HSH: Hero Heist Chap 29-28
Chapter 29
Ending Quinn
You ever have a dream where you’re falling and then you realize it’s a dream and suddenly you’re able to fly? Well, it’s nothing compared to waking up and finding yourself actually flying.
Okay, so flying probably isn’t the most accurate way to describe what was happening. I was in an uncontrolled freefall speeding down to the Earth at terminal velocity.
After shaking the latest blow from my head, I managed to slow my descent to a hover. I was high above the clouds, the storm now below me. Savanah must have hit me incredibly hard, because I had to be at least a mile in the air. I’d venture a guess to say it was even more than that.
The bright sunlight warmed my damp and aching skin. I went to raise my arms to bask in its glory but the pain in my wrist and forearm kept my left arm planted firmly at my side.
I reached out and located the hangar. Quinn and the others were still there. All of them were back under their own brainpower. I guess with me out of the way, Quinn saw no reason to keep his mental leash on them.
I was miles away though, how was I able to sense them? I usually could only feel people in my immediate vicinity—at the most across a building. I hadn’t ever been able to read thoughts over such a long distance before.
Then I realized I wasn’t actually hearing any thoughts. My head was as empty as it had been before I could read minds.
Ha! Ha! Yes, I have an empty head. Good one.
It was strange not needing to block out everyone’s thoughts. It was peaceful, relaxing—a relief. I’d have to fly up here more often—whenever I needed to clear my head.
But that wasn’t the priority now. As much as I would love to float above the clouds all day, I had more pressing matters to attend to. Namely: Quinn.
One way or the other, my friends were in trouble and Quinn was the cause. Hell, not only my friends, my brother and family too. Even worse, the whole world’s fate hung by a thread, determined only by the outcome of what happened here. One way or the other, this would end today.
But I couldn’t kill Quinn in cold blood.
He threatened Conner, the voice reminded me.
I can’t.
He’s going to kill your friends!
I CAN’T!
Then how are you going to stop him?
Take away his powers.
I didn’t know how. It wasn’t like I could force him to imagine his abilities away like I’d done to Eddie. But somehow, it seemed like the right answer.
With or without a definite plan, I had to go back, and in a hurry before Quinn had the chance to do anything to my friends. Or worse, escape with the metal cross which, at this moment (I hoped), was still hidden inside the tool chest.
I flew in the direction I knew the hangar to be, not yet with any urgency, only because when I returned, I really needed to have some kind of game plan. If I didn’t, I’d probably get flattened again like I had a few minutes ago.
The one thing I did have on my side this time was surprise.
Behind me, I heard the roar of twin engines quickly approaching me through the vast blue sky. I turned, flying backwards, so I could view it, and more importantly, make sure it wasn’t going to hit me.
It was a smallish plane. Don’t get me wrong, it was still about forty feet long with a wingspan longer than my driveway. Each blade of the rapidly spinning propellers was at least as tall as I was. And those propellers were coming right at me!
Straight up I shot, getting out of the way before the blades chopped me to bits. Seconds later, the metal shell passed harmlessly beneath me, engines whirring as it disappeared into the thick gray clouds below.
Then and idea stuck me, and I shot like a missile into the cloud-wake the plane had created.
Grandpa Carpenter was wrong—sometimes you couldn’t lull your opponent into think he’d won. Sometimes you had to go for an all-out assault and remove as many pieces from the game as possible and go straight for the king.
And that’s where the plane came in.
Through the thick cloud-cover I made out the tail of the plane. I sped forward, until I was about even with it. Then I brought myself along the top until I was above the cockpit and grabbed on with my one good arm. I mentally glued myself to the metallic exterior and stood. The winds buffeted me and nearly knocked me backward, but I used my power to keep myself upright. I felt two men inside the cockpit, who were oblivious to my arrival. I sent an image of the plane in an uncontrolled dive to both their heads.
They grabbed the controls and tried to correct, which really did start the plane tumbling. So, doing my best to keep rooted to my spot, I sent another image to them telling them the controls were dead.
