*We're here! Do you believe after all that, we've finally made it to the end of Refuge...and the beginning of something far more sinister.
Many thanks go out to my lovely betas, Mikell and sait4soreeyes. Thanks for taking the time to help me ladies, and improving upon the product in hand. :)
Thanks to the readers too, for making this such an enjoyable experience for me. Refuge will probably always hold a special place in my heart, and I'm glad others could enjoy it. On that note, let's get back to the ending.
Brandon slammed the door of the apartment that he and Greg shared much more forcefully than necessary. He had burned the entire way home, but the fire didn't feel like it was close to going out yet.
Why would Donny do things this way? It doesn't even make sense! If he'd had the decency to talk to me about it, maybe it wouldn't irk me so much that he was screwing around where he didn't belong.
He paced the length of the apartment, trying to vent off the fury that seemed to be coming in waves. Every time one set died down, another cluster of irritation was set up in its place. Brandon gazed at the plaster, seriously considering putting his fist through it the way he'd seen Raphael do a number of times.
No, it doesn't work if you have to think about it, and I'd just have to fix it anyway, he thought ironically, and settled for resting his forehead against the cool wall. Maybe I should get out of here, call it a night and head for the airport. Whether that plane comes in one hour or ten, they have to get something else scheduled, and I don't feel like ranting alone in this apartment.
Brandon ducked into the bathroom to pick up his last minute toiletries, glad for the small distraction from the torrent of emotions running through his mind. He carried the handful of items to his room, and took painstaking care to pack everything into the open suitcase waiting on his chair.
The lone bag was ready to go and there was nothing left tying him to the apartment. Brandon's intention had been to leave, but instead, he found himself hesitating. The initial anger was melting into sorrow, a powerful sadness he hadn't allowed himself to feel for years. He sank onto the end of his bed, contemplating the feelings that were assailing him.
My God…this isn't even about Donny. It doesn't have anything to do with him. It goes back to my dad, all the anger, all of the hurt. It's because of him. Brandon sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes tiredly. I missed something here. Going after my dad completely unprovoked…that doesn't even sound like something Don would do. There has to be some other reason. Why couldn't I see it back there?
Brandon dropped flatly onto his mattress in frustration, allowing the quiet have precedence over his mind. Now that the raging waters were calming down, regret was overwhelming him. The man turned on his side to look at the red numbers of the digital clock, and watched several minutes pass without moving.
I can't leave things off this way with Donny, he told himself finally. Brandon sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. I've got to call him. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone, and was confused when he didn't find it. Oh shoot…what did I do with it?
He heaved a tremendous sigh as he checked his other pocket, then reached for the light jacket he'd been wearing earlier that evening, which was now on top of the suitcase. Brandon found his keys inside, but when he searched through the pockets thoroughly, he still couldn't find any sign of the cell phone.
"Darn it, what did I do?" he asked aloud. "When did I use it last?"
As he stood facing the suitcase and considering the mystery, Brandon was surprised to be suddenly captured by strong arms from behind. A cry began to erupt right before an iron hand clapped over his mouth. When the initial shock had passed, his first thought was to roll his eyes and curse Raphael's name for kidnapping him a second time.
When he looked down, however, he recognized that the hand covering his mouth was human. The realization spurred panic back to the surface, and Brandon immediately began fighting the grasp of the men who were holding him down. He may as well have been beating the air.
Brandon jerked his head around to try and break the grip of the hand muffling him, to make any sound that someone else could hear. The tip of two fingers levered against a pressure point on his neck, temporarily breaking off the struggle he was trying to mount. The hand over his mouth was exerting so much strength, it was cutting off his air supply, and all he could manage were shallow breaths through his nose that felt nowhere near adequate.
A sharp voice uttered something behind his back that he couldn't understand, but it reminded him of Japanese. A deeper voice answered, and Brandon caught the flicker of a shadow out of the corner of his vision as someone strode in front of him.
He stared dumbfounded at the familiar form of the beastly man before him, now convinced that he had to be dreaming. One of the individuals behind him spoke in Japanese again, his tone questioning. Daichi nodded at Brandon with a smug smile, and returned with what sounded like an affirmation.
Wake up, wake up, wake up, he commanded himself inwardly to no avail.
Daichi's meaty hand fingered Brandon's chin, and he felt like his skin was crawling with disgust. The Asian man made disturbing eye contact with him, gloating, spiteful. Daichi pronounced two more short words, and Brandon had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He saw the man's fist as it shot toward him, but it became a blur as it collided with his chin like a bulldozer, and he knew nothing more.
Raphael cast an unhappy glance at his purple-masked brother, who was still gripping his phone.
"It was worth a shot I guess," Don said hoarsely. "I really thought he might pick up. I mean, he's leaving the country. We don't even know when he and Greg will be coming back. I messed this up so badly."
"You shouldn't have kept it from him, Genius," Raphael acknowledged. "But just the same, we all know you weren't trying to hurt anybody. Even Bran knows that. Give him a chance to chill out, and everything will be okay. You know how Brandon is. He gets mad, he blows up, and he gets over it.
Donatello nodded regretfully. "I sure put a damper on things tonight."
"Don, it's gonna be all right," Raph insisted. "Bran's like a brother to all of us; he's not gonna up and quit the family over this. If he doesn't answer the phone, then he doesn't answer it. Let him be, and when he's ready he'll come to you." Or I'll arrange a meeting myself if it's necessary, he added inwardly.
