"Miss Parker, please wake up."
The urgent male voice and the hand shaking her shoulder forced her to away from the wonderful place of her dreams. With a low sigh she open her eyes, unwilling to face the real world, but knowing she had no choice. The moment she saw Alexander’s face in front of her the whole situation came back to her and she wished nothing more than to be able to go back to the sanctuary of her sleep.
"What?" The word was more a groan than a anything else.
"Please, you need to wake up; sit up." The urgency in the young man’s voice brought her fully back to the present.
"Is my mother okay?" Miss Parker had no idea where this thought came from, but the possibility of losing her mother a second time made her sick. A hot wave of panic shot from her stomach through her whole body. It took her several seconds to realize that Alexander had said something to her again. She frantically tried to recall his words and to make a sense out of the sounds but failed miserably.
Alexander was a bit confused by Miss Parker’s reactions. From all he had seen and read of her, she was a brisk, decisive woman. She was usually a step ahead of the rest of the world. But he had tried for ages to wake her up, and now she didn’t seem to be able to concentrate on his words. Was she really that jet-lagged? Or was it the pregnancy? Something was obviously slowing her normally rapid recovery from shock. He repeated his assurances.
"Your mother is fine; don’t worry about her. You and the baby are also fine." He added before she could start to worry about that. "We have a different problem."
Alexander nervously stepped back and started to pace. He had no idea how he could tell her. At the time it had seemed like the right thing to do, the only thing to do, but after his short contact with Mr. White he knew he had made a big mistake. Damn what a mess.
Alexander was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Miss Parker had leaving her cot. She walked up behind him, thankful that his introspection had given her the element of surprise. She knew it was unlikely that he’d willingly go through with what she had planned. When he felt her hand on his shoulder he nearly jumped out of his skin, but before he could react further he felt her presence in his mind. It was completely different from the short contact he had with Mr. White; different from every other mental contact he had ever had.
It was not the usual invasion, more like a knock from a gentle hand, asking for permission to come in. Contrary to Parker’s expectations, Alexander was more than happy to share the thoughts he’d picked up from Mr. White with her. It was easier than trying to come up with the words to explain himself. He tried to relax completely, giving her access to all parts of his memory pertaining to his encounter with Mr. White. In fact, he was somewhat upset with himself because he hadn’t thought about this himself when he had tried to convince her earlier that he was on her side.
It only took Miss Parker a few seconds to see what Alexander had picked up from Mr. White and it took all her strength not to pull back in horror. Her first thought was to run and hide, but the rational part of her mind told her that there was no place where she could hide from this. Alexander was here because he needed her.
When Miss Parker had touched Alexander she hadn’t been sure it would lead her immediately to a mental contact as well. She was still surprised and amazed about this new ability. The big question was why she was suddenly able to do this. It had been easy to get the information from Alexander, but the contact had also frightened her. She would need a shield of some sort, or sooner or later she would go crazy receiving such a rush of information with every touch.
"Okay," Miss Parker finally stated thoughtfully. "I think we have to change your plans some."
Alexander relaxed, knowing that with Miss Parker on his side, helping him, they’d come up with some solution to this mess.
A cage is a cage, no matter how much gold you put on the bars. Jarod looked again around the apartment. Modern, elegant, expensive, it was easy to forget the reason why he was here.
God how had this all ended up this way? Jarod tried to find the moment where things had gone so terribly wrong. There must have been a moment, pivotal point in time, where his life had taken this turn. He hated this, his life and everything around it. It was always a struggle about control, power, money. He was tired of constantly fighting.
Jarod slumped into a big chair, not sure what to do now. He had been a prisoner his whole life, in one way or another. This was just another prison, although he had to admit it was one of the best he’d been in so far. The offer from Marion also wasn’t the worst he had ever received.
The only thing that really disturbed him was that he had no choice. Marion never really said what would happen to him if he refused this honor, but he had a pretty good idea of what might happen; this was the Centre, after all. True, it was in another country, under another name, but it was the same facility underneath.
How long would it take to escape here? Unlike the Centre, he had no friend, no Angelo to help. And, most importantly, they had two women who meant a lot to him. One of which he had believed died a long time ago. When he had seen her in that cabin it had been a real shock and it was only on their flight over here that he had finally been able to convince his mind that what he was seeing was the truth.
And there was Miss Parker, his--- What was she? He honestly had no idea. One time, long ago, she had been his friend. Things had been easy and clear at then. Now he had no idea where he stood. He knew what he was feeling, but he had no idea about Angelina’s feelings. She had lied to him and he still felt betrayed. He was sure she knew how much family meant to him, and she had to have known that in so many ways she was closer to him than family.
After he found out about the baby, he had confronted her, but she had pretended that she was not pregnant anymore. He would never forget how he’d felt in that moment. Jarod tried to ignore the little voice that told him that it was partly his fault as well, that he had failed her too, he hadn’t trusted her to come to him. But had she not made perfectly clear that she didn’t want him to be a part of her life? She wanted to go away and take his baby away as well. So was it wrong that he wished to have his child? He had the same rights, didn’t he? It was his child as well and...
