Young Offender, Part 67:
Francoise took in a deep breath and coughed, struggling for her next breath. She shook off her dizziness and sat up slowly. The Russian evening was cold and dark, but she could see by the light of the full moon easily enough. Her bald kidnapper was now a human again.
He had his back to her. He only wore his scarlet trousers and boots, but he was starting to put on his red jacket, his yellow scarf still at his feet. The bald man glanced over his shoulder at her.
"Don't worry about anything. I'm a perfect gentleman, they just hadn't figured out how to make my uniform more flexible yet. One day soon." He quickly scooped up his scarf, tied it, and turned to her.
He held up empty hands as she reached for her ray gun. "I'm not armed, 003, so it would be rather unsporting of you to shoot without having a little chat with me."
She nodded. "So you're also a cyborg? Were you recently changed?"
"Not quite a year ago. I'm number seven, to be precises."
"How many in all?"
"In our group, the second generation, there are four."
"Second generation? How horrible for you. We'll certainly help you escape," Francoise said, a wave of sympathy for the man hit her, but she was still a little leery of him.
"Help us escape? We all volunteered, but..." the man started pacing a little, his lips twisting into a frown, "we're not exactly sure if the Black Ghost made fair deals with us. They didn't tell us about you four until recently. They say you got changed like us and then ran off to commit crime and destruction around the world."
Francoise shook her head vigorously. "No, no, no! We were never volunteers! They kidnapped us! Please believe me!"
His scrutinizing gaze on her softened and he nodded. "We had a feeling that might be the case."
"You can leave them and join us. They're horrible people. They kidnapped the four of us twenty years ago and forced this on us. They caught up to us once after we escaped, and those were some pretty black times for us. We managed to escape again, but then we knew there was no other way to live except if we started stealing from the Merchants of Death. It also serves to slow down their plot to cause world wide war. We never take things from innocent bystanders. We've suffered at their hands, and we know the world will suffer if they're not stopped. You must believe me. The four of you must leave them, too! They will only use you to cause war!"
The bald man's face grew incredibly grim. "We can't leave them. They offered us these huge favors if we joined them. In return, we must serve them. I just can't risk my daughter's life!"
Francoise gasped suddenly and stood on shaky feet. She walked over to the man and touched his elbow. "Do you go by the initials GB? And you're from London? "
He looked startled, but nodded. "That's what I go by and where I'm from. How did you know?"
"Because I met your daughter and your girlfriend recently. We had word that the Black Ghost had preformed a surgery on a child. At the time I didn't think it would be a possibility you were involved. The connection wasn't obvious because we had no idea they were ready to make more cyborgs."
He grabbed Francoise's bruised arms very desperately. "How are Sophie and Rose? Please tell me."
"Rose seems completely healthy. I watched her playing. Sophie... well...she's hurt that you left without telling her."
"I couldn't. It was part of the deal," GB said, letting go of Francoise' arms. "And the other three are in the same type of shape I'm in. You see why we can't just escape like you and your gentlemen friends did. Oh, speaking of which."
GB reached to the top of his right boot and handed her a worn and folded piece of paper. "I think Gianni and Albert would want this back."
"Gianni? How would you know Jet's given name?" Francoise asked, taking the paper and unfolding it with curiosity. Her enhanced eyesight easily read in the dark the letter from Albert to Jet.
"It seemed rather personal. I found it in, I guess, your old dormitory."
She reread the letter just to make sure she understood Albert's sentiment, but the line at the end caught her attention the most: "Also, be very careful and keep yourself safe for my sake, if not your own. I can't stand the idea of loss... Yours, Albert." She looked up at GB and murmured, "It must have been from that second time we were imprisoned. I guess even then they were in love." Francoise stopped herself, before revealing much more.
Her face started to redden as she folded it back and tucked it in her belt. It was the first unvarnished glimpse she had into Albert's feeling for Jet. Jet and Albert were very circumspect around her, even thought she accepted their relationship without reservation. Only recently had they been slightly more demonstrative around her and Ivan.
GB raised a curious eyebrow, but didn't say anything at Francoise's sudden silence. "I'll tell the others. I do believe you. We have to figure things out before leaving the Black Ghost. It seems our situation is vastly more complicated than yours, considering a lot of our loved ones could be held hostage and other various, nasty things."
"Let us help you," Francoise pleaded.
"We'll meet your crew some other time. Keep attacking the Black Ghost, but be careful. I'll tell your gentlemen friends where you're at," GB said, transforming into an eagle again. He took off into the night air, leaving Francoise feeling numb and scared. Mostly, she was frustrated she couldn't help that girl's father out of the dire situation he'd worked himself into. She fell back to the ground and sat trembling and praying Albert and Jet would fetch her soon.
Ivan flinched back. Ann's empathy attack was swift and strong. A crushing black depression invaded his mind. It loomed large. There was a need to tear at his skin to distracted from the mental pain trickling into his thoughts.
