Young Offender, Part 21:
Albert sipped a rich, black espresso as he watched Francoise, Jet, and Giuseppe Kaminari eat their porridge. He could hear birds singing outside in the trees a few feet away from the house.
"How much longer? He's been at it all night," Jet grumbled.
"Do you want him to rush?" Kaminari snapped.
"No, but dang! I want to get out of here. We've been cooped up for two weeks, now. I want to get our of here before..."
"Jet," Albert snapped. He had tried to be patient with the older teenaged boy, but Jet was getting more disquieted as the days stretched on. It only wore on Albert's own frazzled nerves. Francoise, on the other hand, had withdrawn and had barely eaten lately, which worried Albert, but he had no idea how to approach her without invading her privacy too much.
A creak on the stairs towards the kitchen interrupted Albert's thoughts. It was Ivan with Doctor Kozumi; the doctor put his hand on Ivan's shoulder and continued to guide him to the table. Ivan was drained and shaky.
"I thought you'd still be asleep," Francoise said softly, almost absently.
"Kozumi helped me out because this is an extraordinary circumstance. I only have two hours. We need to make some decisions rather quickly." Ivan sat at the table next to Kozumi.
"Okay, so I have some questions. Have you been in touch with Gilmore?" Albert asked.
"No. I do intend to monitor the Black Ghost through him while I sleep this next time." Albert didn't miss the weary slump in Ivan's shoulders or the dark circles under his heterochromatic eyes.
Albert also didn't miss Francoise reaching for Ivan's hand resting on the rough-wood table, but he flinched away. Kozumi gave a brief cough and said, "I predict Gamo-kun will need about eight more days of rest."
"Then tell us what you know, Ivan, in case we need to move quickly while you're sleeping," Albert prodded.
"I do know that they are very upset with the assassins. I think they went rogue for their own reasons. Now, I doubt life will continue for them much longer. I've seen..." Ivan suddenly clenched his eyes shut and violently shook his head. "I'm sure they're dead by now."
"We need to figure out what's going on, and if they can still have others pursue us," Albert said. Ivan nodded.
"We don't need to stay in one place for a long time," Jet added. "It's too dangerous. That's obvious." He turned to Ivan and asked, "Can you come up with a list of all the assholes in the Merchants of Death and the Black Ghost? I mean... I want where they live, eat, and shit."
"Give me a while submerged in Gilmore's consciousness. I'll get it for you, and I think I know where you're going with this idea."
Jet smirked and waved his hand in the air. "Thought you could read my mind any time," he mocked.
Ivan shook his head. "Not now. I'm fighting just to stay awake. I can't use any of my abilities currenly. Even my new one."
"New one?" Francoise asked. Albert felt the same sense of trepidation he saw in her aqua-colored eyes.
"How do you think that plane caught fire?" His answer was in a flat, cold tone.
Jet asked, "So, you can set fires with your mind?"
Francoise and Jet exchanged nervous expressions after Ivan nodded. He said, "Back to what we need to discuss. Jet, I believe you want to strike them first, before they can pursue us again. Am I correct?"
"Yes, it's what you've been preaching over the last year. You know..." Jet slammed his fist on the table and glared. "I finally made something of myself! I did something I could be proud of, and they took it away! It wasn't enough to take my body and twist it, but then they won't even let me have my own say-so over my life! They need to learn what it's like to live in some fear." Jet shrugged and frowned. "I'm not talking about doing something evil, but I am saying they owe us a living."
"Say it plainly, Jet." Albert leaned forward, scrutinizing him.
"I'm saying we find out where some of these mother fuckers live and then we hit their houses for what we can. These guys have to be rich. We take what we can and stay on the move."
"Now I know they've driven you crazy." Francoise's voice was low and icy, full of bitter spite. "You have a death wish, and I don't want you around us when they come after you."
"What do you suggest?"
"Not antagonizing them!"
"Stop fighting," Albert said with a heavy sigh. "You do have a point. I don't think we can ever hide from them. It would be pointless."