Needless to say, the two pilots panicked and rushed out of the cockpit without any further hesitation. I heard a loud bang a few seconds later, as the hatch burst open and the pair jumped from the plane, disappearing into the thick gray nothingness.
I did a mental scan of the rest of the plane and found nothing. At least I didn’t have to worry about harming any innocent people.
Actually, there were a few innocents I still had to account for, but I’d have to wait until I was closer. I couldn’t worry about that yet. Right now, I had a plane to control.
This is really going to hurt.
I’d never moved anything this large before, and I prayed I had the power to do it. I reached out until the entire plane was wrapped in an invisible aura. I used that aura to fly the plane in the direction I needed.
Fly is probably the wrong word for it—it was more like guiding a dead ten-ton bird in for a crash landing. And what a spectacular crash it would be if I did this right.
My head pounded and my limbs ached as I controlled the heavy vehicle’s descent. It tottered and wobbled, but using Quinn as a homing beacon I kept the craft on course. The further along I went, the faster and harder to control the plane became. It was almost as if the vessel was attracted to the ground. I did nothing to slow it down, the faster I moved, the greater the chance I would catch Quinn by surprise.
By now, every air traffic controller had to know something was wrong. I had the plane in a rather steep dive, and they would have no luck contacting the pilots, since they were most likely floating calmly to the ground somewhere behind me.
Suddenly, the clouds cleared—or rather I broke through the bottom layer—and I could see my target. Rain pelted my damp skin as it had before, this time stinging my face. I had maybe twenty seconds before the plane crashed into the hangar.
Hey, I said no innocents would be hurt. I made no claims about destruction of private property. Besides, I’d already accumulated two felonies on this trip. What was another one tacked on at this point?
While keeping the plane on as steady a course I could make, I attempted to contact Ethan. Between guiding the plane, holding myself in place and reaching out, it was too much for my brain and it felt like someone had stabbed deep into my skull with an ice pick. The copper taste of blood filled my mouth as it flowed freely from my nose. I was on the verge of blacking out again, but I pushed myself harder until I knew I’d made a connection with my boyfriend.
I could only concentrate long enough to send a simple message. Everyone out. Find Abby. Ten seconds.
Feeling, rather than hearing, his acknowledgement, I shut the connection down so I could better concentrate. I was homed in on Quinn, letting his brain pattern guide me right to him. The plan fell almost straight down, aimed at the roof of the hangar, directly above where Quinn was still floating.
Through the rain and wind stinging my eyes, I could barely make out the tiny people appearing outside the building. Ethan was doing his job perfectly. I would join them in a moment, but I had to make absolutely sure the plane found its target.
I had no doubt Quinn would survive. There was no way I’d get enough of a jump on him he wouldn’t be able to throw up some kind of shield. Chances were he already had a shield up. The purpose of this wasn’t to kill him. It was to hurt him, distract him, and give me time to get Abby.
More and more the hangar filled my vision, seeming to get larger every second that ticked by. Still, I stood firm, attached to the roof of the falling vehicle.
The nose had almost contacted the top of the hangar when I finally jumped off, confident it would topple down on top of Quinn. At that speed, the man would barely have time to react.
Crunching and scraping metal exploded behind me, as the speeding aircraft punched through the hangar’s roof. My own flight ended in much the same way, only much quieter. I unsteadily brought myself to the ground, crashing hard and skidding along the wet pavement until I reached the feet of my friends.
My motion hadn’t stopped for less than a second when two rough hands lifted my battered body from the ground.
“Are you okay?” Savanah asked.
I winced at the additional pain in my left arm. If the limb wasn’t broken before, it definitely was now. Despite the pain, I still nodded.
“You look like hell,” she added.
“Gee, thanks,” I responded.
Another loud crash drew my attention and I spun. The tail end of the plane fell through the hole, broken off from the rest of the plane which crashed to the ground and exploded. The outside walls of the hangar billowed outward from the pressure wave, and a half second later, I felt a thud in my chest, as if I’d been punched when the shock wave reached us.
“Cool,” Savanah said.
