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the-real-srsteele · 3 years ago

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We got three chapters left...hang on guys

TA-418 Saga Part 11: Courage to Continue

Monica walked down Odyssey’s main street, feeling good. She straightened the collar of her white button-down shirt. She wore a black blazer over her shirt and a black pencil skirt. She wanted to make a good impression at her job interview, and she made sure to dress the part. That had at least helped because she got the job and started effective immediately on Monday.

She walked to the end of the street at the crosswalk. As soon as the street was clear, she walked across the street as fast as her high heels would allow her. She held her head high as she walked, letting the morning sun shine on her face, soaking in it’s warmth. A small smile of pleasure spread across her face. She had gotten a job and was feeling good.

Almost good enough to go and visit Duncan. Maybe it would be easier to face him now that she had at least part of her life together. Maybe it would be easier for him to forgive her for everything. But then again, maybe he wouldn’t. She sighed. She knew she couldn’t hide from it for long. Perhaps it would be best to rip off the band-aid and go directly to Hillingdale.

Monica was about to make up her mind to go there, when suddenly, she became aware of footsteps close behind her.

Casting a glance over her shoulder, she realized that someone was following her. She had seen him as she departed the place where she was being interviewed. The man was wearing sunglasses and a hat, so she couldn’t tell who he was.

As soon as he saw she had noticed him, he spoke up. “Excuse me, miss?”

Monica knew that if he got her to slow down her pace, he could get her to stop. She didn’t know what this guy wanted, so she quickened her pace. The man matched her stride and was soon walking beside her.

He spoke in a low voice. “Monica, we need to talk.”

Her face did not change. She knew this voice all too well. She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “Charles.” She said curtly, “Nice to see your back on the outside.” She didn’t mean it.

“Likewise I’m sure.”

She kept looking straight ahead. “Pretty bold of you to come back to Odyssey.”

A flicker of a sneer ran across Charles mouth. “You have arguably more boldness than I do, considering your track record with the good people of Odyssey is far more personal than mine.”

Monica glanced down but remained silent. She didn’t want to dignify that slight with a response. She also didn’t know if she could defend herself when what Charles had said was true. She did have a more personal track record with the people here.

Charles broke her thoughts. “Actually, your track record is exactly why I’m here.”

Through her teeth, Monica said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, I think we should.” Charles stopped dead in his tracks.

The redheaded woman stopped and turned to face him.

Charles took a step towards her. “He’s back, Monica. And he’s got a new mission.”

Her brow furrowed. “He? He who?” No! Not him, please don’t let it be him! She wasn’t sure if that was a prayer, a wish, or just a thought, but whatever it was, she hoped it worked.

“I think you know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“What does this have to do with me?” she asked, deciding to play dumb.

“We need your help. You have the resources and the know-how to get us what --and who -- we need. In other words, I have a mission for you.”

“What if I refuse?”

Charles smiled condescendingly. “Oh, Monica,” He purred, “When have you ever been able to pass up a mission?”

She took a step back. “What if I’m tired of it? What if I’m ready for something else?"

He shook his head. “You’ve never been able to before. You may go through a phase where you say you’re ‘different’ and ‘law-abiding’ but you’ll always be back. I know you too well for that.”

Monica closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She fought to keep her voice steady. “Charles I-”

“Come on, Monica,” he interrupted with a hint of impatience, then turned to a more coaxing tone. “You know you want to.”

Monica gritted her teeth. Not this time, Charles. “No.” She clenched her fists. “I don’t want to.”

Charles took another step and looked her in the eye. He was not used to being refused. “What?”

Her eyes bored holes in him, and her words came out clearly and separately, as though they were cut out of ice. “I said no. I’m making a choice this time, Charles. I’m not going back.”

Before he could retort or do anything else, she turned and began to run, which was difficult considering she was wearing heels, but she had to get out of there.

“Monica!” Charles commanded. She didn’t hesitate or even give a second look over her shoulder.

He gave a low growl; his voice grew deadly. “You want to play that way? Fine.” he muttered under his breath, “There are ways in which she can be persuaded.” He turned and walked in the opposite direction, a plan already forming in his mind.

