WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of violence and death
(Jenny's POV)
I've just spent the last minute or two pacing up and down the corridor, and racking my brain about how I'm gonna stop Phillips from killing Director Fairchild – as well as everybody else. But I've got nothing. My mind is completely blank – like Joey Essex from The Only Way is Essex. And it seems that the 'Joey Essex' syndrome has affected Rose and Daisy because like me, they can't think up a plan either.
This is bad. Really, really bad.
"We must have some sort of plan about how we're gonna stop Phillips," says Daisy. "I mean, we do have a plan… don't we?"
"I… I don't know," Rose replies.
"But there must be something. We can't just give up!"
"I'm sorry, but… I honestly can't think of anything."
I'm still pacing when out of the corner of my eye, I can feel two sets of eyes staring at me. I turn to see the girls looking hopefully at me, thinking that I have something up my sleeve.
"Why are you all looking at me?" I say.
"You're the ideas person," says Daisy. "You came up with some brilliant ideas tonight, so your brain must be cooking up something special."
I want to tell her that I've got a plan, but sadly, I don't. "I'm sorry, Daisy. But I don't have anything."
"Wha…? But… but you must have something – anything!"
"Not this time."
"But you've –"
"Daisy – stop! I've got nothing, OK? Nothing. No distractions, no tricks or fancy gadgets and weapons to get us out of this one. It's over, all right? It… It's over."
Daisy stares at me in disbelief, and Rose is just… quiet.
I sigh. "I'm really sorry, girls. I know I'm usually the one to come up with an idea or a plan, but unfortunately for this one, I've come up empty," I say. "And even if I did come up with something, how can we execute it against the likes of Phillips? He has God knows how many men patrolling the building, and there's only the three of us. We'll be dead before we even get the chance to draw out our Paralyzing Stun Guns."
"So what? We're just gonna give up?" Daisy says.
"You're not – but I am. I'm gonna surrender to Phillips."
"What?!"
"But, Jen, you can't! He'll kill you!" Rose cries.
"We don't have any other choice. Casey has already told Phillips that there's only one of us here – I will be that person. Either I go up there and give myself up or Phillips is gonna kill the hostages and then send his men down here to kill us. So if I have to die in order to save the lives of the agents of MI9, then so be it."
The girls are devastated, tears welling in their eyes. I wish there was some other way to get one over on Phillips, but we're out of options.
"Listen, girls…" I start. "I just wanna say… it's being an absolute privilege working with you – even if I only met you tonight, Daisy. You certainly impressed me tonight – from the arse-kicking with the guards to when you made your feelings clear to Blane. I hope you two stay together for a very long time."
"We will, Jenny," she says. "We will."
"And Rose – you continue to be the most brilliant that you ever are. From your inventions to your equations to your problem-solving, you continue to make me proud – even after I'm gone."
"That won't happen, but I'll still do all those things," says Rose.
The three of us share a big, hard hug – this may be the last time we'll see each other. But on the other hand, I'm hoping to buy some time long enough for an extraction team to come and rescue us – that's if Lenny has called them.
And then I hear footsteps. We pull away, listening. Quick, light footsteps, clatter-clattering down the corridor. Too light for a guard. It's probably Casey to take me upstairs.
"You two better hide – we don't want Casey to take you in too, in case she has a guard with her," I tell Rose and Daisy.
The girls give a sad nod. "OK," they say, and they scurry away, down the corridor, round the corner, gone.
So this is it. It seems that my nine lives have finally run out. If I die tonight, at least I died for protecting my colleagues. I'm sacrificing myself for the greater good – a little something Frank told me months ago. Speaking of whom, I hope he knows that I'll love him forever – even after death.
The footsteps are coming along the corridor, getting nearer and nearer. I stand in the hall, my heart thudding, ready for Casey to take me upstairs to face the man who has caused trouble and terror.
The footsteps are getting louder now as Casey gets closer. I try to tell myself that it's gonna be all right, but I know that's bollocks. I need a bloody miracle to get myself out of this mess. Then I see a dark shape on the floor of the corridor. She's arrived. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and hold my hands out knowing that I'm going to be handcuffed. But as the person turns the corner, my arms drop and my mouth falls open when I see who that person actually is.
"You!" I gasp.
(Frank's POV)
It's been nearly ten minutes since Phillips announced via intercom that he'll start executing everyone if the person – probably Jen – doesn't show up. After looking at his watch for about the millionth time, Phillips gets a gun from one of the armed guards and points it at Director Fairchild.
"It seems that our friend has decided to play chicken and not follow up on my offer," he says. "Still, though, even if they do turn up, I'll still end up shooting you. It's being fun, Frannie – really fun. Tell my brother I said hi."
Phillips presses the barrel against the director's neck. He cocks the gun and he's about to squeeze down on the trigger…
We all jump violently when we hear a knock at the door.
Phillips pulls away the gun and lets out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, my God – what?" he shouts, turning to the door.
The door opens and a guard in a balaclava enters the room. "We're sorry to disturb you, sir. But there's someone you should see."
The guard steps to one side and my heart sinks when I see who enters the room – I've already known for the past ten minutes.
It's Jenny.
She's escorted into the room by two more guards in balaclavas, their guns pointing at her lower back so she doesn't try anything. Not that she can, anyway – she's handcuffed. Seeing her like that, knowing that our last hope is gone, is devastating.
"I'm here, Phillips," she says.
"Yes you are." He lowers his gun. "So, Miss MI9, we meet again. And I must say when I first saw you; you were not quite what I was expecting. I thought you'd be, like… an ugly guy or something, not… Beyoncé. You've got the same exact bangin' body as her: wide hips, thick thigh and titties small enough to suck whole. Hm! Just looking at your body in the formfitting catsuit makes my dick so hard."
Jenny stands in silence, trying to hide her disgust – and who can blame her? I just literally stopped myself from tackling Phillips and beating him senseless. That's my girlfriend he's talking about.
"Unfortunately, unlike Beyoncé, she doesn't go around beating up my guys like she's Wonder Woman," Phillips continues. "Search her."
One guards cover as the other frisks Jenny. He takes off her utility belt and throws it on the table, followed by her watch-communicator and a lapel pin.
"Nine numbers down, three to go," a guard says over the radio. "Make it ten – we're cooking in here."
"Excellent," Phillips replies with a satisfying, smug smile. He takes out a chair. "Put her here."
Jenny is shoved into the chair by the guard. Phillips pulls up another chair and sits down opposite her. He gets the duffel bag and puts it on the table. He opens it… and takes out a bottle of Champagne of all things. He removes the foil and the wire holding down the cork while Jenny remains defiant.