He didn't feel like Leonardo was being particularly useful at the moment. The oldest turtle had been sitting in a contemplative silence on the opposite end of the couch from Donny, as if pondering the vastness of the cosmos. Shell, Leo needs to say something. This royally bites. I wish Bran could have stuck it out and let him and Donny work through this. Nobody likes it when there's fighting going on.
Michelangelo had long ago retreated upstairs with Becky. The orange-masked turtle had hesitated, but it was Donny who'd pushed him to go, citing their youngest brother's need to sleep while the baby was quiet. The other three turtles had been left alone in the living area, and Raphael felt like he was running out of things to say to Donatello.
"Hey, Fearless, feel free to chime in here at any time," Raphael finally said.
The blue-masked turtle glanced at Raphael, before settling on Donny. "Brandon had a right to be upset," he said softly. "But I don't think he's really this mad at you, Don. I think he's dealing with a lot of stuff over his dad that he hasn't bothered with in the past, and you only succeeded in stirring it back up."
"I know I was wrong," Don replied. "I'll tell him that as many times as he needs to hear it, but he's got to give me the chance."
Leonardo withdrew his phone. "I'll try him again, Don. The worst thing that can happen is that he won't answer."
Raphael got up to stretch his legs from the recliner as Leo dialed the number. As the red-masked turtle flexed his calves, he suddenly picked up on a quiet sound coming from behind him. His brow furrowed as he turned to face the chair, bending down in search of the noise. As Leonardo hung up the phone and the sound ceased, something instantly occurred to him.
"Call it again, Leo."
"I just tried him, Raph."
"Call it again," he repeated more strongly.
Raphael felt down inside the chair as Leonardo hit the speed dial once more, and his fingers closed around the device. He came up triumphantly with Brandon's cell phone.
"Aw, shell," Leo said, annoyed. "That's great."
Raphael looked at his watch, and saw that it was close to 11pm. "We might be able to catch him, Leo. With the way his plane was delayed, he's probably still at the apartment."
Leonardo nodded. "Someone should go, I agree. We probably don't need to make it a family affair though."
Daichi was more than a little pleased with himself. He had tracked down the cursed American agent under his own initiative, without Yukiko's knowledge or approval. The Asian woman was still 7600 miles away, and unable to control him during the tedious task she'd given him to carry out on American soil.
Rounding up the stinking leftovers from our last trip to the States, those stupid enough to allow themselves to be caught by the police. I know she only wanted me to be out of the way before the plan for Takashi is implemented. Yukiko has always been power hungry. She cannot bear to share authority with anyone else. I am going to prove to Takashi-sama that I am worthy of his respect, once and for all.
Tracking Greg Heffernan down to the apartment had been too simple for words, and the worthless task Yukiko had provided for him also gave Daichi several pairs of hands at his disposal. And these men follow me. They respect me, he thought with pride.
Though the American FBI agent had been the original target, taking Brandon James suited his purpose too. Getting a shot at the other man who'd taken part in the assault of their fortress on Yonaguni was just as pleasurable for Daichi.
He'd wanted to strangle Brandon with his bare hands, but he resigned himself to taking the man alive. He is no good to me dead, he reasoned. It would be satisfying, no doubt, but his informational value is too great to kill him.
Brandon was contained elsewhere, and the belongings he'd packed had been taken with them. Daichi's intention was to leave the apartment untouched, without anything that would draw suspicion on the kidnapping that had taken place.
He was still lingering on the roof of the building even now, waiting on the clean-up crew that was sweeping the apartment. Daichi also wanted to keep an eye out for anyone who could possibly be coming. We were quiet enough that no one should have heard us, but I am not taking any chances. Takashi would never relegate himself to this type of duty, nor would Yukiko. I will do what must be done, and I have no shame in serving alongside my men.
Daichi's phone buzzed on his side, drawing him out of thought. "Taidan," he answered smoothly.
"Daichi-san, forgive the interruption, but I believe we have a visitor heading our direction."
Daichi glanced at the building across from him, where he knew Jiro was watching from a higher vantage point. "Do you see signs of the police already, Jiro? I have not heard a thing from here."
"No, Daichi-san, not police. I am speaking of another type of visitor, the kind who uses the city heights in the same manner that we do."
A gasp caught in Daichi's chest. "Shitenno? Are you certain?"
"I have never seen another creature move the way that they do. I am quite sure."
"How many? Do you believe there is only the one?"
Jiro hesitated on the other end. "I have seen no others – I cannot even see him very well, except for the glasses that are tracking his movement. Whoever it is, he is coming this way quickly."
"Keep an eye on him, do not lose him," Daichi barked, a thrill coursing through his veins. "Hold your position, and I will tell you when to move."
The Asian man hung up the phone and glanced at the three men who'd gathered up behind him expectantly. "It appears one of the Shitenno has decided to honor us with his presence. I think we ought to extend an invitation for him to join James. We must be quick and we must be quiet. I doubt that we will get another chance at this."
Daichi led the way over the side of the building, dropping onto the fire escape to get back to the apartment, where they could lay in wait for the demon. He fingered his taser with anticipation, smiling grimly.
This time, it will be different. This time I will get the drop on him, and prove to Takashi-sama my usefulness. Tonight will change everything.
To Be Continued...
*Hey, no fair getting mad at me! I warned you, didn't I? Of all the cliffies I've ever written, I have to admit that I consider this one to be the worst. The good news: I've been working like a fiend behind the scenes to write Watchmen. As of today, I have 70 chapters written. My goal is to start posting at the beginning of October. So that means you've got to hang in there for one month - ONLY one month, before finding out what happens next. That's the best I can do, people, so take it or leave it. ;) Until then...live in fear of Watchmen.