Hey everyone! I've really been on the juice this week. I'm totally switching to typing out my chapters before writing anything down first : ) Hopefully I'll be able to finalise the last few chapters before the end of July. I'm currently re-vamping a few previous ideas of mine to make the conclusion more plausible. I've been reading Robert Ludlum's "The Sigma Protocol" and got a few ideas from there. Man, I wish I could write like that! Anyway, hope you all like the chapter. I couldn't come up with a cooler chapter title, so I stole one from Fall Out Boy (love that song). Enjoy!
For a few seconds I couldn't figure out where I was. But I was acutely aware of wisps of smoke enveloping me from every corner. All I knew was that I was standing in front of a statuesque building; at least that's what it used to be. It was twisted and broken, crumbling from the bottom up in a pitiable state. I felt a lump in my throat as I gazed at the ruins, mourning for the architectural wonder it must've been in its hey-day. What was even more alarming was the appearance of two figures walking towards me amidst all that smoke and ruin. They were two women, grossly different in their ages and equally familiar to me.
"Mom?!" I exclaimed in astonishment, seriously questioning my sanity.
There was no mistaking it; it was my mother. I recognized her in an instant despite only seeing her once a year, usually when I opted to fly to Barbados to spend holidays with her and Cristo. For a woman in her late forties, she was still attractive. Every time she smiled, I imagined what my father must've seen in her twenty years ago that made him skip an important board meeting in New York City and marry her in a heart beat in a little chapel outside Jersey.
"Hello sweetheart, who else were you expecting?" My mom inquired quizzically with that knowing smile of hers.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, taking in my surroundings more closely.
"What else? I'm taking in some shopping with my new best friend." My mom responded hurriedly as if I were missing something vital in her words.
And that's when I turned and studied my mother's newest companion more closely than ever. It was Brandy, smiling back at me with that same coy smile wrought with love and understanding. She looked as beautiful as always.
"Brandy?" I asked dumb-founded.
Where the hell am I? Am I dead? But how could I be if my mother was here as well? I think I would've remembered if she had died on an alcoholic binge in some abandoned hammock. Well, I hope my father would've been tactful with that kind of information at least. What was going on?
"Yes honey, it's me." Brandy answered reassuringly.
"What are you both doing here? What's going on? What's happening to me?" I demanded in one breath, feeling a desperate need to hyperventilate.
"London, you need to calm down. You're going to be fine." Brandy chided gently in a sing-song voice.
"I knew she would react like this. London's always a drama-queen when she's not in control. I remember when she was 4 years old and I tried to teach her how to swim-"
"Mom! Please don't bring that up now! Just tell me what's going on." I implored impatiently, feeling scared for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.
"All you need to know is that everything's going to be fine honey. Whatever happens, don't lose your head." My mother encouraged wisely.
"And be prepared for anything. Remember what I taught you: upper cut to the nose and slide on the ankles." Brandy instructed matter-of-factly with a grim expression.
"Time for us to go Brandy, otherwise we'll never get to that boutique I was telling you about. Tootles London!" My mother greeted with an enthusiastic wave. Brandy blew me a kiss before departing after my mother's clicking high heels.
"Wait! What's going on? What do I need an upper cut for? Come back!" I implored hysterically.
All the while, the scene in front of me was fading rapidly, as if the curls of smoke were literally enveloping the ruined building before me and the two figures of the women I loved. And then I remembered that I was alone and all around me was black and sparse…
I woke to the sound of several men cackling near my ears. I opened my eyelids with difficulty, feeling like my head was spinning off of my neck. When I finally took in my surroundings, I still had no idea where I was. All I could make out was that I was in some sort of warehouse. The smell around me was strangely potent and musty, like boiled sweat. But there was also another smell in the air that I could taste with my tongue. It was bitter, but it made my senses more heightened and giddy. Crap, I'm stuck in one of OPIUM's cocaine warehouses. And I was strapped to a chair; tied securely with thick boat ropes. How original…
As if to reaffirm that, I noticed two men conversing near a wooden door, my only way out. Both looked like unsavoury characters out of a Tintin comic with over exaggerated eyebrows and moustaches. Neither looked like they had bathed in weeks. They stopped talking when they noticed that I was conscious and began walking ominously towards me.