"For some guys it's a special pair of socks. Other guys, it's the piece – the gun – or bullets, custom tip. For me, I suck my luck from a bottle of Champagne. I bring one for every job," says Phillips.
He aims the bottle away from Jen and pops the cork. It bounces off the wall and lands somewhere in the corner of the room.
"I usually wait until we're on getaway, but this time, I'm feeling so good about our progress that I'm suckin' premature." Phillips swigs from the bottle, and we watch as he drinks more… and more… and some more. Then he lowers the bottle and moves to Jen, putting the bottle on her lips. But she doesn't accept it – she just stares at Phillips in a deadly and hateful way.
"I'd like you to join me," he says. "As Confucius said, 'what looks offer, may be demand'."
Their eyes lock for a long while. He'll kill her if she doesn't drink. Jenny's lips parts and drinks from the bottle. Phillips keeps tipping it, until she chokes a bit on it. Phillips smiles and takes the bottle away.
"I should probably tell you when I took a sip just now, I backwashed. Like big time," he says.
I give a grimace of revolt.
"Yuck," I hear Carrie whisper.
"You know," Phillips continues, "you and wannabe spy boyfriend caused a lot of trouble tonight – beating up my men, shooting them, freezing them, impaling them with spikes, even tying two of them up in the ladies' room in nothing but their underwear. You even went and spoiled Casey's beautiful face."
I look to the blonde girl. The nosebleed has stopped, but from the look of it, her nose and the surrounding area still looks sore and tender.
"So what do you have to say for yourself?" Phillips asks Jenny.
She gives a little shrug. "Those weak little bitches had it coming," she murmurs.
Her head jerks as Phillips slaps her hard across the face. My head jerks as if he's hit me. It's like I can feel Jenny's pain – and it hurts like hell.
"Don't you ever call my niece a bitch! You hear me? You jumped-up slapper," says Phillips.
Jenny snaps her head back to Phillips, glaring angrily at him as her nose spurts like a scarlet fountain, but she says nothing.
"Hmph!" Phillips gets up from his chair and goes over to Director Fairchild. Her face – teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut – betrays the horrible pain she is suffering from. He looks to her and smiles – like a shark.
"Hey, remember Griff? That big guy? DoI's worked him so hard. Straps with blades on them… these tricky glass syringes… acid… they were creative. But he didn't go down – until they opened the Box. Guy took three needles before his heart finally gave it up."
"How many did you take?" the director asks.
There's something in Phillips' face – a flicker of tension. Director Fairchild knows she's struck a nerve.
Phillips takes out another needle. "I want to hear you scream the way my men did." He sticks the fourth needle into Director Fairchild. She gives an anguished cry as the pain shoots through her body. Phillips casts a look to the director as if to say, "I told you so."
"They broke you, didn't they?" Jenny suddenly says. Phillips turns to her – we all do. She has a secret smile on her face, like she's simply enjoying her own private joke. It's like having someone laugh at you, except that Jenny's smile is far more unsettling, far more sinister. A cat eyeing up a trapped mouse – that's exactly what she reminds me of.
"They made you beg," she continues.
"Don't you dare…" Phillips starts.
She puts her head on one side, her voice a silly high-pitched imitation. "Oh please, I can't take it anymore!" Then she says in her normal voice, "Is that what you said to them?"
"You know how many needles I've got…?"
"I know what you did. You cried for mercy."
"That is not what happened."
"You wept like a baby."
"That is not what happened."
"Like a little baby!" Jenny throws her head back and screeches. She rocks back and forth with laughter.
"SHUT UP!" Phillips yells. He draws out his gun and fires.
The laughter has suddenly stopped. Jenny freezes in horror, her face pale and cold. She looks down at herself. She looks up at Phillips and then to me. "Frank…" She whispers, and she topples to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut. She lands with a dull thud.
"Jenny!" Carrie screams. She rushes over to her – as does Blane and Oscar. No-one stops them – we're in too much of a shock.
I feel tears stinging in my eyes. I stand up shakily and walk to the table. My breath catches in my throat as I peer over the table and see Jenny laying there motionless and still. There's a gaping hole in her chest, dark red blood staining her catsuit. She isn't moving a muscle. She isn't breathing. She just lays there, lifeless on the floor, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"Jenny?" My voice is in a choked whisper.
"She's dead," Blane says quietly. "Jenny's dead. Jenny's dead."
"Not Jenny! No! Not Jenny!" Carrie cries, her voice going high-pitched. Oscar gets his arms around her as Carrie howls into his shoulder. Tears are pouring down Oscar's cheeks. Blane drops to the floor by Jenny's body. He kneels there, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
Frightened voices compete with the cries.
For a moment, I'm frozen in shock. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't be. Not without Jenny – the love of my life. She's dead – I can't believe she's… dead. This is all Phillips' doing. He killed her. He killed my girlfriend. Suddenly, red-hot rage explodes inside me and I burst into action.
"You bastard!" I scream as I shoot across the room and throw myself at him. "You murdering bastard! You killed my girlfriend! You killed her! You killed her!" I cry out, beating him with all the strength I can muster. Then Phillips strikes out with the handle of the gun and I drop to the floor, clutching my face.
Phillips stares down at me in disgust. His hair is sticking up on end. "Don't ever jump in my face like that again, you little shit! So she was your girlfriend, huh? Well, now you get bloody well join her."
He raises his gun and takes aim. Tears are still running down my cheeks, but I don't give a damn – at least now I'll be with Jenny.
Suddenly, Casey steps in front of me. "That is enough!"
"Casey, darling, step out of the way – you're blocking my shot," says Phillips.
"I am not letting you do this, Uncle Casper! I'm not gonna stand back and watch you kill innocent people because your stupidity and your selfishness got you and the others caught. I already feel bad about letting you beat up Director Fairchild, electrocute her and inject her with super-concentrated curry powder; not forgetting that you were gonna let one of my colleagues get raped by your dirty and despicable scumbag men that you hired to kidnap everyone. But now that you've gone and killed someone…" Casey shakes her head. "That's it – no more! This ends right now! I am giving you the opportunity for you and your men to get the hell out of MI9, out of London, and out of the UK. I don't give a fuck where you go, so long as stay away from me, my family and my colleagues, and you never set foot in this place again."
Everyone stares at Phillips, waiting to see if he takes up on Casey's proposal.
"Hmmm…" he says thoughtfully. "That seems like a good idea. I've got the money. I could flee to Hawaii… the Caribbean… maybe even Central or South America. I could be chasing after bikinis in a tropical resort or sitting under palm trees and drink things out of coconuts, looking pleased with myself. Ah, the good life." A slight pause. "But the only way I'll be truly happy… will be if I kill everyone here."