He crumpled to his knees and made an effort to reach for any of his abilities. He found they were at such a distance now. He looked over at her, apathy over his own fate started bubbling up. He couldn't let that continue!
Ann walked over to him and looked down in disdain, her eyes glowing green. /Now you know how I feel. I grieve over loosing the Gamos, but you're cold about it! I hate you for that! I hate you for leaving! You should have stayed! They cared for you!/
/No, I couldn't./ Ivan wrestled to use telepathy; it was more of Ann drawing his thoughts out. A slow, icy, numbing indifference pushed at him. It colored his feelings towards his mission to destroy the Black Ghost and protect the world. The the same indifference trickled towards his memories of Albert, Jet, and Francoise. He gasped, knowing he gave Ann an a soft spot to attack by not shielding his thoughts about them.
Her cold laugh startled him. "So you're jealous! Intensely, bitterly jealous of the friendship between those three. You're a freak like me. Like your mother and your father! You belonged with us, not them. How do they repay you for all of your help? They just use you."
"No! They care for me a great deal." He struggled with the concept that his friends weren't using him, but he felt it was more lip service to get Ann to back down.
"They fear you! Admit it!"
Ivan took a shaky breath as panic hit him, panic at the idea of being used and feared, but never loved. A surge of raw anger flared up in him, he threw his head back and screamed. He sank into an inky blackness, dragging himself from Ann's mindscape back into his own mindscape. Even when he was back in his own skin, he found himself unable to jolt his body awake.
Jet had lots of stars in his eyes as he attempted to get the giant cyborg's hands off his shoulders. "Get off me, you big dip stick!"
"Stay down. I don't want to hurt you," the man ordered in perfect, American English. Jet was put off, having not heard an American dialect in years. He quickly snapped out of it and brought his knee, hard, up into the cyborg's left side.
The man jerked slightly, but didn't let go of his hold. Jet's tongue flicked his right molar. His acceleration device hummed. Jet was suddenly deaf to the fighting around him, everything frozen. He again hit the giant cyborg in the left side with his knee, repeatedly. His acceleration device abruptly shut down, reaching its limit, and the sound of fighting crashed painfully into his ears.
He was pleasantly surprised to see the giant now sprawled five feet away to his right. He hopped up quickly to go help Albert, now engaged in a fist fight with the ebony skinned cyborg. The ebony skinned cyborg leaped backward and the pudgy cyborg let loose a blast of fire towards Albert. The German cyborg fell backwards to the ground, seeming dazed.
"Stop it!" Jet shouted and ran for the pudgy cyborg. The pudgy cyborg turned towards him and blew an intensely hot plum of fire his way. It drove Jet several steps backwards.
"Now you people are really hackin' me off!" Jet reached for his ray gun, attention on the pudgy cyborg. That's when he was shoved to the ground, face first. The giant put his knee in between Jet's shoulder blades and aimed a ray gun at his temple.
"Enough! Stay still and stop fighting. We don't want to hurt you."
Jet couldn't quite struggle under the massive weight of this cyborg, he was just too incredibly strong. Still, Jet was never one to give up, not ever. Especially, when Albert could be hurt. He stilled himself and waited, figuring the cyborg would ease up and then he could fight back.
Before that happened, the huge eagle, with scarlet fabric in talon, reappeared and morphed back into a man. He crouched on the ground beside the rotund fire breather, his uniform now in a hand.
"004, 002, stop struggling and I'll let you know where 003 is! We'll let you go in a minute!" the bald cyborg shouted as he jogged to the communication tent and ducked in. Minutes later, he came out clothed and carrying a briefcase. Jet knew that was the case of money the Soviets had brought to exchange for the aircraft. "I've got our answer and this."
The pressure on Jet's back eased up, but the giant kept his ray gun trained on Jet's face. Jet slowly got to his hands and knees and looked over to Albert. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, worried over how still Albert was.
He looked over towards the other cyborgs; intense malice filled the pit of his stomach. The giant American Indian went towards the plane and scooped up Ann, ignoring Ivan. Both were still unconscious. He kept his eyes on the four strange cyborgs and the one unconscious girl-child psychic, fearing another attack. He was relieved to see them retreat, leaving Ivan alone. They went to one of the three cars at the edge of the airstrip. He got to his shaky feet. He was unnerved when the landscape whirled around him and his ears rang.
He focused on Albert's still form and struggled to walk a straight line towards him. Jet collapsed to his knees as a clammy wave over took him. "Jet?" Albert's voice was so craggy.
"How are you?" Jet asked, noticing Albert's uniform was scorched in places, small embers covered the fabric before they faded to dark. Albert coughed horribly as Jet gently took him by the shoulders and dragged him onto his lap. "Albert, come on! Please be alright."
Albert's eyes opened slightly. He reached up slowly and laid his metallic hand on Jet's cheek, but Jet flinched away, his face singed. "You're burning up, Al."