"Hey look, Goldilocks is finally awake," the shorter of the two greeted with a menacing smile.
"Stupid, Goldilocks is blonde. This one's a princess," the taller of the two clarified with a leer as they began circling me.
I continued struggling against the knotted boat rope while Dumb & Dumbass continued taunting me.
"You're right, she's a princess. Is Daddy coming to rescue you, little girl?" Dumbass crooned, taking care to breathe all over me.
I took in his scent and nearly retched. Hadn't bathed in weeks was a slight exaggeration; more like years. I wished at this particular moment that I could forget to breathe.
"I know what we can call her: Rapunzel. Trapped in the tower, waiting for your prince to come. But while you're waiting, you can get comfortable with me in the mean time. I'll take you places you've never been before." Dumb purred, coming to lean close to me.
"Wow, sexy. Is that what you tell your wife right before you fuck her?" I demanded in a low seductive voice wrought with sarcasm.
That did it. I barely had time to flinch when Dumb drew back his hand and smacked me hard across the face. I began chuckling loudly to stifle the burning sting across my cheek when Dumb started yelling at me.
"Listen to me, you little bitch! You're not calling the shots here, I am! As long as you're still strapped to that chair, I can do whatever the fuck I want with you! Capiche?" he thundered, his face inches from mine.
"Hey man, cool it. The boss said that no one's supposed to touch her. She's just a stupid rich broad anyway. Leave her alone." Dumbass chided wisely.
"Yeah man, cool it. Besides, haven't you ever heard of a girl playing hard to get? You get hard and I'll play." I interjected coyly with a wide smile.
With an audible sigh, Dumb gave me one last withering glare before moving away from me.
"I'm gonna go check on those shipping schedules, stay here with her. Don't go anywhere…princess." Dumb scoffed before exiting through the wooden door. Dumbass choked out a wheezing laugh while I rolled my eyes. Once, just once, it would be nice to get roughed up by an intelligent criminal.
While Dumbass busied himself with something behind which I couldn't see, I began weighing up my options for escape. I had no way of glancing down at my watch on my wrist, so I did one better. I estimated that it must've been more than 12 hours since I'd been abducted and I was obviously being held captive at one of OPIUM/OPTIMUM's numerous warehouses. And I guessed further that it would have to be a warehouse in close proximity to OPTIMUM's head offices downtown where the CEO and Board of Directors held court. At this moment I also wondered whether my superiors where aware that I was missing. According to my own knowledge of OPIUM's previous kidnappings of public figures, I instinctively knew that Laurent Savoy, or perhaps a subordinate, had already contacted Omar with the news and terms of negotiation.
As to the terms of negotiation, I was drawing a blank. Why was I even being held hostage? Could this be because of what had transpired over lunch between myself and Laurent Savoy? Was he somehow holding me hostage to put pressure on Daddy to sell the Boston Tipton over to OPTIMUM Pharmaceuticals? If that was the case, then Daddy should have been contacted already by either OPIUM or DEMON under the guise of a bureau of investigation. Which left another important question: when would I be rescued?
