Argh! My stupid computer has a habit of breaking up my sentences!!(anyone know how to fix that?)
To reviewers: Thank you!! Your reviews are what keeps the story going :D That, and Yassen has me at gunpoint at my computer right now...so...I better start writing... :O
–writes 'HELP ME' on the window-
Disclaimer: I don't ow-AAH! Don't pull the trigger Yassen!! I'm writing!! I'm writing!!
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"You knew this man?"
"Yes...he..worked with me." Crawford replied. The after effect of shock left him trembling and sweating. This was all so confusing. What was he supposed to do? What could he possibly say to Alex?
Crawford had sent Jimmy to watch the newly discovered room, not only for fear of losing John again, but also for a private conversation with Dr. Hoskins.
"Can we wake him up James?" It was the first time Crawford had addressed him by his first sign. It was a sign of minor trust and, maybe, sheer fear.
"I'm not sure yet. We don't if he can survive the re-generating process. I mean, how old do you think he is?" James said, slowly drawing out the words.
A painful feeling nagged at Crawford and he sighed. "He hasn't changed one bit in fourteen years James. To be honest he still looks like he's in his twenties. And, I was five years younger than him when he "died". Now, I look years older than him."
Hoskins nodded. "Exactly. That's what had me stumped, until, I realized what we're really dealing with here. That man behind the glass was part of more than a simple surgery. This project was secret, probably only known by a handful of people. This technology...it's almost like it's...well, held him in a permanent vegetative state for all these years, and stopped growth or aging of any type. Even his hair hasn't grown an inch."
"Is...is that even possible?"
"You saw it, didn't you?"
I did see him. I don't believe it though. I don't believe any of this...it's too strange...
"Yes...but what do I do now? I feel like I shouldn't tell MI6. If this leaks out, everyone will know. John had enemies. We have to protect him.I have to protect my friend."
James nodded and put his hand on Crawford's shoulder in attempt to comfort.
"We'll find a way to save John. They wouldn't have kept him alive just to die. I'll find a way to wake him up safely. "
Crawford sighed and lowered his head. "Someone has to explain this to Alex."
He received a questioning look.
"His son", he explained, "Alex is just fourteen years old. I don't even know if he would trust me enough to believe me...but...if you're right, and John does come out alive. At least something good will come out of it...for Alex's sake. From what I saw fourteen years ago, John would have given his life for his son."
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In deep thought, they were both unaware of a sleek, black car parked several feet outside the building. It had them bugged and had heard the conversation. The man seated in the car smiled with a wicked grin. This was a gold mine.
He took out his phone and flipped it open. Dialing a few memorized numbers, he put the speaker to his ear.
"...yeah, that's right...it's him alright...get the kid and meet me in twelve hundred hours. Oh, and this time J., don't leave any witnesses..."
If only Crawford had not been so distracted he might have noticed the desolate car. He might have even recognized the man from one place or another. But Crawford didn't move a muscle in his peril. And doing so, he ignored another key component in his career--
One thing every good spy knew, was that your past never leaves you. It could very well come back to haunt you.--
--Again.
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Cradling a football in one arm, Alex was walking toward his home. It was still light outside, though the sun was now setting. The furious red splotches sprinkled around the sun unperturbed Alex. He smiled down the street to no one in particular. Jack was waiting for him inside, no doubt.
Reaching his front steps, he paused. The door was open.
I closed it before I left.
"Jack?" he called out and stepped inside. Dropping the checkered ball, he shrugged. Jack had probably left the door open by accident.
But she never does that...
A scream sounded from somewhere in the house. "Jack!" Alex yelled and tried to run forward, but suddenly felt himself being grabbed from behind. A muscular arm wrapped itself around his neck from an unseen attacker. Alex struggled and clawed at the arms. Raising his left leg in stance, he kicked the kneecap of his enemy, and heard a grunt from behind as confirmation of the hit. Trying to
wriggle out of the grasp, Alex panicked. His mind wasn't working fast enough, he just couldn't think, and-
He heard a gunshot.
No!
"JACK! JA-" His mouth was muffled as the intruder slapped a hand over his mouth.
"Shut up!"
Approaching steps sounded from the front of the house. Another figure emerged, but Alex couldn't see him clearly because he was wearing all black and a mask.
Why is everything moving so fast?
Dizziness engulfed his nerves as black blotches started to appear. The grip around his neck tightened.
He's trying to choke me to death!