"What?!" Casey cries. "No, no, you can't do that! I won't let you!"
"Guard!"
One of the guards takes hold of Casey's wrists and pulls her aside. She struggles and beats on the guards' chest, but the man twists her arm behind her back and yanks on her hair, making her scream in pain.
Phillips nods in satisfaction. "I'll deal with you later, my dear," he tells Casey. Then he turns to us. "As for the rest of you, up against the wall."
Nobody moves. We all stay where we are.
Phillips fires the gun. The bullet slams into the ceiling. "I said now!"
Some of us get to our feet and move to the wall opposite the window. Some of us – mainly me, Oscar, Carrie, Blane and Stark – are forced onto our feet by the guards and we get shoved against the wall.
"Take one last look, Frannie," says Phillips. "This will be the last time you'll be seeing your agents. But don't worry – you'll see them again real soon. When my men are finished with them, I will personally take you out myself." He turns to the guards. "Men, take your positions!"
The guards stand opposite us and aim their guns at us.
"OK, guys, on the count of three, open fire," Phillips tells the men. "One… two… thr–!"
"Self-destruct mechanism activated."
"Huh?" Phillips looks confused – we all are. We look around the room to find out who said that.
"Look!" Casey gasps, staring down at the ground, and all eyes follow her gaze.
My eyes widen. "Jenny?"
There's smoke coming out of my mouth and ears and a shower of yellow sparks appear around her body.
"What the flying fuck is going on?!" Phillips exclaims.
"Warning. Warning. Warning," says Jenny. "This android will self-destruct in five, four, three, two, one…"
Suddenly, Jenny explodes. But the strangest thing has happened. Rather than an explosion killing us all, Jenny explodes… harmlessly – with a shower of confetti.
"Oh, my God," says Casey. "That… was an android?"
"Could someone tell what the actual fuck just happened here?" Phillips asks angrily.
"I'll be glad to," says the masked guard, and suddenly draw out his gun and shoots the armed man holding Casey in the head. Casey breaks free before she falls to the ground with the guard.
Just then, the other two guards in balaclavas draw out their guns and start shooting – but not at us, the hostages… but the other guards! All the guards in the room drop like flies as the three masked guards take them all out.
"You traitors!" Phillips cries. He raises his gun, but the one of the masked guards grabs the Champagne bottle and knocks the weapon out of Phillips' hand, and then whacks the bottle across his face, shattering it. Phillips falls to the floor, clutching his head. His face, hair and suit are drenched in Champagne. We all stare at the masked guards in wonderment.
"Just who the fuck do you pricks think you are?" Phillips snarls. Blood trickles down the side of his head.
The guard pulls up his mask.
The room echoes with screams, hushed whispers and cries of confusion as the face is revealed. Dark brown eyes staring down at Phillips. Ink-coloured hair falling behind the head.
"Surprise," the familiar person tells him.
And there she is, right before my eyes. My Jenny. Really.
She grins at Phillips expression.
"You look as if you've seen a ghost!" she says, and then giggles.
"I don't believe it!" I say. "You're alive."
"Yeah. Right here in the flesh, babe," she says, not taking her eyes off Phillips. "And I'm not the only surprise. Girls?"
The two guards remove their masks… to reveal Rose and Daisy.
"Surprise!" they say.
"Rose! Daisy! You're OK!" Carrie cries.
"Yep! And it's all thanks to Jenny and her incredible plan," says Daisy.
"Plan? What plan? What the fuck is going here? Who the fuck are you? What the fuck is up with the robot?" Phillips quizzes. "Just… what the fuck?"
"First off, I'd prefer if you wouldn't call the CA-1000 a robot – she's an android," Jenny tells him. "And second, my plan was somewhat ingenious. I was gonna surrender to you when the CA-1000 showed up. I was so relieved, I very nearly cried. She told me that Zeke – the person who created her and is currently holidaying in the Caribbean – received my message that I left him when I was on the St Katherine. He called me back on my mobile because I left that behind and he couldn't reach me on my watch-communicator because of the jamming signal, and my esteem colleague, Mr. Lenny Bicknall answered it. He told Zeke the crisis we were having and he immediately got to work. He has sent out an android that is pushing the yacht back to the pier, while he sent two more here. There's Ling – who right now has taken out every armed guard in the building and is currently guarding the vault so greedy little bastards like you don't steal anything from inside – good luck trying to get past her. And of course there's the CA-1000, who really is the spitting image of me. She deactivated the lockdown system and your jamming signal and was able to send a message to an extraction team, who are making their merry way here. Unfortunately, she had to act as collateral damage because I knew you would pull a stunt like this. I activated her self-destruct mechanism and while everyone was startled by the fact she exploded in confetti, my girls and I took out the remaining guards here." Jenny raises her gun. "And now I'm about to take you out."
I know that this isn't the appropriate time, but this is huge turn-on right now. From the way she explained her plan to right now when she's pointing her gun at Phillips.
"Any last words before I knock you out with the Paralyzing Stun Gun, Phillips?" she asks.
He glares furiously at Jenny but suddenly, a smile flickers around his mouth. "You think you have defeated me, but there's one thing you should know about a villain who you think has lost everything: we always have one last trick up our sleeves."
He lifts his arm in front of Jenny and releases thick black smoke from the sleeve that covers the whole room. My eyes stream and my throat clog as I start coughing and choking on the smoke. I can hear everyone doing the same. Just then, I hear the sound of gunshots being fired and glass shattering. I feel so cold, I'm shivering. I cross my arms in front of my chest as the smoke starts to clear up. It's only when the smoke dissipates that I see the glass on the windows have been smashed. I see Jenny standing by the window, gun in hand.
"Is everyone OK?" she asks.
"Y-yeah. I think so," I say, with some nodding in response.
"Hey – where's Phillips?" Casey asks.
We all look around. The door is wide open and where Phillips had been laying there is just an empty space!
"He got away!" says Jenny. She changes into her catsuit and from her utility belt; she tosses two items to Rose. "Use the Laser Lipstick and Swiss Multi-tool to free everyone. I'm going after Phillips!"
"Jen, wait!" I call, but it's too late. She's already bolted out of the room.
"Don't worry, Frank. Jenny can handle herself," Rose tells me. She uses the knife tool to cut my restraints.
I rub my wrists. "Thanks," I say. Rose smiles in response and goes to help another agent out of their cuffs.
I go over to Director Fairchild, who is lying in a state of excruciating pain. Casey is by her side, removing the needles from her.