Connie and Jillian pulled into a parking space nearest to Whit's End. They had just gotten a call from Whit that they could go inside the shop now. No one had not been allowed to go in since the shop was vandalized. They both got out of the car and walked over to where they could see Whit, Richard, and Jason standing out front talking.

There was still plenty of debris scattered on the ground and the landscaping was still torn up. Connie wanted to get to them quickly but had to wait for Jillian as she meticulously tried to pick her way around all that lay on the ground. She nearly lost her balance a couple of times as she tried to navigate through on her neon pink platform heels.

"Good morning, Connie," Whit called out.

"Hey, Whit." Forgetting Jillian, Connie quickened her pace and walked up to him, embracing him warmly.

"Hey Richard, hey Jason." She greeted each of them.

"Hiya."

"Good morning."

Connie turned. "Jillian, are you coming?"

Jillian was still only halfway across the lawn. "Yeah, I'm coming!" She tottered a little, making her large hoop earrings sway dramatically.

Connie rolled her eyes. "I told her she shouldn't wear those shoes when we were getting ready to come."

Finally, Jillian got there. She gave a winsome smile. "Hello, boys."

"Hello, Ms. Marshall," Richard said dispassionately.

"Jillian." Jason said in a tone that was polite, but all together lacking in endearment.

The silence that followed was slightly awkward.

Whit broke it. "Alright, before we go in, make sure to put on a hardhat."

Each of them grabbed one and put it on as they walked into the discovery emporium.

"And it took me three hours to get my hair this way." Jillian pouted as she carefully adjusted the hardhat, trying not to make it mess up her carefully styled hair.

They all walked inside. There was no bell above the door to announce their entrance like there usually was, which felt wrong in itself.

A dismayed murmur escaped from the group as they looked around the shop. The chairs and tables had been tipped and lay around in disarray. Thousands of fragments of glass and rubble littered the floor.

Richard gave a low whistle.

“I love it when you do that.” Jillian giggled.

Richard pursed his lips and made a mental note to never whistle in her presence again.

Connie put her hands over her mouth. "It's even worse than I thought."

"Did the forensics people find any evidence in this mess?" Jason asked.

"Admittedly, they didn't find much," Whit reported. "These guys knew what they were doing. However, they did find a pair of muddy shoe prints, they also found some hair and they’re analyzing it for DNA."

“These guys always slip up some way or another.” Jason observed.

Connie glanced down at the scattered bits of broken glass that lay all over the floor. “Are we allowed to start cleaning up around here?”

“Yes, Detective Polehaus gave us the go-ahead,” Whit answered. “I have some repairmen coming to look at the shop later and give us an estimate on the damage.”

“Okay, in that case, I’ll at least try to get started on cleaning up around here.” Connie quickly walked off to the kitchen. The door swung shut behind her.

“I’m going to go upstairs and see if they did anything up there.” Jason started up the stairs. “I’ll go with you” Richard followed behind.

“Do you guys need help?” Jillian called after them.

“We’re good. Thanks though.” Jason shouted from the top of the stairs.

The two men walked through the Bible room. The figurines in the various displays were knocked over and so were the fake trees that were set up in the garden of Eden display, but other than that there wasn’t that much damage compared to the first floor.

Whit came downstairs after checking on the Imagination Station. The front glass had been smashed in, but much to his relief, they hadn’t destroyed the inside of it, or messed with the circuit board. They hadn’t done nearly as much upstairs as was first believed.

He strolled across the soda fountain area and went around the counter. He could hear Connie rummaging around inside the cleaning closet, trying to find the broom and dustpan. Something crunched under his shoes. He glanced down and saw more pieces of glass. He looked up and saw that the soda glasses Connie had washed the night before and set by the sink to dry were now smashed to bits, sparkling as they caught the light.

“They sure had a field day here, didn’t they?” Connie’s muffled voice called from the closet.

Whit shook his head. “I know.”

“Is everything alright upstairs?”

“It’s better than down here.” He replied. He started to walk to the door to go through the kitchen to go to the servant’s staircase that led up to his office.

