Chapter 20: I Took Note

12:00 p.m.

Somewhere outside Carbondale, PA

Ray latched the steel curtain door on the elevator and put all his weight into pulling the lever that started the elevator's descent. Protesting against its work, the elevator jerked and bumped on its way down the shaft. Just when Lady Jaye thought her stomach couldn't stand anymore, the elevator issued a collective sigh and slowly eased into its normal operation. It wasn't much of an elevator—just a steel cage raised and lowered by thick cables. Staring straight ahead Lady Jaye made every effort to not look down into the approaching abyss. Keeping her eyes focused on the door, she watched the changes in the earth's stratum as they were lowered down. It reminded her in a way of Persephone kidnapped and dragged into the underworld. While Jaye was a willing participant in this venture, she had a brief moment of fear that something would happen and she would be trapped here forever, never to see the sun again.

The elevator shuddered to a stop, not quite even with the ground. Ray pushed and pulled on the lever trying to ease the cage into its base. It balked against his command. Ray reached over and unlatched the door. "Here, you get off. I'll try to fix this thing." He wiped away the beads of perspiration that had popped up on his forehead with a handkerchief he pulled out of his back pocket.

"Thanks." She grabbed the hand he extended to assist her. It was cold and clammy, barely making solid contact with her own. If she didn't know before, she knew now, something was up. In training, cold, clammy hands were usually a telltale sign that someone was trying to hide something. Looking around as she stepped out of the cage, Ray was trying to hide Cobra. No way no how were there any mining activities being conducted here. There were no people, no equipment, nada. The area surrounding the elevator was dark and silent. Too silent, her mind echoed. According to the team's research, this place should be hopping. Something definitely wasn't right. Stay sharp Jaye, she reminded herself. If this was indeed Cobra, it wasn't trying very hard. She expected that there would be some kind of front operation. Maybe Cobra didn't have time to set it up. That would explain Ray's reluctance to let them on the job site in the first place.

She started to circle the elevator shaft figuring that she might as well make it look like she was doing her "job." Frankly, she had no idea what she should be doing. The team didn't have the time to get into those kinds of details. She reached out and patted the steel lattice enclosing the elevator and ducked as chunks of rust rained down on her head. That wasn't a smart idea. Shaking her head, she shielded her eyes as she looked up toward the top. Not one bit of sunshine was coming in. Shuddering, she didn't want to think about how far down they were. Heights were still heights no matter if above or below. A long way to fall was going to be a long way to fall.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt her center give way and her body was slammed up against the elevator shaft. The rusty steel cut into her cheek and she spit little flakes out of her mouth. Ray leaned into her ear. "Now tell me sweetheart what you're really doing here. Who sent you?" His breathing was hard and fast, with an underlying need. His words rolled down her shoulder and gathered at her feet. She felt dirty and knew he was in this for more than a dollar. Ray yanked her back and slammed her into the shaft again with his body. His left hand began to do some exploring of its own, working its way down her arm and around to her front, pausing at all the wrong spots. "Who sent you? I can make this easy," he licked the back of her neck, "or hard." His laughter reverberated in her head and she went on autopilot.

Sometime after the Pit invasion, Flint took it upon himself to work on beefing up her hand-to hand skills. It was an unspoken understanding that if they were going to be paired up, they should instinctively know the other's style. If Flint was going to block left, then she needed to be able to cover his right. Besides, she had told him straight up that she didn't think she could run off and leave him again. Not if he was going to get himself killed, which he was clearly trying to do. While he disagreed that he was trying to get himself killed, he did agree that they should work more on their training together.

After a few days of sparring, Flint had challenged her to open up. She was too reserved and it was coming out in her fighting, or lack thereof. She tried a takedown and he'd snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and bringing her to the ground, the weight of his body grounding hers. She attempted the various releases practiced in their usual training sessions, but Flint was playing dirty. She wouldn't respond in kind until Flint spun her around, his body pressing hers into the mat, holding her down by the wrists. His face was inches from hers. But it was his words that stayed with her and the fear in his eyes. It was especially his eyes; they chilled her to the bone, this glimpse into his savage being. He was her warrior poet gone dark. You do whatever you have to do to get away. Don't try to be textbook. Don't try to look smart. Just get away. Hit them where it hurts and keep hitting. Be dirty. That's what they'll do to you if you don't get away. Don't worry about what any of us think. Just know I want you to get away. Always aim to get away.

He released her and she scampered away, turning to face him, nodding her head once. He went after her again and she let loose. After it was over, they were bloodied, bruised, and tired. Neither had the strength to do anything but sprawl out on the mat, exposed underneath the florescent lights. She looked over at him, and he smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. Do it just like that and you'll be fine. He rolled over, a lopsided smile forming on his face right after his grimace of pain. Let's just hope we can still have kids. He winked and she laughed at the joke.