"I'm so sorry, Ma'am," says Casey, her eyes streaming. "I didn't mean for all this to happen. It's just… Phillips, he was… he…"
"It-it's all right… Agent Adams. I understand," the director whispers as she slips into unconscious. "This wasn't… your fault…"
"We need help over here!" I call. I turn back to Casey. "Don't worry, Casey. Jen's gonna get Phillips and we'll make sure that he never sees the light of day again."
Casey gives a small smile just as Daisy turns up and uses the Laser Lipstick to cut through Director Fairchild's restraints. Once she freed, I scoop the director in my arms and carry her in a bridal carry.
"Let's get out of here," says Casey, and I nod in reply. "Everyone follow me!"
Casey heads out the room and we all follow behind. We dash down the corridor – with me being extra careful not to drop the director – and stop front of a bank of lifts. Casey presses the button and the doors open.
"You get this lot down to ground level," she tells me. "I'll stay here and make sure that everyone gets in the elevator safely and down to the streets outside."
"OK," I say. I step in the lift with the seven other people already inside, and push back as the doors close. I can feel the pressure in my ears as the lifts falls lower and lower.
The lift slows down and the doors open. We step out of the elevator, into the reception area, shoving through the doors and out onto the streets, where a SWAT team is waiting for us. They have their guns pointed at us, but one of the officers sees me carrying Director Fairchild and orders the others to lower their weapons. The officer comes up to us and escorts us to the waiting ambulances parked by the roundabout. I notice that Lambeth Bridge is empty – there are no cars, buses or bikes. SWAT must have closed it off – and the roads surrounding MI9 – to keep the civilians away from danger. The paramedics bring the stretcher to me and I lay Director Fairchild on it.
"I… I'll ride along with her," Stark offers, as the director is being lifted up into the ambulance. He helps himself into the van. Then the ambulance starts and drives away to the hospital.
I watch as more people exit the building and make their way over to the ambulances to get checked over. From the crowd, I see Oscar, Blane, Daisy, Rose and Carrie (without her shoes) running over to me.
"Frank!" Carrie cries, and throws her arms around me, giving me a hug so hard I nearly fall over – but I don't care. The others join in. I wrap my arms around them and squeeze tightly as if I can never ever bear to let them go.
"We're OK," I tell them. "We're gonna be OK."
When we pull away, I notice that Carrie is rubbing her arms to warm herself up. I quickly whip off my jacket and draping it around her shoulders.
"Thanks," she says. She turns and looks to the building. "Do you think Jen will be OK?"
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Oscar replies.
"Yeah – she's got this," says Blane.
"Exactly. Like Rose said, Jen can handle herself," I reassure them.
I hope she can. Before Phillips was captured, he was one of MI9's top fighters – military training. He's quicker and much stronger than her. I just hope Jen can take him down before he ends up killing her – and this time there'll be no android to save her.
(Jenny's POV)
I dash down the long corridor, flying past the guards that Ling knocked out – or possibly killed – with one goal in mind: to take down Casper Phillips. I am not gonna let this rat bastard get away. He is gonna pay for what he has done tonight: kidnapping my friends and colleagues, torturing Director Fairchild, nearly killing Rose, blackmailing his own niece and very nearly opening the vault, triggering the failsafe – luckily Rose managed to deactivated the explosives. But nevertheless I am gonna get Phillips, once and for all.
I head down the hall towards the emergency exit. I shove the door open and fly up the stairs, taking two at a time. It's obvious that Phillips wants to make a quick getaway. A helicopter will be waiting for him and once he's on, he's gone – possibly waiting for another five years to take revenge on MI9. Not on my watch.
After climbing up four flights of stairs, I arrive at the very top floor of MI9. I make a left and head down a short corridor to a half-open door marked HELIPAD. A flight of concrete steps lead up. I climb the steps and reach another door with a push-bar. I press it and go through. I'm outside, ten floors up, on a flat roof with a tall metal fence running around the perimeter. Looking around, I can see right across the city. It had seemed a quiet winter night when I left the St Katherine. But up here the cold wind streaks past and the clouds boils.
I notice a helicopter on the helipad – there's no way Phillips is getting away that easily. I go over to it and slide open the door – but there's no-one in it.
"What?" I murmur, staring in disbelief at the empty cabin. Where the hell is Phillips?
Suddenly, I hear raspy breathing. I spin around – but there's no-one behind me. I narrow my eyes and shift them back and forth. I don't what Phillips' game is with the pervy breathing but one thing's for sure, it doesn't scare me and I'm certainly not gonna fall for any of his crap. Phillips is here somewhere and when I find him, he's gonna wish he didn't mess with MI9 – especially me.
"Ha-ha, Phillips. Very funny – not!" I declare loudly, stepping off the helipad. "You don't scare me! I don't get frightened by cowards that easily! So why don't you come out of the rock your cowering under and face me? Huh? Come on out and fight me like a man – unless you're scared. You don't want you arse kicked by a woman! You'll run back to wherever you came from with your tail between your legs because you want to avoid the humiliation of being beaten by the likes of me! Come on, you chicken! Bok bok b'gawk!"
I'm standing in the middle of the roof, waiting for something to happen. Maybe Phillips will jump out of his hiding place and tackle me to the ground. But there's nothing – all I hear is silence. It may be hustle and bustle down on the streets below, but up here it's an eerie, terrible silence, but silence just the same.
Maybe Phillips isn't here after all. He could've escaped by disguising himself as a hostage and when he got outside, he quietly slipped away. If he has done that, I hope he never shows his ugly mug here again.
I sigh and start to head towards the door – but stop when my very sharp ears hear footsteps. And they're coming towards me! I turn to the direction to where the footsteps are coming from – just in time to see a foot racing towards my face! I form an X with my arms and brace myself, taking the hit. I get knocked back, sli-i-iding backwards on my feet – kicking up dust as I do so – before I tumble over. I quickly regain my composure and get onto my feet, and there standing a few feet away from me is Phillips – standing in a fighting position.
"I have no problem with violence against women – especially slutty bitches like you," he says. "Besides, I've got unfinished business with you. It's time for me to end you – and there's no fancy android around to save you!"
"Bring it on, prick!" I say, getting into a fighting stance.
Phillips takes a running start before leaping into the air and sailing towards me – but I block him with my left arm, and then punch him across the floor with my right. Phillips lands like a cat and glares at me. He runs towards me. I spin kick Phillips in the chin, knocking him back.
"You're quite the opponent, Missy," he says. "But you won't be as good as me!"
He attacks me with spin kicks, but I block them. Phillips punches – I block. Phillips looks annoyed, but he doesn't give in and continues attacking, landing kicks and punches. I evade and counter-attack. Phillips evades, and then land more punches. I jump spin away from danger. We pause, breathing heavily.
