Finding You Again

Chapter Nine

"I've always been the kind of girl that hid my face. So afraid to tell the world what I've got to say. But I've got this dream bright inside of me. I'm gonna let it show; it's time to let you know. It's to let you know this is real, this is me, I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be now. Gonna let the light shine on me. Now I've found who I am, there's no way to hold it in. No more hiding who I wanna be. This is me."

This Is Me by Demi Lavato (Disney Records) from Camp Rock Soundtrack

15 YEARS AGO

LONDON, ENGLAND

Joe still didn't know what was going on. A man had come in a few hours ago with a plate of food but no explanation.

He heard a key in a lock and bolted upright, ready to jump whoever came through that door this time. The first thing he saw was the muzzle of a Uzi submachine gun. Whoever was coming in seemed to sense his plan of action and taken extra precaution. Joe sank back down onto the bed in resignation.

"That was a smart choice," the tall, pretty blonde said as she slipped into the cell, gun pointed at his head, and locked the door behind her. She wore tight-fitting black leather pants and jacket, her long blonde hair swept back in a long ponytail. If she hadn't been holding a gun to his head, Joe would have found her attractive.

She kind of reminded him of Vanessa. His heart ached. He hoped he'd see her again.

And Frank. He missed his brother already.

"Where am I?" Joe demanded. "What happened?"

To his surprise, the woman answered without hesitation. "You are in London, England, in the Assassins' safe house. You were pulled out of your van right before it exploded and taken here."

"Why? I thought Al-Rohan wanted revenge on me?"

She chuckled softly, evilly. "There is no Al-Rohan. Al-Rousasa was a loner. He had no family, no brothers."

"But they looked so much alike…"

"A mere coincidence. Trust me, if we had wanted you dead, you'd be six feet under right now."

"But you don't want me dead?"

"No. It would be a waste. Don't be mistaken," she added quickly, seeing a spark light up in Joe's eyes. "I can put you through more pain than you can imagine without killing you. So don't try anything." She sat down beside him and touched his face with her gloved hand. "Yes, what a waste it would be," she murmured, tracing his jawbone with her fingers. Joe lurched away, disgusted.

"Don't touch me," he spat. The woman took a step forward and jammed the Uzi's muzzle into Joe's midsection. He gasped in pain.

"I think you're the prisoner here, Joseph," she hissed. "You're not the one giving orders around here. Now turn around and put your hands behind your back, like a good little boy, before I lose my patience."

Joe did as he was told and felt metal cuffs clamp around his wrists. His ankles were shackled together. The gun was shoved into his back between his shoulder blades. "Where are you taking me?" he asked.

"The upper level of Assassins base. Someone there has a personal interest in you and your abilities."

Joe was led from the cell and out into a deserted field where a helicopter was waiting. He felt something jab his right arm. A needle. Instantly, his world went black.

PRESENT

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Eric knew that the moment of truth was drawing closer. The excitement had finally faded away, and now he felt an unfamiliar emotion cloud his judgment.

Was it guilt? He wondered if Walker had a family. If he had children.

Eric wondered if he had a family. If he had children.

Was he any different than Philip Walker.

Of course he was. Philip Walker was born to die. Eric was born to kill.

End of story.

~Emachinescat ^..^