Young Offender, Part 46:
Leaving Korea was easier than Albert had thought it would be. They traveled in relative silence back to Paris on an American cargo plan. Albert noticed Jean-Paul and Francoise both seemed exhausted and dozed, mostly. Because he was wounded, Jean-Paul was allowed some leave.
Jet, on the other hand, kept to himself, staring out a small round window. Albert didn't miss the anxious way Jet twirled his lighter between his fingers, nor the furrowed brow and hostility conveyed by his body language. The only glances Jet granted didn't invite conversation, so Albert kept to himself.
When they arrived in Paris, Jean-Paul tugged Francoise aside and Albert took the hint when Jean-Paul asked for privacy. Jet followed him over to a bench beside the landing strip. Minutes later, Albert glanced over and asked, "Are you still leaving for New York?"
"What's it to you?"
"Are you going to come back? At least come to Sicily and say good bye to the doctors and see how Ivan is doing."
"Yeah. I want to see how the kid is doing."
Albert kept his irritation in check. After all, Jet was an adult and could do as he wished. He was used to thinking of Jet being an overgrown child too often, underestimating him on a lot of levels. Jet undoubtedly felt stifled, he hadn't been given a chance to finish settling into being an adult. Then again, Albert thought darkly, Jet had been through so much that forced him to mature quicker than he probably would have.
"Jet, I don't know what's going on with you now, or what you're thinking, but be careful."
"Oh, so now you're sending me off with your blessings," Jet spat out bitterly.
"No, because you don't need my permission, you're a grown up. But as your friend, you have my concern."
Jet's face flushed and he looked down at his feet. Suddenly, he chuckled, catching Albert's curiosity. Jet nodded towards Francoise and Jean-Paul a distance down the landing strip. "He ain't coming to Sicily with us. I can tell."
Albert quirked his eyebrow and sighed, know Jet would be right. Francoise's hands covered her face and her shoulders were quivering. "No, but she'll be alright now, better than the last time she had to bid him farewell. And I think he'll be fine, too."
Francoise felt Jean-Paul pat her shoulders; his expression was grim. She covered her face with her hands, she didn't want to hear what he had to say after their long trip. "Please... please..."
"Francoise, come now. Listen and be sensible. You know I can't continue on with you, and you need to stop trying to find me."
"But, Jean-Paul, please..."
He embraced her briefly, firmly, and then held her at arms length, gripping her shoulders. He pressed his lips together so tight they blanched. "It's not the end. We will see each other again."
"But why not come with us? You'll be in danger. We can protect you."
"Because I realized that the Black Ghost will use me to get to you. I refuse to let that happen. For now, we have to stay separate and work at exposing them. Once that's done, I can find you. Then you can get your life back. That's what I want, very much."
All she could do was nod; she knew he was right. The thought of Jean-Paul being at the Black Ghost's mercy was more than she could stand. Not to mention, she owed it to her three male companions to keep herself free of any type of emotional manipulation the Black Ghost could employ. A sadness settled into the pit of her stomach, but she was at peace with what Jean-Paul said.
He tilted his head briefly towards Albert and Jet standing off in the distance and said, "Stick close to them."
"I've grown close to them. I couldn't imaging living on my own right now. And you..." Francoise said gripping his hand tightly, "...take good care of yourself."
He smiled warmly at her. "You hold on to my pocket watch. I want it back one day." He slid his arm over her shoulders and walked her over to where Albert and Jet stood.
"Home again," Albert said dryly, opening the door to the Sicilian safe house. Jet just shot him a dirty look, as was becoming habitual for the New Yorker. Francoise, on the other hand, gave him a smile in spite of her exhaustion.
"004?" Gilmore called from upstairs.
Albert turned towards the stairs and called up, "We're all here. We found Jean-Paul. He's hiding out on his own now."
Gilmore came down the stairs, wearing a somber expression. Dark circles were under his eyes. His lab coat was rumpled and stained, not at all like the fastidious, Jewish scientist. "I need you three to sit down. I've got some unfortunate news."
"Just spit it out," Jet snapped.
Gilmore fixed Jet with and ugly glower. "Ivan's sick."
"How sick?" Francoise asked, sinking into a chair.
"He won't live past the end of this year."
With that, Francoise jumped back up and almost knocked Albert over as she ran up the stairs. He jogged after her, caught off guard by the news. He followed her into the attic laboratory.
Kaminari and Kozumi were sitting at a drawing table. Ivan was across the room from them on a soft bed. He was blankly staring up at the celling. Albert was not only stunned he was awake, but also appeared emaciated.
"Ivan," Francoise said, and quickly sat on the side of his bed. His heterochromatic eyes drift to her face. "How are you doing?"
"Well enough. This is a better day for me than most."
"The doctor told us you were ill. Are you comfortable?"
"I'm fine, Francoise. Please don't worry."
"He's being rather pigheaded about taking his medication," Kozumi said, walking over with a syringe.
Ivan shook his head. "I want to be clear headed and have access to my abilities; I can't do that on pain medication."
"But, you're very sick," Francoise insisted.
"You mean dying. Yes, they told me. Cancer. I've accepted. I welcome it," Ivan replied in a monotone.
