Title: Power Behind the Throne Part 4
Author: Ethiercn
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: I am not making any profit
Firestar took out the door and dove down into the tunnel suspended from the ceiling. The hardest part of these so called training sessions was holding back when she so much wanted to cut loose and destroy everything. A stream of fire flashed into the tunnel. She paused, hovering for a few seconds, then with a shrug, burned her way up and out of the metal structure determined to conflict the next challenge.
Dressed in his gear, Thomas Chase watched the training session with a slight frown. Since her imprisonment, Angelica had attended the training sessions without complainant, even joining his men for their morning run, something that half exasperated him for her presence forced his men to wear their masks; on the other hand, the men pushed themselves more so not to be left behind by a girl. He believed she used the run as a way to get use to his resemblance to Randall. Where Shaw judged her too be compliant, Thomas knew she only seemed to be. He studied her when she viewed the feed of her father. She bite her lip and studied the picture, trying, he knew, to determine how much editing had occurred. The only time they had was when Justice had visited Mr. Jones; too much more, Shaw said, and it would tell.
Time, Thomas thought, to provoke her and see some of that anger from that first night. Every day he tried rattling her cage with a comment about Randall, but she never took the bait, brushing him off or burying her head in a book. Time to try something different.
Out of the tunnel, Firestar faced a fast moving pendulum. She ducked under the swinging axe, came around, and easily burned it away from the pole, causing it to crash to the floor of the training room. She flew under the jet of flame that came as the man carrying the flame thrower moved around the tunnel to attack her. She melted the tunnel so that it imprisoned the man. A short distance to cover and then she would reach the buzzer to end the session.
Suddenly the floor opened up, and elevator with Thomas rose out of it. He was covered in blood exactly like Randall during that last day at the Academy. Firestar felt a flash of raw anger. Bad enough her father and the families of her friends held hostage, now this ass wanted to play head games. Her first powerful blast destroyed the floor elevator, leaving nothing. Thomas landed awkwardly on the floor. He barely dodged her next blast which left a gaping hole in the floor. He fired off a few shots from his own weapon. She dodged them easily and circled around. He moved quickly a platform. She fired off few blasts and then slammed into him. They crashed to the floor. The shook took her breath away and brought her senses back.
She felt his arms encircle her waist, and then tighten as one hand move down to her butt while the other moved up to her breasts.
Pervert, she thought, and punched him hard in the stomach before she could stop herself.
He let go with a painful groan, and she rose once more into the air, melting the floor around him, before hitting the buzzer and ending the session.
As he got his breath back, Thomas could feel the heat from the floor around him. She hadn't held back on that punch. Apparently she didn't like the feel of his arms around her or his portrayal as Randall. "That's it gentlemen and lady," he called out as he rose to his feet. "Hit the showers." He made his way over to the room's computers. Firestar followed him. "Keep performing like that in the sessions, and Master Shaw will let you accompany us to town quite soon," he told her.
"Don't ever do that again," she shot back.
Thomas paused in the shot down sequence. Had the relationship with Randall been deeper than quasi sibling? "What? The blood or copping a feel?"
"Both," she demanded, her skin flushed with anger and embarrassment.
"It's possible that an enemy of Master Shaw will try something like that; you should be prepared," he turned back to the computer.
"I doubt they'll do anything like it!"
"You didn't enjoy it then? Did you like my brother better? Perhaps if you told me his technique, I could copy it," he finished with the computer and turned back to her. "It's been a long time since you've been with Justice, hasn't it? With his stint in jail and then the Upstarts. You must be lonely. That was just my way of letting you know I'm here for you, like my brother was."
Hands clenched, she took a step forward before she could stop herself. "You're nothing like either of them," she hissed.
He smiled to see the anger. "True. You should shower before dinner with Master Shaw. We can continue this conversation then; personally I would love to hear Randall's last words."
Her face paled, but she left without a word.
Shaking slightly, Angelica made her way back to her suite. In the almost two weeks she had been a prisoner; her days had fallen into a pattern. A morning jog, followed by an uncomfortable breakfast with Thomas, then free time or was schooled in etiquette by Rachel the cook, then it was lunch with more free time followed by a training session with Thomas, and then dinner with Shaw. She kept busy during the day, memorizing the layout of the property or studying. She was always watched, always followed, except, possibly, in the suite. There, she didn't know. She had found an old tape recorder and run it over the walls looking for bugs, like the hero had done in an old detective novel of Nana's. There had been no high pitched whine, but with technology constantly changing who knew.