The tail fell down and crashed among the fiery remains of the former aircraft. Another loud crash filled the air.
And among it all, I could still feel Quinn.
Quickly, I looked through those gathered here. Savanah stood right next to me, then Klaus, Johnny, Gina and Jayson. All five stared in awe of the humongous explosion within the hangar.
“Where’s Ethan?” I asked. Then, looking closer at the gathered group, I also asked, “Where’s Peter?”
The only two to turn and look at me were Savanah and Klaus. The others didn’t even hear me. Johnny was too busy restraining Jayson, while Gina watched.
Savanah shrugged and Klaus shook his head gravely.
“No, no, no!” I turned again toward the hangar, the fire seeming to grow larger as whatever fuel in the plane burned. Hot plumes of black smoke billowed into the air. Were my friends in there? I couldn’t tell. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn’t feel anything but Quinn.
I started to run, no longer sure I would be able to fly, toward the hangar. I’d pretty much spent all my mental energies bringing the doomed flight in for a landing. I’d made it exactly four steps when another pair of hands wrapped around my shoulders.
The hands twisted me around so I could see their owner. Ethan was standing in front of me.
I threw one arm around him, then pulled back and punched him. “Don’t you ever worry me like that again!”
Standing with the group now was Abby. She looked perfectly fine, like absolutely nothing had happened to her. I should have smacked her.
“Christine,” she said with a nod of acknowledgement.
“Where the hell did you run off to? Ever think we might need your help?”
“Once you broke Quinn’s hold on us, Agent Smith took off. Commander Dresner and I chased him down. We thought you had Quinn handled. It appears we were right.”
“It’s not over yet,” I told her. “I need your help.”
She smiled. It was that sort of smug smile someone got when they were expecting an apology. Abby was going to get no such apology from me. “I’m all ears, Christine. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
I quickly went over what I thought was a good plan. Abby and the others still looked skeptical.
“I don’t have time to argue,” I finally said when they looked as if they were going to protest. “Quinn isn’t going to stay down for long, so I have to act now. Just give me what I need, and back me up in there.”
“Well, look who’s giving orders now,” said Abby.
“Hey, you’ve always said I was a leader. So, what’s it gonna be?”
She loaded and then handed me the device I’d asked for. “You better hope this works.”
It fit in the palm of my hand. It looked exactly like the device Smith had used to plant the tiny trackers/explosives inside my body. I shuddered to think I could potentially blow up at any moment if Smith decided it was my time to go.
Shaking the thought from my head, I prepared to reenter the burning hangar.
“You don’t have to do dhis,” Klaus said, grabbing me by the arm. “Let me. I am better shot.”
Ethan flashed a jealous look at Klaus, but thankfully didn’t rush over to punch the boy in the face—though I could tell he wanted to.
I pulled free from his grip before he got the idea in his head to kiss me again. “I’m the only one who’ll get close enough. And I can’t have him using you against me.”
I stepped backwards, wondering if I was seeing these people for the last time.
“If I’m not back in ten minutes, come charging in,” I said, looking at each of my friends in turn.
I turned and ran for the wide open hangar, limping only slightly. I didn’t trust myself to fly any longer, I really didn’t think I had the power. I clutched the device in my good hand and used my forearm to cover my nose and mouth as I entered the hot, smoky building.
For the second time in my life, I really understood how dangerous smoke inhalation could be. I was immediately coughing as I climbed through the wreckage which only moments before had been a cargo plane. Now it was only recognizable as burning, twisted metal.
Black smoke filled the large room, and the smell of that, mixed with petrol gas overloaded my senses. And the worst part was, I had to go deeper into the hellish place if I was going to find Quinn.
BOOM!
A mini-explosion from off to the side startled me, and instinctively I turned to see what it was. As I turned, there were two more. Whatever the cargo was in the plane was something under pressure, and the added heat was causing all the items to burst.
I turned back to continue my search for Quinn, only to find him standing right in front of me, completely unharmed.
“Hello, Christine.”