“Whit.” Connie’s voice came more clearly from the closet.

He turned. Connie was standing in the doorway of the closet, gripping the broom handle tightly. She pursed her lips and looked like she was on the edge of tears.

A shadow of concern crossed Whit’s face. “Are you alright?”

Connie took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. I’m just- I don’t know- feeling a little anxious about this whole thing. The whole situation with this place being vandalized, and the old building, and Blair getting hurt, and… all that.” she gave a small shudder, and rocked back and forth on her feet. “It reminds me of the times when Blagaard was here.”

Whit looked at her sympathetically. “I know how you feel. I’ve thought the same thing myself.”

“You don’t think it is Blagaard, is it?”

“No, I don’t think it is.” Whit reassured her.

Connie tapped her foot anxiously. “Then who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.”

“I hate that. Not knowing things. It makes me feel so… helpless.”

Whit gave a gentle smile. “God knows what’s going on Connie. And he will give us the strength to face whatever happens. No matter who is behind this.”

She nodded. “I know. I wish I didn’t forget that so frequently.”

“It’s something we all need to be reminded of, but especially in times like these.” he smiled. “I think I needed to be reminded of it too.”

Jason and Richard trotted down the stairs. “For the most part everything just needs some general clean up in the Bible room and the train room, Dad,” Jason called out.

“A lot of books were torn off the shelves and dumped on the floor.” Jillian came out from the door that led into the little library.

“We’ll take care of that momentarily,” Whit nodded, “I’m going upstairs to check on the office and-”

At that moment Monica burst in, she slammed the door shut behind her and staggered, steadying herself against the counter.

Jason's expression turned to concern. “Monica, are you alright?”

She gulped and nodded. Jason didn’t look convinced. He pulled up a chair and sat her down. She took several ragged breaths and clutched her side with one hand. “I- I’ll be fine. I just came from my job interview and-” she broke into a spasm of coughing.

“I’ll go get you some water.” Jason walked over behind the counter to go and find a glass that wasn’t smashed. A look of jealousy flitted over Jillian’s face as he did this. “I’m pretty thirsty too,” she added.

“There are glasses in the cupboard that aren’t broken, Jillian,” Connie answered. Jason cast an appreciative glance in her direction.

“Did you run all the way from your job interview?” Richard asked.

“Almost.”

“Was there a reason for you doing that?” Whit asked curiously.

“Yeah. It’s pretty serious too.”

Jason came carrying a small plastic glass of water. “Here’s your water. What was it?”

Monica took a long drink while everyone waited in suspenseful silence.

She set the glass down and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Jason.” She stood up, “I saw Bennett Charles.”

Jason, Connie, and Whit started. Richard and Jillian looked confused.

“What?!”

“I can’t believe this!”

“Who??”

Whit turned to Richard. “Do you remember the Novacom scheme we told you about last time you were here?” He asked.

Richard nodded. “Yeah, when a couple of corporations tried to take over the world with mind control?”

“Charles was one of the men heavily involved in that scheme.”

Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “And he’s back?”

“Yes,” Monica answered. “He talked to me.”

Jason leaned forward. “What did he say?”

Monica proceeded to recap their conversation. All the while Jillian stared at her sullenly.

Monica held her water glass and looked at it as though it would give her the words to say. “He told me he knew I would be back. He said he knew that I would always come back to a life of crime.”

Jillian spoke up. “Well, I mean sometimes we all have things we LITERALLY just can’t re-”

Jason shot her a don’t-you-say-another-word-look. He turned back to Monica. “I don’t think that’s the case with you.”

She rubbed her forehead, “ I’ve seen way too many cases like it. At Campbell county prison, prisoners would get on parole, but they’d be back. Within weeks or days, even. Sometimes I wonder if it’s true. Sometimes I wonder if people with pasts like mine can ever change.”

“Only by the grace of God.” Richard said softly, “I know.” Even a traitor may mend. I have known one that did.

Jason put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t let what he said get to you. The fact that you ran away says otherwise. I’m proud of you.”

She smiled weakly. “Thanks.” She whispered.

“But in the meantime,” Connie jumped in, “what are we going to do about Charles? He’s clearly up to something!”