I sifted through the dregs of my mind to what I remembered of Section 12, sub-section (6) of DEMON's handbook concerning hostage scenarios and negotiations. Once DEMON became aware that one of their agents or more had been abducted by a criminal syndicate, it would take them approximately 2 days to call in the services of a professional hostage negotiator, usually from the FBI. Once the negotiator was properly briefed on the situation, he or she would then make contact with the syndicate. Now depending on the extent of successful negotiations factored into the possible risk of fatalities, the process could take an additional 3 days. So I was looking at 5 days worth of red tape before the cavalry would eventually come riding over the mountains to get me. That's if I wasn't dead before then. So when it came down to it, it was up to me to figure out a way to get myself out of this predicament before the 5 days were up. Dumbass began whistling loudly as he came to stand with his back to me in front of the wooden door. Without another second's hesitation, I began feverishly working on the rope knots at my wrists with my fingernails, trying to dislodge them. Okay Rapunzel, it's time to climb down the goddamn tower…
I couldn't tell how long it had been since Dumb had left the room. How long did it take to check a shipping schedule? Or maybe that was just code for him to go flog his log in private. Something told me that Dumbass would be too much of a party pooper in that scenario. And speaking of the bearded moron, he came sauntering towards me again while I struggled earnestly to create some friction between my wrists and the ropes to try and dislodge them.
"Hey Rapunzel, you look like you're a little tied up. Get it, tied up? Like you're busy!" Dumbass chortled, enjoying his joke thoroughly while I shook my head solemnly.
Why, oh why was I blessed with breathtaking beauty and a large cranium to boot? Was this God's way of punishing me for being a narcissistic bitch all my life?
"Impressive. Did it take you 30 minutes just to come up with that one? What a burn." I retorted maliciously.
"Hey, don't get cocky with me princess. I'm the one standing upright while you're sitting like a chump waiting on Prince Charming." Dumbass returned with surprising finesse.
All I needed was maybe another hour to get these ropes off of my wrist. And then I would be more than ready to kick Dumbass in his less-than-evolved skull.
"I hate to disappoint you, but the only reason you're standing upright is because of your direct descent from a Neanderthal. The only thing you're missing is a club accompanied with low grunting." I quipped sweetly.
Impressive, he was even scratching his head in a perfect impression of a Neanderthal.
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Dumbass queried in confusion.
"It means you're an idiot." A voice supplied from behind him.
Before I could blink, someone I couldn't see for the moment had pinched the pressure point in Dumbass's neck, sending him careening onto the cement floor. I couldn't believe my eyes at what I was seeing. Lance was now standing in front of me, wearing a black jump suit and matching trainers.
"Oh dear God, I'm experiencing a psychotic break. Am I dead already?" I asked myself rapidly, feeling like I was breaking out into a cold sweat.
"London, you're neither dead nor experiencing a psychotic break. Now shut up and hold still, so I can untie you." Lance instructed impatiently and knelt behind my chair.
"Lance, what the hell are you doing here? How did you even get in?" I demanded in one breath while he busied himself with the ropes.
"Well, I counted to three, rubbed my hands together, whispered the words 'Ala Ka Zam' and bam, the doors opened." Lance supplied with a mischievous smile in that familiar drawl of his that I'd come to love.
"Oh ha ha, you're so funny as always that I clean forgot to laugh. Shouldn't you be alerting the cavalry outside?" I asked curiously while he continued undoing the knots around my wrists.
"There is no cavalry, it's just me. So we've gotta move fast and get the hell out of here. Now, are you up to it?" Lance demanded, all business-like.
"Of course I am. Less talking and more untying." I commanded in a chipper tone.
Lance must've taken that literally because he fell silent when he was finished and came to stand in front of me. Before I could respond, he was kneeling in front of me and examining my face.
"Shit, who did this to you?" he demanded painstakingly, touching my inflamed cheek lightly with his fingertips.
"It's no big deal. It was Neanderthal's partner in crime. I said some things that pissed him off." I replied nonchalantly.
"If he comes back in the next few seconds, I'm going to hurt him." Lance promised in a low voice wrought with repressed fury.
"You've done more than enough already Lance. Let me do the honours with that creep." I insisted vehemently which he nodded in agreement with.
As luck would have it, Dumb reentered the room just as I moved towards the door.
"What the-" he spluttered right before I struck him under the chin with the full force of my upper wrist, sending him sprawling unconscious onto his back.