My arm shot up, to jab him in the neck with the device, but he was too quick. He slapped my arm away and shoved me back. I stumbled, and tripped over what I think used to be part of the pilot’s chair, but surprisingly didn’t fall.
“I no longer have any use for you.” He sent a mental blast in my direction which did sent me tumbling backwards and landing on my butt. He continued advancing on me, “You have become too uncooperative to deal with any longer. You simply cannot follow orders.”
I scrambled backward as he stepped toward me, trying to buy more time.
“You need to be taught a lesson,” he said. “One you will never forget.”
Before I could do anything, I was lifted off my feet and found myself floating, as helpless as Abby, Smith and Dresner had been. Then, through the wafting smoke, floated another body—Peter. He looked as if he was struggling to break free, but was equally immobilized. When he caught sight of me, however, his attempts stopped and he glared at me, as if this whole thing was my fault.
“I’m sorry,” I tried to tell him once again, even though in his state of mind, he wasn’t going to listen.
“Go to hell!” His anger still overpowered his reasoning.
My own anger got the better of me too. I could feel the rage boiling in every blood vessel. All of that fury was directed at Quinn, where it belonged. He knew the best way to hurt me was through my friends, and he’d taken Peter away from me. If I could break free of his mental grip, Quinn would feel my pain.
“I really hope you have nothing more to say to each other. Because I’m afraid you’re never going to speak again.”
“Wait,” I began, looking confusedly at Quinn. “What are you—” My question was cut off.
“I hate you!” Peter spat at me.
Then he was gone. Quinn flicked his wrist and Peter’s head turned to the right sharply. The outline of his spine jutted out at an awkward angle beneath his skin. His mouth hung open limply, and his eyes stared ahead blankly.
“NO!” I screamed.
Desperately, I tried to get a read on him. It couldn’t be true. It had to be an illusion, playing on one of my worst fears. But no matter how hard I pushed, there was no longer any trace of Peter’s mind. He was dead.
Still hanging in the air, I dropped my gaze to the ground. I couldn’t look at Peter any longer. I wanted to cry, but no tears came from my eyes. If I allowed myself to cry, my tears would make it true. And it couldn’t be true. Pete couldn’t be dead. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—accept it.
The rational part of my mind had already accepted what happened though. One second Peter was there, yelling at me, and the next, he was gone. What bothered me the most were his last words. He was my friend, and he died hating me. That was the part even my rational mind couldn’t accept.
Peter’s body fell to the floor. Quinn tossed him aside like a worthless piece of trash that had outlived its usefulness. I stared directly into Quinn’s eyes. Instantly, my grief flashed to vengefulness, like water flashing to steam after being poured on a red hot piece of metal. The man had gone too far.
I flexed my arms, using my rage to refuel my body. I pushed against Quinn’s mental hold and found I could move. I pushed further and completely broke his hold on me. As I hit the floor a shadow filled the edges of my vision. I thought it might have been from the slight jolt my body had taken as if fell to the ground again, but when I stood up, the shadow lingered.
Now it was Quinn’s turn to look frightened. I could sense no one had ever broken free of his mental snare before. He backed away as I advanced upon him. He heaved large chunks of burning metal in my direction, but I batted them away as easily as I would a mosquito.
I sent a blast of mental force at him this time and sent him sprawling on the floor. He scrambled backwards as I had only minutes ago, looking up at me with nothing but terror filling every pore of his being. He was forced to stop by the still intact wall of the hangar. With nowhere else to go, he looked up at me, defeated.
I stepped up to him, no longer feeling any pain in any part of my body. The anger flowing through me was enough to keep any agony I may have felt at bay.
“You killed him.” I was surprised to hear how deep my voice sounded. It was like I wasn’t the one speaking. “You hurt my brother. You threatened my family. What else have you done, Quinn? Did you kill Savanah’s grandparents too?”
He shook his head, holding up a hand as if he could defend himself. “No. No, I had nothing to do with that.” His voice shook, and had a plea in it. If this were any other day, under any other circumstances, I might have felt some sympathy for him. But after what he’d done…
I also was inclined to disbelieve anything the man told me, but I had a deep connection to his mind now. His sheer terror was making it impossible to block me out. He was telling the truth. He wasn’t responsible for what happened to Savanah’s grandparents.