"Why don't you just give it up, Phillips?" I say. "In about five minutes, you'll be knocked on your arse and when I come over to you, you'll be weeping and pleading me not to hurt you anymore. So you may as well surrender."
"I'm not surrendering for shit!" he replies. "And I'll think you'll find that it'll be you who would be begging me not to kill you – but I will anyway. So prepare to die!"
He attacks again. We exchange furious blows, until Phillips puts me in a chokehold. I respond by use the heel of my boot and, with all of my strength and body weight, smash down on the top of Phillips' foot, disabling him. He yells in pain, causing him to release me from his grasp, giving me the opportunity to swing my leg around and roundhouse kick him in the face, and then duck down and sweep my leg at his feet, tripping him.
I get back into a fighting stance, flipping my hair out of my face. "How do you like me now?" I say with a cocky grin.
"Grrr! You're gonna pay for that!" Phillips growls. He gets back to his feet via kip-up. He reaches into the inside of his jacket and pulls out a knife. He charges towards me. I fight defensively, redirecting his parries. He takes a swipe at me, but I dodge the attack. He lunges again. I perform a back walkover, kicking the knife out of Phillips' hand. He stares at me, incredulity building to rage.
"You're starting to piss me off now!" he exclaims. He charges with a front punch and tries to take a swipe at me, but I duck – and while I'm there, I throw out a back kick over my own head and nail him in the face. Then I do the back walkover again – kicking him harshly as I do so.
Phillips shakes his head and charges again. I grab him then turn on my back, throwing him over his head. I get to my feet the same that Phillips gets to his. He goes into the other pocket inside his jacket and draws out a gun. He points it at me, but I move quickly and unsheathing the Feline Fight Claws, I catch him across the hand before he had time to pull the trigger. The gun slides across the ground. Phillips immediately responds, throwing two quick punches, which I expertly block and then follow with a hitch-kick to the chin. Then I let forth a typhoon of fury. I come at Phillips with everything I've got – unloading an arsenal of badass Kung-Fu moves that will make Jet Li green with envy. Phillips doesn't stand a chance.
I finish him off with a full roundhouse kick to the face. And then Phillips hits the cement, long and hard.
"I told you… I'll knock you… on your arse," I pant. I'm very much out of breath after all that, but I'm truly glad it's over.
I take out a pair of handcuffs and walk over to the unconscious body. It's only when I kneel beside Phillips that something is… not quite right. The nose looks bend out of shape – and I don't mean it's broken – it looks… squished up, like a pig's snout. Then I notice a bit of loose skin hanging out from his collar. I reluctantly reach for the tug of skin and pull at it. The skin stretches and stretches – until it rips off! I stare in disgust at the piece of tore skin – but my eyes widen when I look down at Phillips to see that his face isn't gushing blood. There's more skin underneath! I stare at the piece of skin in realization – it's a mask! I start to pull at the mask – tearing it off to reveal… a man with fair skin and a light dusting of freckles across his nose. He also has auburn hair and sideburns.
"The hell…?" I gasp, letting the mask drop to the fall. This man here… isn't Phillips. This isn't Casper Phillips! So who the hell have I been fighting? Who is this guy? And more importantly where is Phil–?
An explosion sounds. At first I feel nothing as my adrenaline is pumping. It's only when my body relaxes a bit and I feel something wet running down my back, followed by a crippling pain that I realize the absolute worst has happened – I've been shot.
I've been fucking shot.
I collapse on the floor – I can't move or breathe well at all. I feel like my guts has been ripped apart and pulled out of my body.
I hear the sound of slow, methodical footsteps starting towards me. That son of a bitch! I knew he wouldn't fight me – he knew he would lose. So he got his lackey to dress up as him – latex mask and all – and get him to fight me. And when I realized that that man wasn't who I thought it was, Phillips decided to pull this cheap shot – if you pardon the expression. Still, this makes him the crafty, if not a cowardly, bastard.
"As I said, my dear, we villains always have one last trick up our sleeves," he says oily. He's so close he's almost touching me. Phillips flips me over, and I have to bite my lower lip to stop myself from screaming because the pain is excruciating. He's leaning over me, still holding the gun that shot me.
"I'm sorry we couldn't actually spar," he continues. "But I couldn't let the pretty girls see my bruised and battered face when I arrive in Hawaii this time tomorrow."
I don't say a word. I'm in too much pain.
"You know," Phillips brushes a strand of hair from my face, "you and I would have made such an incredible team. Me, with my wit, charm and intelligence, and you, with your beauty, your talents… your sex – we could have been unstoppable. But since you're working with these losers, I had no choice but to shoot you. And I know what you're thinking – I took the coward's way out. But to me, I like to see myself as something who took the easy way out. You see, to be top agent in MI9, you have to be sneaky – which is what I am. It is such a shame that I shot you, though. The things I could have done with you – I could've taken you to heaven and back. Ah well, maybe in another lifetime."
I clench my fists and stare straight at Phillips. He's got these really cold green eyes that you can't miss. I focus on them. Staring him out.
"But for now, in this lifetime – for me anyway – I'm gonna hop on my helicopter and get away from this depressing dump. But I'll be back – maybe in five months or five years even. Either way, you're not gonna be here to stop me – boo-hoo. Anyway, I can't stand here all night enjoying the sight of watching you die a slow and lingering death; I've got bikinis and hula girls to chase. As the kids from The Sound of Music sang: 'So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight; I hate to go and leave this pretty sight'!"
Phillips turns and starts to walk away from me, humming the rest of the song. So here I am, lying on the roof of MI9's headquarters, next to an unconscious man, and staring up at the night sky, with Phillips thinking that I'm dying or dead. What Phillips doesn't know is that underneath my catsuit… are squibs. Fake blood used to simulate gunshot wounds – they're used in movies and TV. I had a feeling Phillips would pull a stunt like this so back in the office when he escaped and I changed into my catsuit, I changed into one that has small plastic sacs filled with a liquid that looks like blood fitted inside the material – to produce what supposedly looks like a 'real' wound if I was shot. And as much as I appreciated the blood bag saving my life, it hurts like hell when they explode. It's like getting hit with a paintball – that's gonna leave a big, blue bruise.
I hear the door to the helicopter slide open, Phillips clambering into the aircraft and then the door sliding shut again. The helicopter's powerful turbines fire up – a high-pitched whine that rises and rises as the rotors begin to turn. As I remembered right, it takes about a minute before a helicopter's engines are fully up to speed so that it can lift off. This is going to be a long minute, but like Lenny said, sixty seconds is how long we need.