"Looks like I am calling the shots, jackass." I muttered in disgust.
"Don't they make the cutest couple?" Lance murmured in awe, after he had dragged both Dumb & Dumbass into the corner of the room and laid them together in each other's arms.
Then I followed Lance out of my make-shift holding cell only to be met with more opposition in what looked like a storage room.
"Looks like jackass dialed a friend." Lance murmured softly.
"Or 4." I agreed dully.
"We're gonna have to fight 'em off. Are you up to it?" Lance asked in a concerned voice.
"Always." I responded confidently, balling my fists at my side.
Lance nodded at me once more before we both took our positions. Just as one of the thugs reached for his gun, I struck at him with my leg, knocking the gun out of his hand with a front kick. And then I made use of a 360° hook, which hit my opponent square in the chest, knocking him clean off his feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lance taking on two thugs at a time. In a matter of seconds, I watched Lance crouch down as they both came at him. Lance made use of a 2-leg sweep, which dislodged his first opponent coming at him from the left; then he pushed him in the chest, causing him to topple backwards and hit his head hard on the hard concrete floor. Just when I thought his second opponent had caught him unawares, Lance retrieved what looked like a small pruning knife from a back pocket. Making use of an ice-pick grip manoeuvre by concealing the blade in the palm of his hand, he plunged the blade into the side of his second opponent's knee. While the man bellowed in pain, Lance shut him up by striking at the Golgi tendon at the back of his elbow and then twisting elbow joint, causing him to black out on the spot. Just as the fourth thug came charging at Lance from the front, I stepped in front of him and grabbed at the man's arm into an arm-lock, thrusting it away from his body. And then I sent him careening to the ground with one of my 360° spinning heel kick to the head.
"Nice," Lance complimented sincerely with an approving smirk in my direction.
"You too." I agreed, matching his tone.
I picked up a stray gun from the floor and put it in my back pocket. Lance took my free hand gently, but firmly in his. And then we made a beeline for the corridor just outside the storage room, leading towards the exit. Before we could go any further, we heard gun shots echoing behind us, coming from the direction of the storage room. Instinctively, Lance pulled me behind his body to shield me. The exit was behind us and we just manage to scramble to safety behind a pillar in the corridor. It appeared that two or more men were hiding out of our peripheral view, attempting to shoot at us from beyond the storage room.
"I'll distract them while you head for the exit. I'll join you in a few seconds," Lance instructed quickly while grabbing a gun from his ankle holster.
I nodded to show him that I'd understood.
"Go!" Lance yelled and began firing in the direction of the storage room at the end of the corridor.
I began sprinting like Satan was behind me, ducking occasionally at the sound of fresh gun fire above my head. To my intense relief, I saw that Lance was only a few centimeters away from me, crawling on his elbows and knees towards me by the time I got to the exit. I began shooting in the direction of the storage room with my borrowed gun to give Lance time to get to the exit. And then when our bodies were level with each other, I shot a few more rounds while Lance sprinted out the door. Then I ditched the gun and closed the door sharply behind me. And the two of us began sprinting down a narrow alley outside the warehouse.
"Where's your ride?" I asked between gasping breaths.
"Just a few metres away around the corner to the right." Lance responded through gritted teeth.
Then we veered violently off to the right towards Lance's car. He touched a button on a remote on his car keys with a free hand, causing some lights on the car to blink furtively. And then we both dove gratefully into the car, seat belts the farthest thing from either of our minds. With a flick of his wrist, Lance turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Then with a shove of his hand on the gear box and a twist of the steering wheel, we were hurtling out of the alley at a suicidal speed towards freedom.
It seemed like an eternity had passed when I noticed that Lance had pulled his car into the underground parking lot of the shopping mall where DEMON's headquarters were located. Once again, Lance took my hand as we got out of the car. I made no objections to this gesture; it seemed only natural. The warm pressure was soothing to my now shivering body.