That simple fact didn’t change his fate though. I turned my head for a moment and saw the shining silver object laying on the floor ten yards away. I pulled it toward me, sending it flying through the air into my outstretched, left hand.
Then, just as quickly, I spun and pointed Dresner’s gun right at Quinn’s forehead. “I hope you don’t have anything left to say,” I repeated his fateful words to him. “Because I’m afraid you’re never going to speak again.”
The shadow almost filled my entire vision now, leaving only one image in my sight: Quinn.
“Chris! No!” It was Ethan, he’d come in, ahead of schedule. He tried to reach for me, but I sent a mental blast in his direction and sent him sliding across the hangar floor.
“He killed Peter,” I simply said. “He is going to pay.”
No one was going to stop me from what I had to do. I took another step closer to Quinn, to ensure I wouldn’t miss.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around me, and tried to pull me back. I didn’t budge. I hit Savanah with an equally potent blast that sent her crashing through what remained of the plane’s hull.
They didn’t understand. It was time to end Quinn.
“Goodbye.” I pulled the trigger.
Click.
I took a deep breath and shook the gun as if that would help matters.
Click.
I pulled the trigger several more times.
Click. Click. Click.
It was empty, yet I continued my attempts to shoot him. With each squeeze of the trigger, the shadow dissipated, until it was gone and all that filled my vision were tears.
I collapsed onto my knees and let the water works flow, all the while continuing to shoot Quinn with an empty gun.
I don’t know how long it was, but eventually Abby came and took the weapon from my hand. Then she hugged me. She’d never done that before, but it felt natural coming from her, almost like being embraced by a sister.
I stopped my blubbering long enough to notice I still held the small device in my hand. If I couldn’t kill Quinn, I’d at least end his reign of terror. I leaned over and pressed the device against the base of his skull, behind his ear and pulled the trigger.
He winced in pain as the device injected the thought inhibitor under his skin. I’d effectively taken away his powers, and he wouldn’t be able to remove the inhibitor this time.
He made no move to attack me, but he did say one thing. “Now, you’re ready.”
I punched him with the hand that still held the miniature injector, knocking him unconscious.
Chapter 30
Aftermath
You know how in the movies, right after all the action takes place, that is the exact moment when the authorities and reporters show up? I used to think that was all part of the Hollywood charm, but as it turns out, it’s completely true. I barely had three minutes to rest before the sirens started wailing and a slew of Italian police and firemen charged up the runway for the hangar.
They were followed by no less than seven vans from various news channels.
They formed a perimeter, as we stepped out from the dilapidated hangar. The police raised their weapons, but made no show of force, nor any demands.
Abby flashed her badge, holding it high over her head for everyone to see. “I am a United States Federal Agent, responding to a terrorist threat. The situation is under control.”
“What did she say?” Ethan whispered in my ear.
I never would have guessed Abby could speak Italian. I repeated what she’d said and continued to translate.
“Please lower your weapons,” she continued. “We are no danger to you. My team has eliminated the man responsible for this travesty.”
“Ma’am,” one of the reporters interrupted, trying to push passed a policeman, “can you please tell us what happened?”
“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Abby responded.
Three other reporters, all jockeying for position now asked questions.
As Abby, held off the torrent of queries, I looked around. Myself, Savanah, Ethan and Klaus were the only ones left. Johnny, Gina and Jayson had disappeared. Seeing how Johnny was treating Jayson when I last saw him, I almost felt sorry for the boy—almost.
There was also no sign of Smith or Dresner either, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the two of them.
After fielding a few questions, but not really answering any of them, Abby decided to stop acknowledging the reporters altogether. Instead, she turned back toward us and spoke. “You’ve all been seen and by now your pasted on every news channel from here to London. I’m going to come up with a cover story. Whatever you do, don’t remove your masks.”
