled beneath her and she bit back a scream of pain.
"Tom," she coughed out a she raised her head and tried to push herself up again. She got no answer so she crawled toward him and felt for a pulse. She found one, though it was barely there and rationally fled from her head for a brief moment. The rage she felt though was enough to get her to her feet and she'd come to her senses by the time she made it back outside, intent on finding the men who'd hurt Tom and taking revenge. The rain had resumed and helped bring her back to her senses as she realized that the men were long gone. Clinging to the rail, Cynthia slipped down the handicap ramp, her journey made difficult by the blood coating her hands and running down her right arm. Her left side ached horribly but she didn't dare look at it until she made her way back to Clay's truck.
Pulling the door open proved extremely difficult and collapsed on the driver's side seat once she finally managed to wrench it open. Hoping that Clay would forgive her for the blood stains, Cynthia managed to grab her phone before she wasn't able to hold herself up any longer and slid to her knees in the mud. Using the truck for support Cynthia shakily hit the speed dial for her boss and prayed for an answer.
"Sommers, where have you been?" Her boss asked after picking up at the second ring.
"Donald's Airfield," Cynthia gasped out. "Send out help. There's a civilian down and I'm fairly certain I've been shot as well."
"Cynthia! What the hell are you talking about?" her boss shouted back.
"Suspects are driving a grey SUV, Virginia license plates, starting out IE2," Cynthia went on, "another car is involved. No description. Suspects are armed."
"Stay with me Sommers, help is on the way," her boss cautioned and Cynthia managed a weak smile and hung up. She needed to call Clay while she was still coherent enough to do so. Hitting another speed dial number Cynthia waited as Clay's phone went straight to voice mail.
"Clay," Cynthia coughed and realized there was more blood with a grimace. "Clay," she started again, "you're right it was the Heylin. We've got trouble, you've got to," but Cynthia's knees suddenly couldn't seem to hold her any longer as she fell backwards into the mud, the phone tumbling out of her hand. Fighting the grips of unconsciousness that were grabbing at her Cynthia stared at the darkening sky and wonder if the sun was setting, the storm was getting worse, or if she was just about to pass out. Her eyelids were growing heavy and coherent thoughts seemed to hurt her head. As her eyes fell shut her last thought before blackness enveloped her mind was that she would have made one hell of a field agent.
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Short, short little chapter here, just wanted to give you all something to chew on. The story is going to be picking up serious pace after this so hold on. I'm hoping to have a new chapter out soon, as in next week but I wouldn't hold your breath. I'm kicking myself cause I really wanted to have this story finished no later than October and to have already moved onto the "Ever the Same" sequel but my summer really got away from me. I leave for Tokyo in a week and I'm not feeling ready at all. I'm scared and nervous, but in a good way I think but the whole thing seems so surreal I'm really sure how to handle it. I've got a fourteen hour flight ahead of me and I would love nothing more than to write that whole time but my laptop only has a two hour battery. Anyone know how to remedy that?
Also if anyone can figure out the latest clue that Rai and Kimiko are working on I'll not only be thoroughly impressed but I'll do something else. Either do a one shot for you or something. I'll give you a hint. It is a Broadway theater but if anyone can tell me the specific one then you'll win the prize and my praise or whatever. Lots of love folks!