"Are you cold?" Lance asked shrewdly as we walked.
"I'm fine," I replied quickly, thinking only of getting upstairs.
Instead of bothering with the staff entrance in the shopping mall, Lance opted for the freight elevator in the parking lot. I secretly concurred, thinking of the funny stares we'd probably get in the mall based on our appearance. The elevator ride was surprisingly short and we stepped into the lobby atrium 15 seconds later, still hand in hand. One of the interns spotted us exiting the elevator and dropped the files she was carrying in shock. Collecting herself, she sprinted in the direction of Eleanor's office, leaving the files on the floor.
"Don't worry, I get that a lot." I joked feebly.
A few seconds later, Eleanor came towards us with the intern in tow. Her expression wasn't the picture of relief; she looked disturbed.
"Agent L, you and Agent Oz go wait in the conference room. Myself, Omar and HALO's heads will meet with you shortly." Eleanor stated briskly. And with that, she strode in the direction of Omar's office. What, no relief at my safe return? No happiness that I wasn't dead? What does a person have to do to get a few tears?
Lance and I were left to wait in the conference room for nearly 20 minutes, making small conversation.
"You're in trouble, aren't you?" I asked in a small voice.
"Pretty much." Lance replied quietly.
"Lance, I'm so sorry." I said sincerely.
"Don't be. I don't regret what I've done, not for a second." He responded earnestly, his eyes locked on mine.
I opened up my mouth to say something, but got completely side-tracked at the appearance and mine and Lance's superiors entering the conference room. I'd dealt with Moseby and Daddy on occasion when I'd royally screwed up. But that was nothing compared to the tension in the room right now. Although, Eleanor and Omar's expression were pretty tame next to Lynette and Salvador's.
"Agent L, how are you feeling?" Omar asked me politely while taking in my appearance with close scrutiny.
"I'm fine sir. No permanent damage." I joked hoarsely with a wry smile.
"I suppose that Agent Oz must be congratulated for a successful operation." Omar commented in a sardonic tone.
"And so he shall. But first, we need to make the necessary arrangements for Reuben Marshall's safe relocation." Salvador stated by way of greeting.
"Relocation? He's being moved?" I questioned curiously, glancing at Salvador.
Last I'd heard, HALO had taken complete charge of the interrogations of Reuben Marshall. So far, they'd been just as unsuccessful as when DEMON had first caught him.
"Yes, to one of HALO's secure safe houses. We're hoping that he'll feel inclined to talk in a more intimate setting." Salvador explained in a straight forward manner.
"I'm sure." Omar remarked dryly.
"If you'll excuse us, we have some appropriate recompense to organize." Lynette announced with the slightest hint of menace in her voice.
Just as the HALO troupe was about to depart, I found that I was on my feet.
"Wait," I called out, my hand going towards Lance's and gripping it tightly in mine.
"Whatever the consequences of your actions today, you saved my life Lance. Thank you." I murmured, my fingers entwined in his.
For a split second, it felt like there was no one else in the room, my eyes locked on his with deliberate intensity.
"You're welcome." Lance responded meekly, gripping my hand all the while.
"We should go. We'll be in touch." Salvador greeted, glancing over at Eleanor and Omar.
Then he, Lynette and Lance took their leave of us without looking back. Eleanor's eyes followed them and they flitted back onto me.
"Are you sure you're alright London?" Eleanor finally asked of me in a cautious voice.
"I'm fine. Something else has happened hasn't it? While I was missing?" I questioned emphatically, not being to take the tension anymore. It was Omar who broke the silence.
"We've uncovered certain evidence – phone calls if you will between your father and what appears to be a phone number listed to Optimum Pharmaceuticals. We are assuming that it's Laurent Savoy's private line. The phone calls go back as far as a few days ago." Omar began seriously.
"What does that mean? Has my father actually agreed to sell the Tipton to Optimum?" I thundered, losing my self-control for the first time all day.