A minute later, a black SUV pulled up and two men dressed in suits sprang from the car. Abby simply pointed to where we’d left Quinn inside the hangar and said, “He’s in there. No need to be gentle.”
Quinn was dragged out of the hangar by the M.H.D.A. Agents a moment later in cuffs. He was awake once again, but looked like he had a nasty bruise on his jaw where I’d slugged him. As they loaded him into the car, he turned back to me and said, “If you’re really eager to find the Stephenson’s killer, I suggest looking a little closer to home.”
The door slammed on him, and even though the windows were tinted, his satisfied smile could still be seen as the SUV pulled away.
“What did he mean by that?” asked Savanah. “Was he talking about my grandparents?”
“I don’t know,” I responded to the first question. “And yes,” I said to the other.
“Go back to the safehouse,” Abby ordered.
Having never been there before, I asked the logical question, “Where is it?”
“Just follow me,” Ethan said.
“You better run slow.” My angry fit had served to recharge my powers, but I wasn’t nearly at full strength anymore, and the shooting pain running up and down my whole body also would lead to a pretty slow flight.
Abby turned to Klaus, who hadn’t said much since our romp with Quinn had ended. “You better find your commander. He’s going to need some help if he’s going to track down Agent Smith.”
Klaus nodded, then turned to me. “I guess this is goodbye.”
As much as I’d miss the annoying boy, I desperately wanted him to leave. The longer he lingered, the higher the chance was of Ethan discovering what had happened between us—twice. I loved Ethan and he loved me, and I didn’t want anything to change that.
“Yeah. Goodbye.” I acted as nonchalant about it as I could.
He grabbed my hand, lifted it to his mouth and gave it a little peck. Then he let go and ran off.
“Get going,” instructed Abby.
Ethan grabbed Savanah, but I thought of one other thing. “Wait!”
Limping, I went back inside the wrecked hangar. A few smoldering fires still remained, but for the most part everything had pretty much burnt out.
I saw the cabinet I put the metal cross inside and went right to it. I’d taken down Quinn, now I had to make sure no one else got their grubby little hands on the artifacts.
I threw open the door and was delighted to see the metal case still laying inside. I placed it on the floor. Then, undoing the latch, I opened the cross-shaped box. It was empty.
“No!” I cried, lifting the box to check every corner, in case I missed something. I hadn’t. The only thing inside the metal cross was… well, the inside of the metal cross.
Where did the shroud and pieces of cross go? I’d felt them inside when I threw the box in there. They couldn’t have vanished—could they?
I didn’t want to think about it anymore—not at that moment anyway. I had too much to think about already. All I wanted was to go someplace safe and rest.
Depressed at yet another failure, I limped back out of the hangar. “Let’s go,” I said to Ethan and Savanah. Then I once again took to the skies, floating high off the ground without even thinking.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd of both officers and reports alike, as they caught sight of what I was doing. We needed to get out of there before there was any time for questions. I didn’t feel like answering questions.
Ethan sensed it too and, holding tightly to Savanah, disappeared into the wind. I likewise sped off as fast as my battered mind and body could handle, following my boyfriend to the safehouse.
**********
The problem with taking time to rest: you also allow your mind to wander. And unfortunately, laying on the hotel bed, I had a lot on my mind to wander through.
I still hadn’t totally accepted Peter had been lost. I kept replaying the scene over and over again in my head, searching for something proving he was still alive. Each time I came to the same conclusion: he couldn’t have survived.
What bothered me the most—he died hating me. His final words replayed over and over too.
I would never be able to make amends. I would feel guilty about that for the rest of my life.
Another thought infiltrated my mind too. I almost killed Quinn, and it wasn’t by accident. I willfully pulled the trigger with the intent of murdering the man. If the gun hadn’t been empty, I would have succeeded.
I’d let my anger take control of me again, and almost let it consume me. I couldn’t let it happen again. The effects were too dangerous to predict.
The only thought that offered me any solace was the slightest possibility that, at least subconsciously, I knew there were no bullets in the gun. It was the only thing that gave me any peace-of-mind. The alternative was knowing how easily I could be led to kill someone.
