Once more, Perry pressed himself to the floor, straining to catch the slightest sound among the ruins of his mechanized enemies.
No sound. Nothing.
Both good and bad.
Where do I go now?
Hazelton was ready. He had all the necessary documentation- fake ID's, driver's licenses and the like. He was going to flee. In the blink of an eye he would not be plain old Hazelton, he would be Mr Strank from Pennsylvania, though he never set foot there before. Similarly his pursuers would never set foot in the state. He would live a nice, peaceful life, and his plans would be forever frustrated assuming Phineas and Ferb made it out alive. Which made him think...
Did they have the locket with them? If it was at their home all this while, then the whole saga was for nothing! Of course, he had tried gaining the whereabouts of the locket from Phineas, but that kid's got spunk. If the locket was truly on him...
Phineas felt the weight of it. He felt its heavy presence, its cold, metallic shell. Once mementos of a mystery never solved; now worth far more then just that. He was, at long last, beginning to sense the real role that locket played, the real reason why they wanted it. What better to use as a weapon against us then our own inventions?
It made him angry again. This attack, so personal, so brutal. What had he done, apart from apparently stand between an evil scientist and his half-deranged dream of a virtual six-state area?
Of course, the attack wasn't directed at him. It was a repeat of what happened last time, but with them out of the equation. And with them out of the equation...
I never thought I'd say it, but the Tri-State Area needs us. And it needs us to survive and get out alive.
Hazelton walked through the door of his family home. As usual, he was greeted by a cheery voice that was too smart for its' age.
'Nice to see you, Daddy!"
Hazelton grinned. How could he not, when faced with Phineas Flynn's huge smile?
The memory staggered Hazelton. Phineas, his son?
That was all Hazelton could remember. I need to see more...see my past...he screwed up his eyes in concentration, despite the fact he had a escape to make good. But he could not escape form the inescapable truth.
I nearly killed my son!
And still Hazelton stood in his office as the memories came back to him one by one.
She was weeping. She couldn't believe it. Heck, he couldn't believe it. How had his daughter contracted meningitis?
Phineas looked at each of us with his clear blue eyes. Even at that age, his eyes somehow still conveyed a clear message: Be strong.
"But mum, she's still here!"
"I'm sorry Phineas, your sister Ariana's gone. Gone for good..." And Linda Flynn started mourning her daughter's passing again.
"She's still here. I can feel it!"
"How can that be? She's there," Linda said, pointing to a hospital bed, on which lay a motionless girl with flowing red hair. Had her eyes been open, they would have been the exact same shade of blue as Phineas' .
"There? She's not there!" Phineas said it with such conviction that even his father was stunned.
But Phineas only had eyes for his mother. "Mum, a good man once told me that when a person moves on, a small piece of themselves is left behind. And it stays in the hearts of those whom they love. She's here now, with you, with me, with Dad. And she will and always will stay there. She'll never leave you again."
In spite of himself, Hazelton was beaming. His son knew just what to say. And in the days and months following Ariana's death from meningitis, it would stick in Linda's head like a mantra.
He would never deny nor confirm it, but he was the one who told Phineas that.
The scene segues into the next one, like a play. A play he couldn't stop and had no power over, and whose driving force was conscience.
Finally, he remembered the last night. All of it. It was raining, and yet he had a dinner with a friend of his. For all he knew, he could still be waiting for him to come.
He took the umbrella from its stand and was headed for the door when he stopped. Why, he knew and did not know.
Phineas was waving to him.
It was just that, a simple wave, and it didn't strike him as odd. He had stopped for Phineas. Why, precisely, did he stop? He didn't know. Paternal instincts that something bad was about to happen, maybe? He walked on.
The road conditions were worse then he thought. He couldn't see much in front of him and with the torrential downpour, he really needed to slow down.
He reached a bridge. He was nearly there. Across, then a right turn...
They say it's always darkest before the dawn. They're wrong. It's always brightest before the dark.
He didn't see the other car until it was too late. It was careening straight for him. He tried to avoid it by turning away from it, towards the railing of the bridge.
For one split second, the utter silence convinced him he had succeeded, until-
Bang! The car hit his car with enough force to send it crashing over the railing, into the river below. The fast-flowing river simply gulped it down as if it were a gnat.
The car disappeared under the waters of the river.
He hurriedly undid his seatbelt. Water was slowly seeping in. In a matter of minutes the slow seepage would turn into a deluge.
He tried to open his door. He felt the latch open-
-but the door did not bulge. The current was holding it where it was!
To his credit, he thought fast. He went to the other door, took a deep breath, and opened it.
The water poured in and in a flash, he was free-
But the surge knocked him against the top of the door and he felt his head split in two.
He fell out, swept along with the raging river. His head felt like it had been cleaved by a sword. He passed out.
He couldn't feel his body floating to the surface, couldn't feel his body carried along by the river, dumped like so much waste on the riverbank.
How much time passed before he came to he didn't know, but he was in unfamiliar surroundings. He was looking at a man.
"Are you feeling better?"
The woman. The woman beside him. He didn't know who she was, but he could sense he would come to know her and love her. He didn't even know his own name anymore. What was it?
As if sensing his puzzlement, the woman approached him. "I will tell you later."
And indeed, he did tell him.
He learned he was Hazelton-
-That's not right.
-or at least that was the name that was chosen for him. He was one of five survivors when a plane crashed-
-Lies. All lies!
"What about my family?"
The woman paused, as if genuinely saddened.
"They're dead."
"It was a planned attack…a coordinated attack…we lost two of our members in that attack!"
"Who did it?"
"I will tell you…once you have agreed to join us. You see, this feud is secret, the killings made to look like accidents. Consider very carefully-once you join, you cannot back out-"
-Don't join.
"I join!"
And so he learned of how there were two rival families, two families who competed for power and influence and who have somehow, dragged his family into it.
-Not a single word is true.
He had many assignments, but the last one he distinctly recalled was picking up a shipment of money in a coffee shop. He would meet the courier, the right words would be exchanged and he would get the money. And he would be promoted, having fulfilled the required number of missions.
He had never seen the courier before, and it quickly became obvious this was no ordinary courier. Most couriers he had seen seemed anxious to get rid of the money, or drugs, or arms or whatever they were carrying. This one actually sat down for some drinks. He played along, ordering drinks.
The courier convinced him to do it in the name of the criminal organization, claiming that the top leaders had been killed.
Just then, the TV in the café showed the news. Four people had been killed in a gas explosion near a place he recognized as-
-the headquarters. The organization had lost its leaders. But here was this man, persuading him to do this in their name. He remained skeptical.
Somehow, the man persuaded him to build this complex, using his blueprints for everything. Somehow this man framed him for kidnappings he didn't do.
And somehow, this man persuaded me to kill my son.