"But, Albert..." Francoise's shrewish voice grated on him as much as Jet's willingness to fall into turpitude. He glared at her.
"It'd be nice if we lived in an ideal world. You'd be on stage and a ballerina, if it were. Jet is right. We need to find a way to make a living..."
"Told ya'," Jet gloated.
Albert fixed him with a glare next, "...but we must find a way where we can all look ourselves in the mirror the following morning. These men in the Black Ghost and the Merchants of Death may be married men. Their women and children are more than likely to be innocent. I refuse to be a party to harming anyone's family or the private property that provides for the families of these men."
Just as Jet's mouth opened, Ivan shook his head and bolted out of his chair. He said, "That's where my idea will come in as a useful compromise. Rather than being petty break-in artists, we need to locate items the Black Ghost craves, along with monies being funneled to them from legitimate businesses to their illicit research. These things will provide for us a lot more and harm them in effective ways."
"Now that's more like it," Jet said with a broad smile.
"I'm still not sure, but I will think about it," Albert said.
"That's all I ask," Ivan replied. "When I sleep, I'll scout for a likely target."
Francoise stood up and shook her head. She turned slowly and walked out of the kitchen.
"Whatever," Jet mumbled and crossed his arms.
"I'll talk with her," Albert assured Jet in a whisper, "but don't antagonize her. She'll just dig her heels in."
Jet nodded, and then they finished their breakfast as Ivan went back upstairs with Kozumi.
"So, my dear, what did he do to them?" Fyodr asked his wife after the amethyst glow faded from her eyes. She lowered her hand from the forehead of the twin on the left operating table. They both were staring at the ceiling, while they twitched and drooled.
She turned with a grim face that slowly turned into a proud smile. "Our son's talent has surpassed our expectations."
"What did he do to the twins?"
"As you know, they have a strong telepathic connection with each other. Not useful for espionage or any real missions because they can't use it on others. I guess it is useful for body-guarding," she said with heavy scorn. "Anyway, they were born with this connection and haven't known anything else. Ivan severed their telepathic link. It would be far crueler than taking a knife and carving out their eyes. They know what they had, and their minds keep trying to reestablish it, however, he's locked their minds into endless loops of isolation."
Fyodr Gamo smiled slowly. "Incredible. Can you fix them?"
She gave a slight frown. "I must admit, Ivan's talent is beyond what I've seen. Maybe my sister, Katharina, but..."
"...she's been two decades in an insane asylum," Fyodr finished in minor annoyance. "I know, Erika, I know. I fear Ivan will succumb to her fate if we don't find him soon and correct him."
They turned when the door opened. The Jewish doctor stepped in and nodded; Fyodr glared at Issac Gilmore. He hadn't trusted him since he showed up after the escape of the Double Zero Cyborgs.
"Scar is ready for your report, Mrs Gamo," Gilmore said, a frown crossed his face.
"Good! I want the chance to confront that incompetent woman!" Erika snapped. They followed Gilmore down the hallway. Fyodr kept glancing at Gilmore's intense expression. The younger scientist had been more secretive about his work and had been seen in parts of the complex he really wasn't associated with.
Then again, Uranus and Gaea had been lurking about as well; he didn't trust the pair of Greek scientists any more than Gilmore. Fyodr made a mental note to ask Erika to spy on the trio as they entered Scar's throne room.
He wasn't surprised to see Manma Yana, Jager Ember, and the redheaded oaf all standing there in handcuffs. He knew it was a joke to have the oaf cuffed. The giant teenager had a very minor telekinesis that helped increase his agility, speed, and strength, however he couldn't affect objects around him like Ivan or Erika.
Fyodr was surprised, however, to see Count Noboru Yana here. The man had been assigned to a station at Antarctica, some research with artificial intelligence, but Fyodr heard rumors that it was all a lie. The Japanese man leaned on a walking cane with a blank expression. He smoothed his mustache, while staring at his shoes.