And I wasn’t a murderer.
The other thing bothering me about the incident with Quinn was his comment before I knocked him out. “Now, you’re ready.”
Ready for what?
I tried distracting myself by turning the hotel TV on, but it seemed no matter what channel I switched to, the only things on were coverage of me flying away from the Vatican or escaping from the airport.
I couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but if they hadn’t made the connection between the two mysterious flying beings yet, they soon would. Abby was going to have a hell of a time covering this one up.
Hitting the power button, I threw the remote on the floor. The back came off and the batteries sprang out and scattered across the room. Even the TV couldn’t provide any comfort.
So, I decided to try closing my eyes and falling asleep.
Unfortunately, even my dreams had turned against me. I was jolted awake several times by images of Peter’s broken body. Sometimes it looked as it had been in real life, and other times his snapped neck was grossly exaggerated, like being turned completely around, or tied in a knot.
Once, when I woke from one of these mini-nightmares, I saw Ethan sitting next to me in the room’s only armchair. He had a wrapped sandwich in his lap.
His voice was calm, soft and soothing. “I thought you might like to eat.”
He thought wrong. I was in no mood to eat, and the way my stomach felt, I doubted my ability to hold down food anyway.
I took the sandwich, giving Ethan a peck on the cheek, and promised I’d eat it later. He seemed to accept that, and leaned back in the chair. He stared up at the ceiling, looking bored.
He wanted to ask me about me and Klaus, the question was at the forefront of his mind. He was worried I’d been taken away from him by the older boy. He sat awkwardly in the seat next to me for nearly a minute as he debated broaching the subject. Instead, when he finally spoke, he simply asked, “How’re you doing?”
“I don’t think you’re going to like the answer.”
“Probably not, but I still want to hear it.” He had a stupid lopsided grin on. I wanted to smack it off.
Instead of answering, I asked, “Why aren’t you upset? Don’t you feel anything?”
His mouth opened and his eyes went wide with shock. “How can you even think I’m not upset?”
I didn’t know what to say. I stammered for several seconds before I finally got words out. “You just seem, all right with it. Like it didn’t even happen. You’re acting… normal.”
“You really must have turned your powers way down,” he said. He leaned toward me and showed every single worry line on his face. There was no longer a hint of a smile. “I put on the brave face for your sake, Chris. I know how guilty you feel and I know of all of us, you need to be cheered up the most. Believe me, I’m as torn up about it as you.”
“It.” Neither of us could bring ourselves to say Peter, or murder. So we referred to “it.” It was so degrading, and not worthy of Pete’s memory.
I didn’t mention any of these thoughts to Ethan. I didn’t want him to know how much what had happened effected me. In a way, I was trying to put on a brave face, like he was. Instead, I simply said, “Thank you.” Then, a second later, I thought to add, “For being strong for both of us.”
He nodded, then slumped back in the armchair. He looked as worn out as I did. “Abby called. They recovered your bags. And a medic is coming over to look at your arm.”
“Great,” I said, meaning it, but showing no real enthusiasm. I didn’t have any room in my life for enthusiasm anymore.
We sat in silence and I eventually drifted back to sleep, only to be awoken by yet another dream, this time of Quinn. He’d killed Peter, and now he was coming after everyone else I cared for.
This time when I sprang back from my dream it was to a terrible pain in my arm. The medic Abby had sent over had set the swollen, black and blue mess my arm had become by quickly jamming the bone back into place. It hurt, but I’d been beaten so much today, I hardly noticed.
He started scanning my arm and other parts of my body with what looked like a long metal wand, like they use at security stations in the airport. I didn’t know what he was looking for, but he apparently didn’t find it.
I fell asleep again as he wrapped my arm.
My eyes shot open after an angry Peter, head flopping down off his neck, though still attached to his body, shot hot, blue lightning at me. The echoes of “I HATE YOU” still filled my ears as I blinked the dream out of my vision.