Albert's arm dropped to his side as one of the cars pulled up to them. The bald shape changer hung his head out of the window. "She's ten miles due east."
"Drop dead twice, you bastards!" Jet howled, eyes watering in outrage.
The bald cyborg pulled a disapproving face. "Considering we just gave you a gift," he pointed at the advanced aircraft, "I think you should thank us."
With that, the car with the second generation cyborgs speed off into the night. Jet's teeth ground together painfully tight, enough so that the wiring scars on his gums were tingling.
"Jet, fly and get Francoise," Albert said, weakly. Jet eased Albert off his lap and stood, but almost fell backwards, the ringing in his inner ears climbed. He straightened up and jumped slightly, boosters on. Seconds later, he crashed into the ground. He pounded his fist into the hard, cold soil. Frustration and rage battled for dominance over Jet.
"I can't fly, Al. I can't!"
"No, we can do this and we will get Francoise." Albert slowly rolled over and stood on wobbly legs. Jet was quick to support him under Albert's right arm. "Let's load Ivan on the aircraft and get Francoise that way."
"What if it's a trap?"
"I don't think so, but we won't go directly to Sicily. Those guys were holding back, so that tells me they had some other motive other than serving the Black Ghost."
"Yeah, makes sense."
"Think you can at least fly this aircraft?"
"Don't know... too dizzy, I feel drunk, only without the happy buzz. We got to try for Frannie's sake."
As they helped each other towards Ivan, Jet remembered Francoise's hands clasped with his before he was dragged from his cell during their second stay on Ghost Island. He didn't care about his damages, he'd overcome it and bring Francoise to safety.
Francoise didn't know how long she'd been balled up, sitting on the ground, but her mood lifted when her hearing caught the sound of a plane. She stood on her unsteady feet and saw it was the advanced aircraft the second generation cyborgs had flow here. Her mouth grew dry at the thought that the second generation had defeated Albert and Jet and were now coming after her.
The aircraft's landing was a little lopsided, Francoise could tell watching Jean-Paul land enough to know. It came to rest and the hatched opened a minute later. Jet hung out of the hatch, horribly swaying. "Come on, Frannie, let's beat feet!"
She jogged over as quickly as she could and raised her hands. Jet caught one, and Albert the other. She was surprised how warm Albert's metal hand was as they pulled her inside. She looked over her male companions and they were in grim shape.
Albert had burns and bruises on his face and fleshy, left hand, his uniform was singed. His mechanical hand looked as if it was seized in an unnatural claw shape. Jet's nose was obviously broken, and his eyes would have raised bruises by the morning. Most troubling, Jet had some sort of uncontrollable tremors.
"Where to, Albert?" Jet asked in a voice a little too serene for Francoise's liking.
"Kozumi. He'll take us in and and Gilmore can meet us there. Plus, we can hide this ship in the bay beside Kozumi's house. We have to make sure it's clean of any tracking devices before we head for the Mediterranean."
Jet leaned against the bulkhead and slowly made his way to the cockpit with its support. Francoise stood to her feet but fell forward beside where Albert sat. He patted her head with his left hand. "Don't worry, we'll make it there."
"Ivan?" she asked, looking to the back of the ship where he lay inert.
"Don't know what Ann did to him yet," Albert answered as Jet got the plane in the air. "Can you help Jet? He's having difficulty seeing and hearing clearly."
Francoise nodded and made her way to the cockpit. She slid into the co-pilot's seat as a wracking coughing fit took hold of her. Jet glanced over to her. "You sound like how I feel."
"He didn't mean to hurt me, but I think I'm pretty bruised. Not nearly like you and Albert."
"Bastard," Jet mumbled, but she could certainly hear the venom. She helped Jet for several hours, relief setting in only when Jet brought the aircraft to rest in the shallow bay close to Kozumi's house. Jet turned to Francoise and gave her a lopsided smirk. "Isn't this how we met? Only we boosted a sub that time."
She laughed a little as they left the cockpit. Albert was propped up by the hatch, totally still. Albert shook his head. "I'm afraid my arm and legs are useless," he said bleakly.
Jet knelt beside him. He fixed Albert with a hard glare. "No way are you flakin' out on me, daddy-o. You're the toughest cat I know."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Albert said. He struggled to stand even with Jet's help. "One thing for certain. This game of ours just got a whole lot more dangerous."
"Damn straight," Jet said solemnly. Francoise went to check on Ivan, but he was in such a deep sleep. He seemed icy cold to the touch, but there was nothing she could do to help him at the moment. They could barely drag themselves around, Ivan would be difficult to carry. She brushed back his bangs and said before leaving the ship with Jet and Albert, "I promise, we'll be right back with some help. Hopefully, soon."
Francoise wasn't really surprised to see Kozumi jogging towards the bay to greet them; she was sure the aircraft made a horrible racket. She hoped Gilmore would get here as fast as possible. She felt extremely vulnerable with them all is such bad shape.
To be continued.