Slowly, slowly, I sit up – I hope Phillips can't see me. I climb gingerly to my feet and slip silently to the fence, keeping close to it so Phillips can't spot me. Keeping low, I move swiftly towards the helicopter, like a cat.
I'm still some distance away when the helicopter starts to rise into the air. I'm not gonna reach it in time. There's no way I'm gonna let this scar-faced dick get away. I need to stop him – a gadget or something.
And then I remember the Mini Bombs. I skid to a halt and go into the pocket of my utility belt, taking out the four small, spherical balls. I've only got one shot – I've got to make it count. I start running again as the helicopter hovers into the air. As I draw closer to the helicopter I can almost see Phillips turning his head and spotting me. I can imagine the look of horror on his face when he sees that I'm alive. He starts to turn the helicopter, ready to take me out – not if I take him out first.
I close my eyes and I pray silently. Please God, let me make this shot. Let me make this shot!
"AAAH!" I yell, throwing the Mini Bombs. They hurtle through the air… and strike the tail rotor.
There's an explosion – a flaming and wrecked tail and grey smoke billowing as the aircraft lurches, spinning wildly as if it's about to fall out of the sky. And it is! The helicopter is heading straight for the helipad – straight towards me! – howling through the sky. That's my cue to get the hell out of here.
I turn and run.
"Shit-shit-shit-shit-shi-i-i-i-i-it!" I scream as I sprint across the roof.
I hear the engines whine. I don't dare glance back in case the burning aircraft is closing in, so I force my legs to move – one running step after another. I can imagine Phillips fighting for control, trying to pull the helicopter up. But it's much too late – as soon as I reach the door, I hear the helicopter smash into the roof and explodes. I feel the hammer-blow force of the explosion hit my back as soon as I'm through the door. I lose my balance and tumble down the stairs, and blacking out when I land painfully at the bottom.
xxoOoxx
Oww. How long have I been asleep? Five minutes? Half an hour, maybe? It's kind of hard to tell.
For a moment I just lie still. I feel so rough. My head is pounding with a rhythmic pain, like some sort of massive concrete-breaker. My mouth is parched and my skin feels like sandpaper. This is the most monster hangover, ever.
I try to open my eyes but it's so difficult. My eyelids are so heavy. I try and try, again and again, struggling to move them and wake up. Finally I'm able to open them…
There's severe pain that's starting to spread all over my body. I'm aching all over. My knees are throbbing from falling down the stairs – one feels scraped and bloody. My skin is probably mottled with deep bruises. My neck is stiff. And there's blood trickling down my eye. I feel my head to see if there are any bumps. There are none, but the cut on my forehead feels deep and scary. My hand hurts as I lifted it, pain tweaking up to my elbow.
I struggle to sit up. My hand is starting to hurt so much I can't even squeeze my fingers. I try again. I groan with the pain as I slowly sit up. I take a minute to compose myself. My head is splitting and kind of foggy. I take a deep breath and I very, very carefully start to stand up, wincing in pain as I do so. Once I'm up, I clutch at my ribs and stumble out of the staircase and hobble to the elevator.
The walk is long but I finally make it to the lifts. One of them is waiting. I get in and press the button for the ground floor.
The elevator is hot and stuffy and I'm dizzy as it goes down I feel like I'm going to faint…
No! You've got to keep it together – just until your outside and in an ambulance, with Frank by your side. Oh God, Frank. I almost forgot about him. He's probably crying and screaming in anguish because he thinks I died on the roof. But I'm not dead, Frank. I'm alive and well, and when you see me coming out of the building, you're gonna run into my arms – or at least one of my good arms – and you're gonna hug me and kiss me and tell me how much you love me. You'll see, Frank. You'll see.
The minute the doors open, I shuffle out of the lift and limp across the reception area. I use my back to push the door open. The fresh air greets my face as I step outside and descend down the steps, but everything looks weird. The trees and building and people lurches sideways. What is going on?
I hear someone call my name, but they seem so far away. I feel so dizzy. The trees and people whirls round and round, the buildings closing in on me. All of a sudden, I find myself falling and a wave of blackness engulfing me.
(Frank's POV)
I can't breathe.
Ican'tbreatheIcan'tbreatheIcan'tbreathe.
I feel like that time has stopped and everything around me is collapsing. And it has. Jenny – she… she's gone. She's dead.
At first I thought she die when she got shot because we all heard a gun being fired. I tried to go back into the building but Blane and Oscar held me back. It was only when the tail rotor of a helicopter exploded that I knew Jen was still alive – only for the aircraft to come crashing down on the roof and… When that happened, everyone was too shocked to do anything. After a few seconds, people started, screaming and crying and shouting. But for me, I couldn't do anything. I just stood there, watching the helicopter explode in a ball of flame. I thought Jenny might have escaped before the helicopter crashed, but after ten minutes of waiting… it seems that while she tried to escaped, she must have got caught up in the explosion and… perished.
So here I am – standing still, swaying, not really knowing what to do.
Jenny is gone. My lovely Jenny… is dead.
I still can't take it in.
I feel sick and heartbroken. I can't bear the idea of a future without her. I'm nothing without her. If only there was a way to bring her back – even if it was for five minutes. I just want to see her smile one last time…
"Frank!" Carrie suddenly comes rushing over. "Frank, a miracle has happened. Jenny's alive!"
I immediately snap out of my trance. "What?!"
"Look!"
She points over to the MI9 building. I peer through, wondering if it's some sort of joke.
But it's not a joke.
It is Jenny.
I rub my eyes to make sure I'm not dreaming. It's not a dream! Jenny really is alive!
"Jenny!" I cry, and I set off towards her. Tears are pouring down my face. I'm so relieved she's all right.
But as I get nearer, I notice that Jenny's not all right. She looks weak and disorientated. She's swaying back and forth like she's about to faint – and she is!
"Jen!" I scream as her legs buckle and she tumbles forward.
I run to catch her, my arms out.
Then she falls on me, her face in my chest, and I wrap my arms around her.
"It's all right, sweetheart. I've got you," I tell her. I carefully lay her on the ground and put her in the recovery position as Rose rushes up to us.
"Is she OK?" she asks, kneeling down beside Jenny.
"I-I'm not sure," I say. I press two fingers on the inside of her wrist and check her breathing. "Her pulse is quite weak, but she's breathing." I notice Rose staring at Jenny's back. "Rose?"
"Frank… she's being shot."
I peer over Jenny's side. There's a bullet hole in the middle of her back.
