Breaking Dawn
A Danny Phantom Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own Danny Phantom.
Chapter 12: Brief Respite! The Calm Before the Storm!
(Before you read any further, I want to apologize for this abnormally short chapter. My aunt, with whom I was very close, died on Sunday after a life-long battle with breast cancer, so needless to say it's kind of melancholy over here at my place. With such grief hanging over me, I fear my inspiration to write has somewhat dried up for the moment; with luck, I will feel much better after the funeral on Thursday. Needless to say, I'm not at my creative best right now, so I do apologize if this chapter is somewhat under-par. I'll go back and fix it if that is the case, I assure you. Thank you all for your understanding during this hard time for me and my family. God bless.)
Prologue
Washington, D.C
CRASH!
With a sweep of his arm, an infuriated ex-Major Andrew Skryme sent a sheaf of papers and a variety of other workplace detritus sliding to the floor with a great cacophony of noise. His face was so red with fury that one could have roasted a hot dog upon his chin, and the rat-faced villain's ugly features were contorted with barely controlled rage as he listened to the speaker on the other end of the phone line.
"What do you mean Brody escaped?" he snarled viciously into the receiver. "I practically hand you the man on a silver platter and you STILL MANAGE TO SCREW IT UP? What on EARTH IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?"
Skryme's breathing came rapid and harsh as the person on the other phone tried to sputter an excuse. "Oh, so he just vanished, is that it? You tie him up in a basement in a part of town no one ever goes to, post guards at the door around the clock, and he… just… vanished? How does someone do that, anyway, huh? Answer me!"
"…It was probably the ghost child, you bubble-headed idiot," Skryme hissed after another moment of terse silence. "Only he could slip in and out unnoticed, which, by the way, could have been avoided if you'd taken two seconds to learn how to properly manage the anti-ghost security that I PAID FOR! Do you have any idea what this will do to my-our-plans? If Brody didn't have an excuse to go sticking his fat nose where it doesn't belong, he sure as hell does now! What if he is able to finger his captors in a line-up? What if he remembers where the base is located? You could have SWAT teams on your doorstep by morning, OR WORSE! Do you have any idea how much a base like that costs?"
"…Oh, I see, you wore masks when you abducted and interrogated him, is that it?" Skryme continued snidely. "Well, that's real fucking original! Any ordinary street thug or bank robber could have thought of that! Haven't you ever heard of voice ID, nitwit? Now get your ass back there and move all personnel and equipment to a new location, or so help me I'll come over there and end you myself! I lead the Society! I am the LIGHT! AND I DO NOT TOLERATE FAILURE!"
The embittered ex-soldier slammed the phone back onto its hook with far more force than was necessary, and after taking a few deep breaths, Skryme's watery, shifty eyes shone with pure, undiluted malice.
"God damn you, Danny Fenton…"
Amity Park…
The first thing that went through Thomas Brody's mind as he regained his senses was Ow. This exclamation was followed by several moments of unthinkable obscenity, the likes of which would have made even the most hardened sailor blush. The agent's eyes, flecked the silver flakes that were a telltale sign of oncoming nearsightedness, moved like roulette balls in their sockets as the old cop reassured himself that he was indeed back in the Fenton domicile. Brody's beloved Sig Sauer lay just out of reach, an object of comfort almost like a child's teddy bear, and his fingers scrabbled against the table as he tried to grasp his old weapon.
"You awake?"Danny's voice roused Brody from what remained of his grogginess as the ghost boy stuck his head through the door.
"Yeah, for what it's worth," Brody snorted back. "Is there any grub to eat around here?"
"Way ahead of you," Danny grinned, producing a plate of toast and eggs from behind his back. "Mom figured you'd be hungry when you woke up, so she made this for you."
"Bless her heart," Brody wiped away an imaginary tear. "That's awfully decent of her. It's just the sort of thing my second ex-wife would have done."
"Your second ex-wife?" Danny raised an eyebrow with amusement. "Do I even want to know?"
"She ran off with some biker punk, okay?" Brody snapped, his usual bad humor returning as he gulped down some orange juice.
"Do you need some Advil or something?"
"I feel like a gorilla's been using me for boxing practice, kid. Of course I need Advil. And Vicodin. And Tylenol. And whatever else you happen to have."
Welcome back, Brody, Danny thought, grinning inwardly with relief that his friend's cantankerous nature hadn't deserted him completely.
"So what about the Society?" Brody asked. "Did you bug the place like I asked you to?"
"Yup," Tucker answered the inquiry as he joined Danny in the living room. "We now have eyes and ears within the Society, though I don't know if that'll do us much good if they move that particular base to another location. And that's also assuming that they don't pick up the bugs, too. The Society probably has the equipment to do that, with all the resources they seem to have at their disposal."
"Meaning that any info we happen to pick up will be more from luck than from anything else."
"Yup."
"P'TACK!" Brody spat.
Danny glanced at him. "What does that mean?"
"It's Klingon. Means 'shit.'"
Tucker, as a Star Trek fan himself, split into a grin that was wider than a peeled banana. "You speak Klingon?"
"Not fluently, but yes. Ma was a Trekkie and she made me watch the stupid show all the time. Needless to say, I picked up a few things."
"Nice."
"Moving on," Danny said impatiently. "What do we do now? We know the Society came after Brody, we have a suspect as to who is leading them…now we just need proof."
"That's the hardest part," Brody scratched his rear as he sat up. "I keep telling you guys, Skryme covers his tracks well. I doubt we'll be able to catch him doing anything criminal."
"Why not nab one of his underlings and squeeze him for information?" Tucker asked.
"I'm not going to stoop to the Society's level unless all other options have been exhausted," Brody said firmly. "And with my escape, the Society is going to be on high alert for the next week or so. We wait for things to quiet down, and then we make our next move. If anything, the Society is going to be more paranoid than ever; we need to let them feel secure and over confident. Trust me, Danny, I've had years of experience to learn: Overconfident criminals are careless criminals. Careless criminals are convicted criminals. The logic is flawless."
Danny tried to hide a shudder as Brody's cold, calculating nature came to the fore. It was a side of the agent that he'd become all too familiar with during his days on the run, and that thought in turn brought up all sorts of unpleasant memories. "So I should just let them keep trying to ruin my life and wait till they slip up, is that your plan, Brody?"
"Hate to say it, kid, but yeah. Just stand up and take your lumps, and we'll get them eventually."
"I hate that plan."
"I know," Brody grinned ruefully. "But don't give up. The Society can't fool people with their lies for long."
"They seem to be doing a good job so far," Danny hissed venomously. "If only we could just end these people and be done with it!"
"That's your anger talking, not your senses," Tucker warned. "You can't let them get to you, Danny."
The ghost boy flinched visibly as he remembered Clockwork's warning. "R-right," he stammered, grabbing his backpack and heading for the door as his cognitive functions threatened to go offline. "Well, time for school, I guess."
"You really must be out of it," Brody snickered. "It's Saturday."
"It is? ALL RIGHT!" Danny shouted, pumping his fist in the air in anticipation of not having to endure the scorn of his peers.
"Thank heavens for small mercies, eh?" Tucker grinned. "Why don't you and Sam go to the mall or something? After all," he added slyly, "she is your girlfriend, and this whole thing with the Society has cut into your time with her."
"Oh, my God! You're right!" Danny's face grew panicked as he rushed for the phone. "I'll call her right now!"
Brody watched him go as he sank wearily back onto the sofa. "I drink my weight in coffee every day," he grumbled, "and I still can't get that much energy…"