"If your father has, it will only be a matter of days before Optimum announces the purchase in a press conference. You know how robust they are." Eleanor replied in a sardonic tone.
"I can't believe my father would do this without consulting me first. That hotel is my inheritance, my home. Does he know that I was kidnapped?" I demanded impatiently, finding myself pacing the room as well.
"As to that, we're not certain. But if your father was aware of the fact, he most certainly didn't hear from us." Omar responded matter-of-factly.
"I need to go talk to my father." I announced with sudden vehemence.
"I advise against that Agent L, considering the trauma you've already experienced in the past 24 hours. You should go home and rest." Omar advised in his kindest tone.
"It won't be my home for much longer if my father's made a deal with the devil. We need to know what we're up against." I responded in a calmer voice, my rational faculties taking over.
Omar and Eleanor glanced at each other before Eleanor answered for the both of them.
"Very well. Go and speak to your father and glean what you can from him. But will you do two things before you see him?" Eleanor asked quickly.
"What?"
"Take a shower and dress into something less – conspicuous." Eleanor concluded with the slightest hint of a smile etched on her face.
I took Eleanor's advice and made a detour to the Tipton before going to see my father. Knowing that Moseby would've noticed my absence at dinner last night and stopped short of calling the coast guard to look for me, I made sure that I had a plausible alibi in place. I paid Moseby off figuratively by telling him that my friend Chelsea had called me last night and invited me for a sleep over at her house at the last minute. That seemed to appease him temporarily; I just hoped that he hadn't scrutinized my inflamed cheek too intently.
Then I re-entered my suite and took a long and indulgent bath which soothed my aching muscles. The long soak gave me some extra time to think about what I was going to say to my father when I went to his office. Knowing his schedule, he was bound to be engaged in a million meetings all day long. Unfortunately, I was not in the mood to be trifled with. I needed answers and I needed them right now. I dressed myself carefully, ignoring brighter fabrics in my wardrobe for clothing that was lighter in colour and temperament. And then I exited the Tipton just as quickly as I had the day before.
I got into my SLK Kompressor (a gift left to me by Brandy) and made my way towards Tipton Enterprises, my father's place of work and permanent residence. The statuesque building was buzzing with my father's employers, each bustling to and fro in their best efforts to keep him happy and rich. His office was located on the 80th floor. I took the lift up and allowed my thoughts to wander while I travelled for approximately 20 seconds. When I arrived on the 80th floor, I walked purposely towards Francine's desk, my father's second assistant. I felt more than gratified that my father's first assistant, Cindy, was no where in sight. The last thing I needed was to get arrested for first-degree murder of slutty assistants.
"London, this is a surprise." Francine said with a start by way of greeting.
"Hi Francine, is my father in his office?" I inquired politely with a smile.
"Unfortunately he's not. He's in a meeting just down the hall." Francine responded ruefully.
"Thanks, I'll just pop in for a second."
"London, your father specifically asked me to ensure that there be no interruptions." Francine stated sternly.
"This is important Francine," was all I said before power-walking in the direction of the conference room where my father was.
And then I opened the oak-paneled doors with a loud swinging noise to the amazement and surprise of my father's colleagues seated inside. My father's eyes dilated to twice their size when he caught sight of me. I tried not to look too abashed for the interruption.
"London, what are you doing here?" My father demanded impatiently.
"I need to speak to you." I told him plainly.
"I'm in the middle of an important meeting. We'll talk later." My father replied dismissively.
But I didn't allow myself to be put off by my father's dismissal. This couldn't wait.
"No Dad, now. It's about the sale of the Boston Tipton." I stated in an icy tone.
I had said the magic words. My father made some murmured apology that I couldn't hear before he came walking towards me. I didn't allow him to catch up to me, but insisted on walking a few paces ahead of him back towards his office. I ignored Francine's questioning look as I opened the door and came to stand in front of the mahogany desk. My father entered a few seconds later with an unfathomable expression on his face. He walked around me and settled into his comfortable leather recliner behind his desk. Once he was in front of me, he regarded me with a beady and scrutinizing expression.