"You can't mean that! Not when you've come so far," Francoise said.
"There was something I was told when we were prisoners... the second time. It'll be better for all of you... all of humanity if I were gone. I'll gain the final ability a psychic can achieve and go mad. It's the side effect of the final ability. No one who wheedles is sane."
"What happened to you back there?" Albert asked and walked over to the foot of his bed, crossing his arms. "You talk as if you weren't simple asleep the whole time."
"I was briefly reunited with my aunt, she'd mastered the final ability, precognition. When I knew her she was quite insane, but she was lucid when we were on Ghost Island. She passed away, but before that she predicted what I'd become if I keep living. I'll become that monster, the same as her, the same as I've always feared I'd become."
"I remember talking to you once before about it," Albert said, thinking back to the ship ride towards Australia. "But you're mistaken if you don't think you have free will to change it. You're not fated unless you choose to be. You know what could happen, but you can change that."
"And I'm choosing to embrace my illness and pass away for the good of humanity."
"That's a cop out," Jet scoffed from the doorway. He walked in and stood beside Albert, arms crossed, as well.
"There is nothing to do about it anyway! I'm destine to go insane!" Ivan snapped back.
"There could be something to do about it, but it's drastic. You just keep dismissing our plan," Kaminari said.
"It would involve too much risk," Ivan said.
"What did you have in mind, Herr Doktor?" Albert turned to the Sicilian scientist.
"Well, it seems the growth hormone developed by Dr Dressler was used on him. It's obviously not stable. We need to convince Dressler to help us."
"Dressler? Wasn't he the guy that fixed me up before?" Jet started. Albert turned and smirked.
"Same one, I bet," Albert turned back to Kaminari. "He didn't like helping us last time."
"But, I think he was starting to have a change of heart," Gilmore interrupted.
"We'll I'll go to Switzerland and have another conversation with the good doctor," Albert said.
"He's actually guest lecturing at Columbia University in New York," Kozumi said.
Albert looked over his shoulder. Jet was very grave. He ran his hands through his red hair and said, "I'll fetch 'em this time, since I'll be going to the Big Apple. All of you stay here and keep Ivan company."
"I'll go with you," Albert insisted. Jet's eyes narrowed and hardened. There was a slight tremor in Jet that Albert couldn't miss; it was the telltale sign Jet was about to explode in anger. "Before you start screaming your head off, keeping in mind Dressler is still Black Ghost. I'm just going to ensure he gets back here. Nothing more. You can do as you wish and stay in New York."
Jet's jaw clenched, he stormed off. Albert heard the loud slam of a door on the second floor. He turned his head and met Francoise's eyes. "What's bothering him?"
"I don't know, but I'll find out." Albert turned to Ivan and patted his frail shoulder. "Hang on, Ivan. We'll get you well."
Ivan shook his head. "I don't want you to help me."
"We all stand together. No arguments."
Ivan only turned his eyes back to the ceiling and said nothing as Francoise started fussing over his blankets.
Jet kept his mouth firmly shut on the flight to New York, and, thankfully, Albert had stopped trying to start conversations. He had fervently wished to be rid of Albert's presence in his life, but it wasn't working out. Just lately, his emotions went spinning out of control every time Albert was near, and Jet was getting exhausted trying to sort through them.
Not to mention, Jean-Paul showing up again reminded Jet that his own parents could be used against him. He was careful to not mention them to the others lest they start nagging him. His emotions were also mixed and torrential when he thought about them. He looked at the smooth skin around his right wrist. It used to have freckles and a scar, both given to him by his father, but the Black Ghost had taken those things away.
At first, he was grateful Francoise wasn't around to pry, and Ivan wasn't around to read his mind. Now he reconsidered, wishing they were there to put some distance between him and Albert. He started to feel he was chained to the older man. When the plane landed, Jet leaped from his seat and marched towards the exit. He slowed up in confusion at the busy airport concourse.
"What's wrong?"
Jet flinched at the question spoken in German. He turned to Albert and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I remember when this was called Idlewild. They changed the name some time when I was... away. Now it's named after the President."
"Things are bound to change."
"Guess so. So... let's get to Columbia U and then you get back to Ivan and Frannie," Jet said, itching to get rid of Albert.
"Why are you so keen on getting rid of me?"
Jet shivered. It was as if Albert had read his mind. Jet marched down the concourse and said, "Because I've got things to do that's really none of your business."
"Something bothered you in Korea," Albert guessed, causing Jet to shiver again at the perceptive, older man.
Jet let out a huge sigh and he blurted out, "I want to check on my folks! But don't you say a damn word!"
"You're worried about you parents? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know! It's complicated... with my old man. And my ma ain't better. I never got along with them, you know?."
"Yes, I'm aware." Albert was so somber. "They didn't treat you well, but they're still your parents. For good or ill. You can go check on them, while I go to Columbia and scout it out. Or..." Albert slowly gave Jet a smug grin, "...I can come with you."
Jet paled at the idea of Albert meeting his parents, but the more he tried on the idea, the better he liked it. He trusted Albert to keep him level-headed. What was it about Albert that encouraged him to behave?! Jet nodded and jerked his head to the lobby's exit. "Don't expect a nice home cooked meal."
To be continued.