"Oh, my God! No! No…" I whisper, and I'm crying, tears spilling down my cheeks as Rose call for the paramedics. "Jenny, please be all right. You've got to be OK. Promise me you'll get better. I'll look after you. I just want you to be all right, Jen. You won't die, will you? You can't leave me on my own. I love you, Jen. I love you so much."
The paramedics are here and someone is helping me up, though I don't want to move. I have to stay with Jenny.
They're moving her, sliding her onto a stretcher and wheeling her to the ambulance.
"Frank – go with her," says Rose. I turn to her. "Go. The others and I will follow."
I just nod my head and run towards the ambulance that the paramedics are lifting Jenny into. I can't think, I can't talk, I can only say one word.
"Jenny!"
"We need to take her to hospital and check her over. You'll have to talk to her later," says the female paramedic, and helps me up beside Jenny in the van. Her colleague is examining Jenny, listening, looking, checking her pulse rate.
"You're Jenny's friend?" she says, barely looking up. "What's your name?"
"Frank. And I'm her fiancé."
"We're doing our best for her, Frank," she says, as the ambulance starts.
"Is she going to be all right? She's not going to die, is she?"
"I'm sure she'll be right as rain in no time. You look a bit groggy yourself and there's that cut on your cheek. We need to check you, too. But for now, we'll see to your fiancée."
I clasp Jenny's hand tight as the paramedics carry on checking her while the ambulance hurtles forward.
Oh Jenny. Please be all right. I feel so lost and lonely without you. I need you by my side. Please please please get better!
xxoOoxx
It's been over two hours since Jenny was admitted into A&E. I talked to her all the way to the hospital, holding her hand, but I had to let go when we arrived outside Casualty. I ran along beside her until she was suddenly wheeled right away from me by an urgent medical team.
I was taken away by a nurse who cleaned up the cut on my face and gave me six stitches. By the time I was finished, the MI High team, along with Blane and Daisy have arrived having being dropped off by a member of SWAT. Daisy took Blane to get himself cleaned up, while Rose, Carrie and Oscar gathered around me and we all hugged. Another ten minutes went by before Lenny showed up, again being dropped off by a SWAT person. Rose explained what has happened as I was too tired and worried at the same time to do so. After a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from Lenny and the return of Blane and Daisy, the seven of us go into the waiting room while the doctors work on Jenny.
So here we are. Almost two hours later, in the bleak orange waiting room, wondering exactly what the doctors and nurses are doing to Jenny. I shift around in my chair, not talking to anyone. I'm too dazed by the whole situation. I shut my eyes as if I'm trying to blot it out. But I can't. I think, Jenny Jenny Jenny. I keep thinking about how tired and exhausted she looked, when she collapsed into my arms… that bullet hole in her back. Oh God – what if she…
No. You can't think like that. Jenny is not going to die. She is the most alive person I've ever known. She will get completely better and we'll talk about this time with a shudder.
I'm awakened by a hand on my shoulder. I turn, startled to see Lenny sitting next to me, with a sympathetic smile on his face.
"Lenny."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I noticed that you were shivering."
"Oh." I hunch down lower on my plastic chair, sweeping a hand back through my hair and sighing.
"She's going to be OK, Frank. I've only met her tonight, but I know Jenny will pull through. She's a fierce fighter. She's gonna pull through, and you two will get married, have children, grow old and be together forever."
I smile gratefully at Lenny. I'm almost starting to feel better. Then a woman in a white coat enters the room.
"Mr. London?"
I stand up. "That's me," I say.
"I'm Dr Nathan. We've just finished treating your fiancée."
I go up to her. "How is she, doctor? Is she all right?"
"Miss Brownstone will be just fine. She's just exhausted after the night she had. She also has a sprained wrist, four cracked ribs and a cut to the knee and head, as well as bruises. Other than that, she's fine."
"What?" Rose is by my side. "But-but-but… she was shot – in the back!"
"Ah yes, about that. It seems that when we undressed her to attend to the wound… we found that there wasn't one."
"Excuse me?" Now I'm really confused.
"It was only when we opened up her catsuit that we found squibs in the material."
"Squibs?" Daisy says. "What is that?"
"They're devices coupled with small balloons filled with fake blood and often other materials to simulate bullet hits," Blane explains. "They were once used on actors in TV, film and live theatrics. But such use has been largely phased out in favour of more advanced devices that are safer for the actor, such as miniature compressed gas packs."
"Jenny must have known that Phillips was going to shoot her," says Oscar. "So she fitted the squibs in the catsuit."
"So when Phillips did shoot her, he thinks that he killed her," says Carrie. "And once his back was turned, Jenny finished him off once and for all."
"Wow. She really is full of surprises, isn't she?" says Lenny.
Everyone murmurs in agreement. But I'm too stunned to say anything. I'm so weak with relief I have to lean against the wall. Jenny's OK. She's going to be OK. She's going to get better and we'd all go back to normal, Jen and me at home, while saving the world on the side.
"Can I, um, can I see her?" I ask Dr Nathan.
"I'm afraid she's asleep at the moment…" she says.
"Please, doctor. It will only be for a few minutes," Lenny tells her. "He just wants to see that she's OK."
Dr Nathan doesn't wait to argue it out, she just steers me out of the waiting area and onwards, to the end of the ward, to a special room.
I peer round the door and see her nurse besides her checking her pulse rate and heartbeat. Jenny is lying on her back, eyes closed; her hair tousled on the pillow with about ten stitches sticking out of her forehead, her right wrist is bandaged up and in a sling and her other hand lying gently curled on the covers.
The nurse spots me and makes it her cue to leave.
"I'll give you a moment," says Dr Nathan, and she walks off, leaving me alone with Jenny.
"Jenny – oh Jenny," I say, rushing over to her. Tears are welling up in my eyes. I can't stand seeing her like this – looking all pale, battered and bruised and bandaged up like mummy. I take a seat beside her bed.
"Hi, Jen. It's me – Frank," I say, taking her free hand. "You gave me quite a fright tonight. The first time, when Phillips shot you – and it turned out to be the Cat Android 1000. The second time, when he shot you again – and I just found out that you had squibs underneath your catsuit. And then the third time… the third time, when the helicopter came crashing on the roof… My whole world shattered around me. I thought you'd died. I don't know what I'll ever do without you. I can't exist without you. You're my best friend, my soul-mate, my smile, my laugh, my everything. Oh Jenny… I love you."
I bow my head forward and start crying. Tears are dripping down my face.
"And I love you too."
I head suddenly jerks and I see Jenny's eyelids flicker – and then very slowly, as if her lids are very heavy, she opens her eyes.
"Jenny," I whisper. "It's me, Frank."
She looks at me blearily – and smiles.