It hit Fyodr how serious the situation was when he saw the young mother with her five-year-old daughter clinging to her neck. The woman was trembling in the corner as the girl sobbed subtly. Fyodr knew, more than likely, they wouldn't walk out of this room alive.
/Darling, I'm so angry at losing Ivan. I want them to pay/
/So do I, Erika. Do as you wish; I'll support you./ He concentrated carefully, being a non-physic, but he knew Erika could read his mind with ease.
/With what happened to those twins, I'd say our son finally has inherited something from you. Your sadistic side is showing./
He glanced at Erika's glowing, purple eyes and smirked, stroking his thick, black beard. /So is yours./
"Gamos! Report!" Scar tossed back a corner of his cape and turned his eerie, masked face towards them. They both gave a slight bow, but it was Erika who approached.
"It would seem 001 has destroyed the twins' telepathic link. There is no fixing it. They are no longer of any use to you, Lord Scar," Erika informed.
"So, Countess, it would seem you've also cost me two agents as well as the Double Zero Cyborgs. My instructions were to observe, not engage! Now they're lost. I warned you what the penalty would be."
"Wait, Lord Scar! We saw an opportunity to regain them for you," Yana said rapidly, her breathing irregular.
"You lie," Erika said. She turned to Scar. "She and Ember were planning on keeping the cyborgs for themselves, so they could gain leverage over you. He was complicit, as well. For that, I ask a favor."
"Make it quick," Scar said. Erika walked over to Ember's young wife and pried the little girl from her.
"No! Please, no! Ann!" A guard grabbed the young mother and restrained her before she could take her daughter back from Erika's arms. The girl was screaming and thrashing now as Erika walked over to Jager Ember and glared up at the sharpshooter.
"You lost my son, now you lose your daughter," Erika said. She then swirled and left the room. Gamo smiled after his wife; she was certainly a cruel woman he had learned never to cross.
A muffled gunshot startled Fyodr; the woman's sobbing was no more. Fyodr glanced over to confirm that Scar had shot Ember's wife in the head. He then glanced at Ember; utter grief crossed his face, tears were streaming down his cheeks. The sharpshooter wisely said nothing.
"Please, Noboru, I made a mistake. I can fix this. I can find them again." Manma Yana's face was controlled on the surface, but her eyes were desperate. The Count walked over to his wife and finally met her eyes.
"You've betrayed everything I've worked for."
"I did it for you... for us! I did it so I could build our dream house. One where you can make your dreams a reality."
"My dream is building the Black Ghost into something noble that saves humanity from itself. I am loyal to them, unlike you. If you aren't loyal to them, then you have no loyalty to me," the Japanese scientist said before he turned and left Scar's throne room.
"Noboru! Noboru! Don't leave me! I am loyal to you! I did everything for you! It was all for you!" Scar stopped Yana's raging with a strong backhand to her face.
"Kill us then," Yana said low, now in despair as blood blossomed on her bottom lip.
"This won't be quick, like death. Your punishment will be legendary." Scar turned to Gamo and said to him, "Take all five and put them in cryogenic sleep. They can dwell on their mistake for the next twenty years as their bodies atrophy!"
Gamo smiled and bowed slightly, "It'll be as you wish."
Gamo turned and was startled to see Gilmore perched behind him, a shrewed look in those blue eyes. "Why don't I help you, Fyodr?"
"I appreciate it," he said. Soon they had the five assassins under sedation and strapped down on operating tables. He was very intent on preparing the plastic tubes of chemicals; one of the tops wouldn't tear easily. He jerked around at the sound of a slight, metallic scrape.
Gilmore stood holding a scalpel, his eyes were unfocused. Gamo flinched back slightly and snapped, "Isaac?! What the hell are you doing?"
Gilmore paused and looked at the scalpel. The younger scientist took a deep breath, looking a little chagrined. "Umm... you need some help with that?"
"Yes, thank you," he answered, handing over the plastic tube.
Gilmore gave him a stiff smile and said, "You're very welcome."
To be continued.