Finding You Again
Chapter Six
"Broken words said to me. Broken mirrors make it hard to see. Does anyone feel the same? I need some help, I need some change. Broken dreams, and broken hearts. You broke my trust right from the start. How am I supposed to feel when nothing's ever real?"
Like a Racecar by Hawk Nelson (Tooth & Nail Records) from Letters to the President
15 YEARS AGO
BAYPORT
"Joe, where the heck are you?" Frank Hardy demanded in his brother's ear. "Vanessa's been worried sick about you."
Joe's head was still a little fuzzy as he tried to remember what had happened. Thinking about his wife being upset made him feel guilty, but he honestly had no idea how he'd gotten here or why his captor had let him keep his cell phone.
"I'm at the mall, Frank…" He hesitated.
"The mall? What are you doing at the mall? Come home, okay?"
"I can't, Frank. I, uh, got knocked out, and when I woke up, I was locked in the van. Everything's been tampered with, and I can't get out; there's no way to hotwire it. For some reason, whoever jumped me didn't take my cell phone. Obviously, he's not playing with a full keyboard…"
"…Which makes him more dangerous," Frank finished. "Have you seen any sign of your abductor?"
"No…but it could still be a trap. Maybe he meant for you to call, and then come down here. Frank, why don't you just call the cops…and maybe a locksmith. And tell them to bring me a sandwich, I'm starved…"
"Fine, I'll call the police, but I'm heading down there, too. Vanessa will want to come, too. Don't worry, Joe, I'll keep her safe. Where in the parking lot are you?"
Joe hesitated. "I'm, uh, in the same space where Iola was when she died."
Frank fell silent. "The Assassins are probably involved in this, Joe. We need to get you out of there, now. You call the cops, I'm going out there. Now."
PRESENT
WASHINGTON, D.C.
"You know, I'm a little nervous about meeting Walker," Joline admitted as she stepped off the plane, glancing around for the two Secret Service men that were going to escort them to Walker's house.
"Don't be," Darren advised. "Grandpa likes him. That should be good enough…Look, there they are!" They hurried over to two men dressed in black suits, wearing dark glasses. They looked the teens up and down, then referred to two pictures they held.
"Joline Iola Hardy and Darren Michael Hardy?" They nodded. "Please come with us."
They got into the limo, wide-eyed. "Man, we get to travel in style!" Darren commented. The doors locked.
"Must be a safety procedure," Joline said nervously as she tried to locks and they wouldn't budge. "To keep anyone from getting in."
"Wait a minute," Darren said after a few minutes. "We're going the wrong way! According to the map Dad gave us, we're headed in the entirely wrong direction."
"Oh, how silly of me," the driver said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Or should I say, how silly of you. Didn't you know there was a change of plans?"
"What do you mean?" Darren asked.
"What do you think I mean, genius? The Secret Service men got a call from Walker this morning, telling them not to show at airport. It seems that Darren and Joline have changed their plans and are coming with us instead."
Joline's heart caught in her throat. "Let us out of here right now!" she ordered.
"Certainly," the gray-haired driver agreed. "As soon as we get to our headquarters, you'll be free to leave the car."
TWO DAYS EARLIER
SECRET BASE IN THE JUNGLES OF ROMANIA
Eric was strapped to the Electric Chair. Any moment now, electric currents were going to surge through his body. Enough to kill a man twenty times his size. He was ready.
He closed his eyes. In his mind's eye, a wall was being constructed around his body, shielding it. What was heat? Nothing but a figment of his mind. It didn't exist. What was pain? Something he could block out. It didn't really exist. He knew this. Because of this, he could experience the worst kind of torture and not feel a thing. What were fear, and hate, and hurt, and love? Nothing but weakness. He felt no emotion. Because he knew that weakness would lead to death, he was not weak. He was unstoppable.
He was the greatest killer in the world. He could survive anything.
He thought of a light at the end of his dark haven—this was it. No more practicing. In a few hours time, he would be on his way to complete his first mission. He would kill whoever needed to be destroyed, escape leaving no evidence, and be welcomed back as the greatest killer in history.
It was because of all these things that when the currents sizzled through his body, he hardly felt them.
Pain was relative. And so was life.
He knew this, and so he would live.
~Emachinescat ^..^