The nights, however, were the hardest for then she couldn't hide from the fear, sorrow, and worry. She knew Vance must be dead for why else wasn't he a hostage like her father. At night she mourned him, plotted revenge, and worried about her father. She slept in snatches, and only felt safe after she pushed the dresser in front of the door.
She never felt so alone, not even in those long years at the Academy.
She discovered a hidden strength, however. While part of her mourned and worried, a stronger part plotted and developed plans, like being nice to Rachel, and noting that the news on the television meant that she was in somewhere in Colorado. Angelica entered her suite, grabbed a pen from the desk, and a fresh set of clothes. She entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She hated the fact there was no lock.
She opened the wall cabinet and removed a box of maxi pads. She opened the box from the bottom and pulled out a pad. This she opened and removed a piece of paper hidden inside. She wrote down the codes that Thomas had used for the computer underneath the code to the garage. Hidden in various pads and in the box of tampons was the information she had been able to gather: a map showing the layout of the house and as much as the property she had seen, sketches of the guards whose faces she had been able to see, and other codes to various computers, even some in some cases, user passwords.
She could do something soon. When she got to town, she would try to call or failing that send out a letter. She wouldn't risk the information, but she had stolen an envelope and stamp from the desk in the library. She didn't know yet, but trying to plot a way to let the others know kept her busy. She needed to be kept busy.
She put the pad carefully back and got ready for her shower.
Robbie and Vance exited the plane and walked across the tarmac. A stream of cursing caught Vance's attention. A man stood over his luggage as a hapless airport worker began to gather up the spilled contents of a suitcase. The worker snatched at a red and blue uniform and shoved it quickly back into the suitcase.
"Not like that fool," the man cursed.
Wait, Vance thought, taking a second look at the uniform. Finally, after days of slow going, they had some luck. "Follow him," he whispered to Robbie. "I'll get the rental car."
Vance and Robbie trailed after the car, keeping a discrete distance. It didn't seem like they had been noticed. "You sure he's Hellfire?" Robbie asked.
"The uniform matches, and he's heading towards the property we traced," Vance replied, his eyes never leaving the road.
"She could be at one of the other places or at none of them. We're guessing," Speedball pointed out. "Even with the team split up, it's going to take days to scope everything. Even with Thrash's . . ."Robbie stopped as he saw Vance's hands had tightened on the steering wheel. The bouncing wonder remembered the fight that Thrash and Vance had when Thrash suggested they find a replacement for Firestar. Vance had accused Thrash of not trying hard enough to find 'Star. Thrash had retorted that everyone was delusional and guilt ridden, but then had relented and arranged for the flights to check out leads.
With a frown, Vance nodded, "You're right. Unless . .. " Suddenly the car in front of them slide off the road and into a ditch. The man stumbled from the car. As they pulled in behind him, Vance took out the man with a telekinetic punch.
"What are you doing?" Robbie asked as they got out of the car.
Vance didn't answer. He ignored the fallen man, opened the trunk, pulled out the suitcase and began rifling though it.
"Vance!!" Robbie demanded.
"We need information," his friend replied.
"We don't know if he knows anything."
"I don't think he does. This looks like some kind of reference," Vance read though the documents and then frowned. "If he's new, I can take his place."
"What? They'll know."
"Not if I keep a mask on. There is a reason why these are standard issue," Vance pulled the uniform out the suitcase and stepped behind the car. "Faceless is preferred."
"It won't work. I know you're worried about Angel and think it's your fault," this last came out as a mumble and Robbie looked down at the ground. "But this plan is . . ." he fished for the right words. "It's something that Rich would do."
"Sometimes Rich is right," Vance countered. "We'll get more information if we can get someone inside. Even if she's not here, maybe I can find out where she is. She's been gone for two weeks. A prisoner for two weeks, Robbie! Have you even thought about what they could be doing to her? We need to stop messing around." His clothes were thrown on the hood of the car. "Do you have a better idea?"
Speedball shook his head, "Doesn't mean that . . . We don't even know who is behind this!"
"Call Nova. He can get here quickly and help you with him. You guys question him," Vance pulled on the mask. "I'll call soon," he said as he maneuvered the car back onto the road. He got in and drove off.
Robbie looked down at the unconscious man. Great, Vance was acting like Rich. Next, Thrash would want to do camp fire sing alongs.