The room had grown darker, and I strained to see the window. The light outside was dimmer too. The sun must have been setting, if it hadn’t already set. Either way, I’d been laying there for a few hours. I looked to the armchair. Ethan was no longer there.
I was still very tired, almost like in a daze, and finding it hard to focus, but I could tell someone had changed my clothes. There were also voices outside the doorway in the suite area of the room. I could hear Ethan, Savanah and Abby talking.
“What are we going to tell her?” Savanah asked.
“For now?” Abby responded. “Nothing. There’s no reason to worry her. She’s been though enough.”
Ethan came to my defense. “If we can handle it, she can handle it.”
“I think we should let her rest, I had the medic give her a tranquilizer, she should be out until morning. We’ll see how she is then,” Abby said.
What were they talking about? I needed to know.
“Ethan, you know how Christine gets. She says she doesn’t want to go running off to save the world, but she’s always the first one on the battlefield,” Savanah argued. “She can’t help it. If we tell her now, she’s going to want to do something about it.”
Ethan sighed. “Maybe you’re right.”
Now I had to know what they were talking about. Whatever it was, couldn’t have been good.
I sat up and suddenly felt light-headed. Whatever tranquilizer they’d used on me was still apparently doing a number on my system. On shaking legs, and feeling more groggy with each step, I stumbled over to the door. I stepped sideways, and knocked into a lamp with my bad arm. I stifled my cry of pain, but they had heard me anyway.
The door swung open and Ethan was by my side, holding me. “Chris, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” My voice sounded so far away.
“Get her back into bed,” Abby ordered. “She shouldn’t even be awake, let alone standing.”
Ethan forced me back into bed. I protested, but was too weak for it to do any good.
“I’m fine,” I repeated. “I heard you talking. Tell me what’s happened.”
“No,” Abby said forcefully. “You get some rest, and we’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“Tell me,” I insisted.
“Loser, lay there and go back to sleep.”
I shook my head. “I want to know. Please.”
Abby looked at the other two, then down at me. “The fact your even awake is amazing in and of itself. Where you find your strength, I doubt I’ll ever know.”
“Stop stalling and tell me. I’m not sleeping until you do.”
She rolled her eyes and sat on the bed by my feet. “Fine. But this isn’t news you want to hear.”
Ethan sat next to me and grabbed my good hand, squeezing it gently. Savanah stood next to the bed like a sentry—I guess in case I decided to bolt as soon as I heard what Abby said.
“Dresner , Klaus and three other V.S. operatives took Smith into custody a few hours ago,” Abby explained.
It sounded like good news. I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t want to tell me.
I quickly found out, as Abby continued. “They were working with us, and he was to be extradited back to the United States, for the M.H.D.A. to deal with. I was going to see him put away for the rest of his life. We had him in holding, awaiting orders to ship him back when…” She trailed off, her face turned red and she looked away from me.
I tried sitting up, but between the sedative they’d given me and Ethan’s arm on my shoulder lightly pressing me down, I didn’t budge more than half-an-inch. “What? Did he kill himself?”
Abby shook her head. “No. I got orders to release him. My superiors say he’s committed no crime.”
“But… how… I don’t understand? Didn’t you say he was spending all that money and going against orders?”
“Yes, he was. At least, I thought he was. How could I have been so stupid?” In a move so unlike her, she punched the mattress in anger. “The whole thing was setup so if things went downhill, one person would take the blame, so the whole agency wouldn’t be implicated. Smith was their fall guy, but apparently, they weren’t ready for him to fall just yet.”
“So, he’s going to get off scot-free?” I couldn’t believe it. After all he’d done, they were going to let him go.
“Yes.”
I lay there, in shock. It was like we hadn’t accomplished anything on this whole mission other than capturing Quinn.
“Tell her the rest,” Savanah said. “Let’s see what she thinks of that.”
I had a sinking, aching feeling reaching from the pit of my stomach all the way up my spine. “What?”
“He’s taken Quinn,” Abby said. “And we think he may have the shroud too. We think he’s going to use them both to complete his army.”
Okay, I have to admit, Abby was right. They should have waited until morning to tell me.
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