“I’ll notify agent Bourland, but we don’t have any evidence that he is up to anything. For now, it’s just Monica’s word against his.”

“They’re probably pretty busy with the old building case and Jellyfish right now,” Jason added.

Richard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Charles, the old building, Jellyfish,” he muttered thoughtfully, “Do you think they’re connected?”

Whit looked at him. “I don’t know. I ought to look into that.”

Monica stood up. “Thank you for everything guys.” she smiled. “I’ll be in touch.” she walked out.

“Bye Monica.” Richard, Jason, Connie and Whit chorused.

Blair gazed listlessly out the hospital window. She had stayed overnight so the doctors could observe her. She was going to be discharged the next morning according to the nurse. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. The place was cheerless, outside of the times that Jay and Buddy came to visit, as well as Richard’s occasional check ups. Connie had stopped by last night to bring her some things from her apartment. The pain in her arm was starting to subside, since the painkiller was starting to kick in.

Her phone rang and it vibrated the stand by the bed. She reached for it with her free hand. Reaching it required her to turn to her side. She groaned. She had a bruise on the side of her leg and her chest ached anytime she turned, or laughed, or did anything outside of staying still. She quickly reached and grabbed the phone. She glanced at the screen. The contact name read Alex. She smiled and pressed the accept button.

“Hello?”

“Hey Blair.” Her youngest brother’s voice came raspily over the phone.

“What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that. Did Mom call you?”

“Yeah, she did yesterday afternoon.”

“Did she let you have it?”

“Not like when we were kids. She was mostly just worried.”

“Yeah, we all were when Mr. Bourland told us. Chris sends his love. He wanted to call but had work and couldn’t get the time.”

“Send him my love too.”

There was silence for several moments.

Alex let out a long sigh. “Sis, you really should have let someone help you out with this.”

“Well I couldn’t take you, you haven’t even graduated yet. That would definitely be endangering a minor, and I didn't want you to be a high school dropout. And Chris is climbing the ladder in the business world. I wasn’t going to take him away from that.”

“He did inherit the business gene from Dad,” Alex commented. “Well, if not me or Chris, then somebody. If someone was there, you might be alright.”

“A couple of kids were helping me when I went in. But they were there by coincidence.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Well, for lack of a better word.”

“I would say providence is more like it.”

Blair nodded slowly. “You’re right.” she said quietly. “If it hadn’t been for them, I might not be alive right now.”

“Exactly. I don’t know if we - I - could have coped with that.” Alex’s voice choked up. “We’ve already had one death in the family, we couldn’t lose you too.”

Blair blinked several times to keep her own tears at bay. “Oh, Alex.” she whispered softly. More than anything, she wanted to be there with him, to give him a hug, and tell him that everything would be alright. Alex was such an enthusiastic and optimistic person, she was always concerned, yet honored when he shared his worries or sadness with her.

He took a deep breath. “You’re independent, even a loner sometimes Blair, and I get that. But you can’t expect to do something like this alone.”

“I know now.” Blair answered, glancing down at her arm, which was now in a cast, rather than a splint.

Blair could hear a slight smile in his voice. “It takes a team, you know? We were created to need other people.”

“Yeah. And I’m lucky to have someone like you on my team.” she smiled, “Thanks for the reminder. It’s something I don’t remember often enough.”

“Hey, we gotta stick together.”

She knew he was thinking of Brad when he said this. Despite the tragedy of his death, it had drawn the family closer together in some ways. They communicated with each other more openly, and more frequently.

“How’s graduation prep coming?” she asked, changing the subject.

“It’s going well. It’ll be in about six weeks. Do you think you’ll make it?”

“Definitely. Bourland took me off the case anyway.” She said jokingly.

“Ah, glad you could pencil me in.” Alex joked back.

She laughed, then stopped abruptly. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Just my ribs.” she answered hoarsely.

“What did they do to you?”

“Bourland didn’t tell you?”

“Only some things. Tell me from the beginning, all about the case I mean. I get the feeling I don’t know half of what was going on.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

That evening, a quarter moon shone over Whit’s End. A car pulled up in front of the shop and John Avery Whitaker got out. As he walked up the front steps, he pulled out his keys. He needed to check on something, but hadn’t gotten the time until now.