"Now that you have my undivided attention, would you mind explaining why you interrupted my meeting?" my father demanded in a booming voice.
"For exactly what I said. Are you planning on selling the Boston Tipton to Optimum Pharmaceuticals?" I demanded in a biting tone.
"Where did you hear that?"
"Is it true?"
"Not yet. It's still under consideration."
"Are you really going to sell my home and put the jobs and livelihoods of your numerous hotel employees at risk?"
"Oh, don't be so melodramatic London. You're not going to lose your home nor is anyone going to lose their jobs. Optimum only wants to sublet the hotel during its off-peak seasons with which to entertain its high-profile clients." My father stated genially.
"And you decided this without my knowledge? When were you going to tell me?" I demanded angrily.
"Calm down London, there's no need to get so worked up. It's a lucrative business deal. Everything's above board."
"Is that what you really think? Do you honestly think Optimum only wants to sublet the Tipton? Did you just decide this on a whim without looking into anything?"
That's when my father rose from his chair and stood across from me, his expression becoming increasingly infuriated. I was at least a head taller than my father. But in my experience, I found it difficult to cite a scenario when anyone, friend, foe, colleague or subordinate, had ever dared challenge my father on any decision he'd made, let alone his own flesh and blood. It took every ounce of courage and self-restraint to keep my face perfectly composed.
"I own more than 15 close corporations and possess a 50% holding in 20 other conglomerates. Whenever I decide on anything, it's never on a whim. I agreed to a meeting with the CEO of Optimum because I'm interested in increasing my network of business alliances." My father answered diplomatically with just a hint of ego mania.
"Funny, and I thought all you cared about was money." I remarked sardonically.
"I don't like your tone one bit, young lady." My father returned in an edgy voice.
"I don't know what Laurent Savoy has told you about his plans for the Tipton. But Dad, you have to trust me when I say that whatever he's planning is not in the best interest of the hotel. Please don't commit to anything on paper yet." I pleaded.
"I don't know who you've been talking to London, but you're sadly misinformed about a lot of things." My father stated in what was meant to be a sardonic tone.
"I know a lot more than you think." I said in a determined voice.
And then my father studied my face for a few seconds with a searching look. Whenever my father looked at me for that long, I always knew that nothing good could come of it. And I wasn't disappointed.
"I highly doubt that. You see London, I went to both Harvard and M.I.T. and got simultaneous degrees in business management and economics. I made a name for myself in the business world. And you've profited from my business ventures. You've gone to the best private schools, travelled all around the world. You've lived in luxury and comfort all your life and I've footed the bill for everything, including your lavish shopping sprees. You come and go as you please. Like last night for instance; Moseby called me and told me you didn't come back to the hotel. You've never given much thought or consideration for anyone's feelings, let alone any intellectual thinking of any kind. It's surprising that you would start now." My father concluded with a wry smile, which made me feel like I was tasting bile on my tongue.
Great, so the jerk didn't know that I was kidnapped last night. Now I feel so much better. I clutched desperately at the lump in my throat, which was threatening to break free and spiral into uncontrollable tears. I'd heard it a thousand times from every class of person imaginable: teachers, parents, my class mates, celebrities, complete strangers, my so-called friends. London Tipton is just another dumb heiress, an air-head. So when my father said it or rather insinuated it, it hurt all the more that my father had zero faith in me. His only child.
"You're right Dad. Maybe I'm not as smart as you are; maybe I'm just not that smart period. And maybe I don't know as much about business as you do. But my instincts are telling me that this Optimum deal is all wrong. And if you listened to your instincts, you'd know that too. There's also something else I've learnt about you today. Time and time again, you can't be trusted."
"What is that supposed to mean?" my father demanded in a steely tone.