Alex braced himself for death, and closed his eyes. But then he heard an angry voice hiss out, " Idiot! Don't kill him! We need him."
The grasp around his neck loosened...well enough so it wouldn't kill him anyway... Gradually, his head started to clear, and he suddenly remembered the situation he was in. Tensing his arms, he lunged forward, twisting out of the arms holding him. Trying to get up, he ran into the second man. His mask was off, and he looked annoyed. Alex was sure had never seen the bronze haired man with firm build before. He seemed to give off a soldier-like stature in mannerisms.
Ow!
Shrinking back to the ground, Alex felt his energy instantly sink. He barely had time to glance at the needle mark in his right arm. He had been stung by a hyperthermic(A/N-is that how you spell it?) needle.
Alex drifted to unconsciousness and scarcely heard the conversation between the two people in front of him.
"...what about the woman?"
"...taken care of..."
No...
His eyes closed and that was the last thing Alex knew.
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The engine groaned when Crawford twisted his key and drove his car, and broke the silence of the quiet street. He dreaded this, but there was no possibility in which he would wait to explain the situation to Alex. What if John woke up before he had a chance to enlighten Alex? The prospect of it made him shudder. No, this may be an uncomfortable affair. But it was still happening, and he wasn't about to be reeled in like a fish by Alex, or even MI6.
I certainly can't begin to explain this to them...not yet... I'll wait and see if John is responsive.
He pulled into the dim, un lightened driveway. The shady setting only added to his anxiousness.
-Just like on a film screen...the only difference is that this is real...
Shuffling his shoes in procrastination, just like he had done as a child, Crawford went to knock on the door. He had only been here three times previously.
The first time was to meet the two Rider brothers and sum up if they were MI6 material(they were).
The second was to inform Ian about his brother's death (though he had already seen the plane explode on the news...).
And, the third and final time was the first time he had seen Alex. Crawford had been assigned to assign Ian to his mission at Cornwall. He had sent him to his death, and had lost many a nights sleep knowing what he had done to Ian...to Alex.
So here he was once again, only this time, he wasn't here to see Ian.
Knocking on the door, Crawford flinched. He still hadn't thought of what to say.
Hello Alex! Do you remember me? You know, the one that helped your uncle go behind your back for years and lie to you about your parents death? Well, guess what, I lied twice...
That was not his idea of a good way to start...
Why isn't someone answering?
He rang the doorbell. No answer.
It was impersonal, not to mention illegal, he shouldn't have done it...but, Crawford had an instinct, and opened the door.
It's not locked!
Unlocked doors were number seven on the list of "Suspicious" for MI6 agents. It was number two on his list.
"Hello?" When no answer came, Crawford let himself into the house and looked for any sign of disturbance.
Calm down... They probably just went out for a walk. And...left the door open...of course...you're brilliant Crawford!
He was beginning to get a headache from his inner voices. In fact, he was so engrossed in his thoughts that Crawford nearly missed the small, silver object on the floor. He picked it up.
It was the cap to a needle...the sort that was used before surgery in a hospital, or-
Oh no...
Frantically, he searched the house and found himself running up the steps.
"ALEX!" He screamed. Crawford had been through dozens of internationally threatening missions. He had traveled to countries whose names were not allowed to be known. He had dared death to touch him and dealt with some of the most dangerous criminals in the world.
But, he had never touched the concept of someone else being in danger, someone who had already been in enough danger...
"Alex! Ms. Starbright!" He was losing his breath and stopped running. His hand felt for something sturdy to be supported against and felt wood. He was standing in a doorway, to a bedroom or office probably. It was hard to tell in the dark.
What he saw was nearly too much for him too take in. He didn't need this. Not here. Not now.
Jack Starbright was sprawled on the carpeted floor, lifeless.
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A/N- Whoo! I'm glad that's over...Yassen was making me nervous with his gun. Speaking of which, Yassen will be back in the next chappie. I just didn't want to put him in if it was only for a few lines. Here's some questions if you have time.
1. Do you like Crawford(or Crawley...I just like the name Crawford better...)?
2. How should Yassen and Alex meet again? or should Yassen meet John first?
3. Who should be the criminal? Any ideas for the personality, nationality, etc...
I was listening to the song What goes around Comes around while writing this chapter...it seemed very appropriate for the chapter. :D I'll make a fan vid for this after I finish the story...and 'probably' use that song...anyways...
PLEASE REVIEW!! One word will make me happy(well, depending on the word :O)