What Connie had earlier that day, and when Monica had announced Charles' return, it had brought something back to his memory. Then, when Richard said he wondered if it all was connected, it made him wonder even more. He had a hunch and wanted to check to see if it was correct. He needed to check the secret computer room. He unlocked the door and pulled out his flashlight, shining the light on the floor to avoid tripping on anything as he walked in. He walked through the desolate soda fountain area. The flashlight beam cast lanky shadows on the walls and the floor. The older man carefully ascended the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the dead night air.

He walked into his office, closed the curtains, and flipped the light switch. Whit blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the light. He searched the shelves for a moment or two, until he found the book he was looking for. The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis. He opened the book and looked in the back of the inside of the cover. Ah-ha! Good to know the key was still in its place. He placed it in the keyhole and twisted it.

The door opened slowly, and revealed what hid behind it. His secret computer room. He walked in. “Hello Mabel.” he said to the biggest monitor.

The monitor’s screen flashed to life. “Hello John Avery Whitaker.” Mabel’s robotic voice answered.

“Mabel, show the log history.”

Mabel whirred. “Showing log history.” The log appeared on the screen.

Whit’s eyes scanned the various entries and looked for any he didn’t recognize. There was one when Eugene was in here a couple weeks ago, then there was the entry where he was going to shut off the train set because it was malfunctioning. But there was one recent log he didn’t recognize. It was at 12:32 P.M., three days ago. When the shop was closed.

He gasped. Someone had broken into the computer room two days after the shop was vandalized. His pulse raced. “T-thank you, Mabel. Uh, shut down.”

“Shutting down.” The computerized voice responded. The screen went dark after a few seconds. The whirring in the computer slowed, then stopped completely.

Whit sat in the silence of the hidden room. He tapped his hand on the tabletop anxiously. Was it someone on the police force? He made a mental note to check with detective Polehaus the next day.

He scratched his head. “The question is...who did this, and why?”

That evening, a man looked out the bay window over the nighttime bustle of the city. From this building, you could see a lot of the cityscape, and the Chicago river winding down below.

Things had gone awry. Badly. Some person had barged into Charles operation central in Odyssey. Then the police arrived and those who were in the building panicked and left. They didn’t take the person with them, and now, he or she was a witness out in the open. What was worse was that by now she probably had protection. He now wished he hadn’t already assigned his sniper to take care of the leak in San Francisco. To add to things, it turned out that the man Myron Horowitz had been following had caught onto him before he could make his move. How did that happen? Time and his job had clearly done Mitchell some favors. One day, he was following him and about to ‘take care’ of him, then the next thing Myron knew, Mitch and his superior made contact and he made sure he was never out of his sight. To make things worse, Mitchell and his boss knew that he was being followed and were actively looking for him. He had to ditch his car, and wasn’t sure what to do.

The man sat forward in his office chair and rubbed his eyes. “Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.” He mumbled.

The one silver lining was that he had friends in high places in Odyssey, who could get them out of scrapes. Officer D.A. Henderson. When the police were investigating the building, and the men scattered, Henderson “followed�� the men, but "Lost them". He came back claiming that they shook him off. He and Rolland were the ones who hadn’t messed things up.

The man stood up. “Well, I know what I need to do.” He picked up the phone and dialed a number. The phone buzzed a few times, then someone picked it up on the other end.

“Hello, Charles? Yes, please tell Rolland and Jellyfish to drop their missions and to meet me here tomorrow evening."

A pause.

"Several reasons, but mainly this one: We need to regroup. We’ve been outsmarted nearly every turn of the way, no thanks to you. It will help if we can temporarily take the most-wanted ones for a few days. Just to throw a cog in the works. This stall would be all that we need to finish the final steps of our plan.....So we need to get back together and talk about how to execute the final step of this plan without them getting in the way……Yes, get them on the next flight here…..Don't fail me again, Charles. The stakes are high and I can't afford another goof up from you, or any other of your comrades. Remember that."

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