"Hi, baby," she mumbles.
"Hi, love," I respond with a smile. I wipe clumsily at my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. "How are you?"
"Terrible. And sore. Like I've done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. What about you? You've got that cut…"
"Nothing for you to worry about, darling. I'm fine. Right now, let's concrete on you getting better so I can take you home in time for Christmas."
"OK," she says hoarsely, nodding. "Is… is there water?"
I pour a glass of water, but since she's in no condition to move, I pop in a straw. "Here you go." I help slide the straw between her lips. I watch while she takes a sip and the steady stream of fluid flows down her throat. She pulls her head back to indicate that she's finished sipping. I pull the drink away and place the glass on the desk next to her bed.
"Thanks," Jenny says. After a slight pause she says, "I'm sorry I scared you into thinking I was dead. I-I didn't mean it."
"Ssh, ssh, it's OK. I know you didn't mean to scare me. You were just doing your job. I mean that's what being a secret agent is about – risking your life for others. Besides, you had some pretty neat tricks up your sleeves, didn't you? The doctor told me about the squibs."
"Hmm. I had a feeling that sneaky bastard Phillips will pull something like that, so when I changed into my catsuit, I changed into one that had squibs underneath."
"You truly are full of surprises, aren't you?"
Jenny smiles in response. Then she asks, "How is Director Fairchild?"
"She's gonna be fine. Stark said that the doctors extracted all the curry powder out of her and they'll be keeping watch of her over the next week."
"And Casey?"
"She's fine, too. We know that she didn't want to work for Phillips – she was blackmailed into it by him."
"Well, she doesn't have to worry about him anymore – none of us do. As of now, he's burning in hell, where he belongs. Anyway, how are the team? Are they OK?"
"They're tired, but otherwise OK. Blane and Daisy are also fine."
"Cool." Suddenly a smile lights up her entire face. "I just suddenly remembered – you owe me £50. I managed to get Blane and Daisy together before midnight."
"Really?"
Jenny nods. "There's evidence of them kissing on my watch-communicator, and it was taken minutes before midnight. That means I win the bet, and you have to be my slave for the week. Although, you really don't have much of a choice, do you?"
I kiss the back of her hand. "I wouldn't care if I was your slave for one hundred years; I would be very glad to serve you and protect you… and love you."
Jenny's eyes are brimming with tears.
"Awww!"
Jenny and I jump and turn to the door, where Carrie, Rose, Daisy, Oscar, Blane and Lenny are crowding at.
"You two are so cute together – even if one of you is lying in a hospital bed," says Carrie.
"Hey, guys," says Jenny. "What are you doing standing out there for? Come in."
Lenny and the team enter the room and gather round the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Lenny asks, beaming at Jenny.
"Bruised and aching, but other than that, I'm great," she says. "How are you guys?"
"We're doing all right, thanks to you – and Rose and Blane and Daisy," says Oscar.
"Yeah – if it wasn't for you guys, we would have been… The point is we are forever grateful and we owe you a debt of gratitude," says Carrie.
"I'm sure that once Director Fairchild is fully recovered, she'll present the four of you a MI9 Medal of Honour for bravery," says Lenny. "You not only saved the lives of the agents that were kidnapped, you stopped a former operative from breaking into the vault and stealing the most dangerous weapons stored inside, and deactivated the C-4 failsafe. If that doesn't get you a medal, then I don't know what will. The four of you deserve it."
"Thanks, Lenny," says Rose. Then she turns to Jenny. "And thank you, Jen, for not giving up even though the odds were against us."
"Yeah – if you hadn't come up with those brilliant plans and ideas in stopping Phillips, he would have disappeared into the night with MI9's high-risk weapons," Daisy chimes in.
"Plus you had faith in us stopping Phillips and his men when the adult agents had doubt in us," Blane adds. Then he puts his arm around Daisy. "And you got me to confess my feelings to Daisy, for which I was rewarded with a kiss. So we have you to thank on that – and of course for believing in us in stopping the bad guy and saving MI9. Thanks, Jen."
"Thank you, Jen," the others say.
"You're welcome," she says.
"Wow – quite the party in here!" says Doctor Nathan, entering the room. "And I'm sure Miss Brownstone would like you to stay here all night, but I'm afraid she needs her sleep – as do all of you. So, chop chop – out you all go."
Everyone says their goodnights to Jenny and leave the room. I stand up and I'm about to walk out when Jenny tugs my arm.
"Please don't go," she says. "I don't want to be alone."
I turn to Doctor Nathan who nods her head, and then she takes her leave.
I sit back down and hold Jenny's hand. "It's OK, Jen. I'm here – I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank you," she replies.
"I'm really glad that you're all right. I don't know what I would do without you. You mean everything to me and I just can't live without you."
"Neither can I," Jenny smiles.
"You better get some sleep," I tell her.
"OK." Jenny closes her eyes. Then she says, "Could you do me a favour, Frank? Could you sing to me? I feel I could sleep better with you singing – and I know you have a nice singing voice."
I don't really have a nice singing voice and I can't sing all that well, but I nod. "Sure." I rack my brain about what song I can sing. After a few seconds I come up with the perfect one – Nat King Cole's 'Unforgettable'. It's me and Jenny's favourite song. I take a deep breath and start: "Unforgettable; that's what you are…"
I imagine that it's only me and Jenny in the entire hospital. I sing softly to her while she lies peacefully in her bed.
By the time I've finished, Jenny is sound asleep. She looks so cute and peaceful. A soft, tender smile passes over my face, and I stroke her hair affectionately. Then I lean forward and gently kiss her forehead. "Sleep tight, Jen," I whisper.
When I sit back in my chair, I let out a yawn. I look at my watch. It's just after two-thirty in the morning. Gosh, what a night. What started out as a Christmas party on a luxury boat has ended with my boss and my girlfriend lying in a hospital bed – and they were put there by some madman hellbent on getting revenge on everyone because he blamed them rather than himself for getting caught. I just hope that in due time everyone can put this terrible event behind them.
I feel my eyelids getting heavy. I get into a comfortable position in my chair and place my head next to Jenny's on the pillow – our foreheads touching. Then I close my eyes and drift off to sleep, with my hand still clasped with Jenny's.
A/N: What a nice ending. Well, folks, I hope you enjoyed that five-part saga that I've entitled 'Black Christmas'. It took over six weeks to complete, with a staggering 46,793 words typed up (not including what I'm typing up). Anyway, I hope you stay tuned with Jenny, Frank and the rest of the gang as they embark on more adventures in MI High's The Cat and the Agent. See you soon. XOXO
PS: Virtual cookie for all reviewers!