It wasn't a joke now. She threw her head back, butting Ray right in the nose. His eyes watered and he lost his grip. She swung her right arm back and up connecting solidly with his chin. Ray released his hold on her, stumbling a few steps while trying to regain his balance. She kept coming, no longer caring if she was whipping out moves no DOE safety inspector would ever know. Using the momentum of her body as she pivoted around, the full force of her weight was behind her left fist as it sailed into Ray's throat. His hands instinctively went up, stunned, he dropped his protective stance. She took advantage and hit him with a soft right hook into his head followed by a solid left kick where it would hurt. She wasn't going to be a piece of meat. He simply wasn't prepared and dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. He shouted a few choice words about her parentage between his howls of pain. Jaye couldn't hear them through the blood pounding in her temples and the red swarming before her eyes. The situation had just gotten serious and she knew she had to be close. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed the rock and tossed it to the side, hoping that J.T. would pick up the signal and send Flint and the boys in. She kicked at Ray's arm as he tried to reach into his pocket. "Who do you work for?," she screamed at him. "What are you doing down here?"

He snarled at her, spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth. Then he just smiled. It was an evil taunting grin that Lady Jaye wanted to wipe off of his face. She didn't get the chance. Behind her a man with a hardhat and dark goggles made a solid connection with the blunt end of his rifle and her head. She fell down to the ground, dazed. She reached up, feeling the welt that was forming. Her hand came back wet with her blood. Her brain felt like wobbly jello. She tried to push herself up, but she was too late. The man came behind her and squeezed right between her neck and shoulder. She went out like a light. The man reached down to help Ray up.

Ray stood up, spitting out more blood and wiping the dirt off of his face. "'Bout time you showed up." Ray had suddenly lapsed into an Australian accent.

"Sorry Ripper." The soldier removed the hardhat and goggles, shaking out a blonde ponytail. "Hard to see in these things." One could hear the faint amalgamated British and Australian accents dueling in his words.

"Never mind that Buzzer." Ray/Ripper looked down at Lady Jaye in disgust. He kicked her once in the midsection. "Come on and grab her. She's got some explaining to do."

"Yes Sir." Buzzer laughed, hauling Jaye up under her arms and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

12:20 p.m.

Extensive Enterprises, 200 Park Avenue, New York City

There was no mistaking it; he had crossed wires with the Joe. Tomax sat at his desk, head buried in his hands. He rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the random images that flooded his brain. Darkness and falling, rocks and rust. None of it made any sense. She was in trouble, that much he could discern. Otherwise, he was picking up fragments of her mind. He didn't know why this happened or how he could do it, only that he could. Most assumed the twins were an anomaly unto themselves. It didn't quite work that way. Ever since Tomax could remember, he could pick up on the emotions and thoughts of others while Xamot had a knack for projecting his. Together, they fed off of each other or did what Tomax considered to be crossing wires. It was why he could feel when Xamot was hurt or vice versa. Every so often though, someone stumbled into the mix. Once upon a time it was Michelle. That had been a good crossing. Now it was the pretty little Joe. This was a bad crossing. Soon, Xamot would learn and he'd try to test the durability of Tomax's connection through his own means.

The twins once had a shy secretary, Katie. She was a cute little thing who blushed a lot when she mixed up Tomax and Xamot. Tomax thought it charming; Xamot was annoyed. Regardless, she was very good at her job and could do the work of three personal assistants. Tomax was thankful everyday they had her. Except one day they didn't. She committed suicide. It happened without warning. He was stunned. He searched his brain, replaying interactions with her, looking for a sign. It had been a bad few weeks for him. He had felt sad and alone. Sometimes he thought it would be nice to have an extended family. He wondered what life with Michelle could have been like had it worked out. Would he be arriving home on the 5:45, kids jumping on him before he even got his key in the door? Then it hit him, Xamot. Tomax barged into Xamot's office.

Xamot was waiting. "I'm sorry brother, I couldn't help myself. She was in love with the wrong brother. It tore her apart."

What could Tomax say? He was living Xamot's grief. Tomax took Xamot into his arms and rocked him to sleep that night. The incident was never mentioned again. But now? He couldn't let something like that be the pretty little Joe's fate. Funny how he thought of her as the pretty little Joe. She kind of reminded him of Katie.

Tomax pushed away from his desk and began pacing in front of the window, scratching at his forehead, a recent trait. She didn't do that did she? Michelle, he could only chalk it up to Michelle. His quest had become the Joe's quest and that was enough to bind them. They had to see it through to the end. That was usually how these things played out.

He went back to his desk and placed a call.

"I'm sorry Mr. Paoli. The laird is away from the office today. He had a personal matter to attend. I can try to have him paged if this is an emergency." The secretary's voice was bright and chirpy.

Tomax smiled. "No, that's fine Sorcha. I'll try to reach him tomorrow. No emergency."

Next he placed a call to Sarah. She answered on the first ring. "Tom, any news?"

"How's she doing?"

"Same. The doctor says the coma is just her body's way of preserving itself. I feel . . ."

"Don't worry Sarah. I promise you, soon, very soon, this will end." He hung up the phone confident that at least on that matter he was right.