"Why don't you ask Brandy? Oops, I forgot. Maybe you should ask your assistant Cindy. She's still alive." I replied coldly.
And with that, I turned around and walked away from my father. Then I got into my car and slammed my foot down on the accelerator, leaving a violent trail of scorch marks on the road behind me.
Later that evening, I found myself at the same bar I'd inhabited last night with my colleagues. I drove around for hours in circles it seemed until I couldn't drive anymore. And now I was here, drinking to fill the void in my chest. I wasn't drunk by any means, but with any luck I would be within the hour. All I could think about was how much I was losing. Everything I'd worked towards for an entire year, my home, my father's love, if I ever had that to begin with. I had no idea what my next move would be concerning OPIUM. I just couldn't comprehend how they'd managed to pull the wool over my own father's eyes. But for now I didn't want to think about that, any of it. All I wanted to was drink till there was nothing left to think about it.
I was momentarily dazed when I heard my cell phone ringing in my purse. I didn't recognize the number, but opened the flap of my phone anyway.
"London?"
It was Lance's voice. Why the hell was he calling me?
"Lance, why the hell are you calling me?" I asked in a less than gracious tone.
"London, where are you?"
"At a bar, the one I was at last night when those OPIUM thugs abducted me." I answered with ease.
"London, I'm coming to get you. Something's happened. Stay where you are."
And with that, Lance hung up the phone and the line went dead. Non-plussed, I put my phone back into my purse and ordered another drink.
I wasn't sure how long it was after that when Lance suddenly came bursting through the doors. I saw him scan the bar before his eyes fell on me. He was by my side in a matter of seconds. I could hear his heart thudding in his chest, that's how close he was to me. Every inch of his body told me that he'd sought me out for a reason, that something was wrong.
"Lance, what are you–"
"London, you have to come with me right now." Lance ordered quickly, glancing quickly around him.
"What's going on?" I asked in a bewildered voice.
"We have to leave now. OPIUM's on its way."
"On its way? Are they coming after us?"
"Not us, you."
"Me? What do they want with me?"
"I don't know, but you can't go home."
"Why not?"
"The Tipton's on lock-down. OPIUM's taken it hostage."
My eyes almost popped out of their sockets at this piece of information. Lock-down? Hostage?
"What are you talking about Lance? OPIUM only takes a building hostage where there's any resistance. My father agreed to Laurent's contract."
"I don't know what's happened in the last few hours. But whatever it was, your father changed his mind at the last minute. The outside of the hotel's crawling with police and agents."
"Wait a minute – you said lock-down. Are there hotel guests and employees still trapped inside?" I spluttered in alarm with dawning comprehension, grasping his arm in a vice-like grip.
"Everyone who didn't check out before 3pm. All of the day employees only clock out at 6pm."
Oh my God. It's Tuesday. Maddie finishes school around 14:45. Then she goes straight to the Tipton and works between 3pm-6pm. Oh my God, Maddie! The Martin Family! Moseby! Esteban! They're all trapped in the Tipton!
"London, we have to go now!" Lance shouted impatiently, pulling at my arm.
His words seemed to echo in my ears like a walk-man on low battery. My feet were glued to the spot and I felt like I couldn't breathe. It happened in a matter of seconds. The glass surrounding the main window of the bar shattered in front of Lance and I, liberating my ear drums with explosive clarity. The entire glass frame had been swept away by a single bullet fired at it with poignant precision. I felt my body twirl at a 180° angle, Lance's body beneath mine, his hands clutching at my waist as we rolled to safety. OPIUM wasn't coming anymore. They were already here.
Hope you all enjoyed that. I tried to take the advice of reviewers and include more ass-kicking scenes. Hope they were plausible, let me know. I'm gonna have to come up with an even cooler chapter title after this, damn! Hope you all liked the brief fluff moments between London and Lance. I'll try not to disappoint with later chapters. Please, please review!