Jarod shot up from his seat and started to pace. It wouldn’t be right to separate mother and child, but what if he had to make a decision? If he couldn’t rescue them both, maybe he could keep at least their child safe. But he knew this was a pipe dream. The cage might be nicer, but he and the child would be just as trapped here as they would have been at the Centre. Marion might be infatuated with him, but she wasn’t about to hand over the decision making to him. She had plans for the baby, much like the Centre had had for him. He couldn’t protect his child here. He had to escape, and it was time to do get started on it.
He had stopped at the big window and stared again at the Berlin skyline. It was a different angle than the office view, but no less impressive. A loud pop made him jump and turn around in a split of a second; thoughts about gunshots, silencers, and every possible scenario involving them playing over in his mind. But nothing prepared him for the sight in front of him.
Marion stood in the middle of the room, dressed only in a short dark red nightgown and a freshly opened bottle of champagne in her hand and a predatory smile on her carmine lips.
"You’ve found what, dear?" Karen asked, poking her head in from the kitchen where she and Debbie were making cookies.
"I’ve found the identity and locations of the Triumvirate." His grin was tinged with an understandable hint of smugness.
"I’ll call Frank and Emily." J.J. offered, his eyes glowing with anticipation.
Cracking the identity of the Triumvirate was the last task they needed, although Frank and Emily were out visiting a large law library in New York City to find any extra legal edge they could.
"Do that." Broots agreed. "I’m going to send an e-mail to the Major and Sam. I’m sure they’ll be able to pick it up somehow. I just wish we had a little more information on the Pagode to go along with our background on the Centre."
J.J. frowned, thinking of Sydney who was currently out on a long walk. Sydney had been unable to dig up any extra information on the Pagode, and he was feeling slightly inadequate to the current situation. After he’d warned Michele and Nicholas, and exhausted his resources in trying to ferret out facts about the other organization, he’d grown more and more withdrawn from the group.
J.J. felt a certain bond with the older man. Sydney had all but raised Jarod, his older brother, and he’d treated him with respect and kindness before Jarod had rescued him from the Centre. And J.J. knew that he’d have never been rescued at all if Sydney hadn’t leaked information to Jarod about his transfer. All in all, he was saddened by the other man’s obvious depression and wished he knew of a way to cheer him up.
"We’ll worry about the Pagode after we deal with the Centre, Broots." Karen said firmly. "J.J., I’ll call Emily and Frank, you find Sydney and let him know the good news. And tell him lunch is almost ready, okay?"
"Okay." J.J. agreed readily, happy to be moving. It was hard for the teenager to remain still for long periods of time, although he handled it better than most would. "Maybe we can pick up some ice cream for dessert." He added with a hopeful gleam in his eye as he headed for the front door.
As soon as the door closed behind him Karen fixed Broots with a stern look. "Not one word about the Pagode when they get back." She ordered him firmly, making him flush as he realized that his comment would have hurt Sydney deeply if the older man had been there to hear it.
"Of course, Karen." He agreed guiltily. "Thanks for reminding me."
Karen nodded once, an indulgent smile on her lips. Broots wasn’t insensitive, just oblivious. She returned to the kitchen to call Frank on his cell phone and bring them back in. Matters were coming to a head, and she, for one, could hardly wait for the Centre to be eliminated and life to become reasonably sane again.
"Sam, come here and look at this." The Major demanded, never taking his eyes from the glowing computer screen on the desk.
Angelo had helped them to "liberate" it from a storeroom, and while Sam waded through the hardcopy records Angelo had amassed, the Major probed the electronic maze of information stored in the Centre’s mainframes.
"What is it?" Sam asked, looking at the screen blankly.
"It’s a travel agenda. Raines left here early yesterday evening for Berlin. He took the albino with him. What do you suppose they were after?" Charles looked up at Sam, hope growing in his eyes.
"Has to be Jarod." Sam confirmed, easily picking out the orders for sedatives and restraints, now that he knew what he was looking at. "So, Jarod and Miss Parker are somewhere in Berlin?"
"That’s where the Pagode headquarters is." The Major agreed, trying to control the relief sweeping through him. Jarod, Catherine, and Parker’s abduction had weighed heavily on everyone, but they’d had no choice but to deal with the Centre first before trying to rescue the others. "I think that one of us should remain here in case Raines manages to actually get his hands on Jarod."
"Yes, but one of us also has to get this stuff out and back to the others. We’re ready, I think, to start taking out the Centre. In fact, with Mutumbo in residence, now is the perfect time to start the collapse." Sam suggested thoughtfully. The Major sighed.
"You know the Centre better than I do; you’d better stay. Angelo and I will take as much as we can and see to it that it reaches the proper authorities." He conceded regretfully. "Please, though, don’t resume the hostilities if he does get brought back here." He added wryly.
Sam’s returning grin was just as wry.
"Don’t worry. Now that I don’t have to answer to Lyle I don’t have any need to insult your son. I’ll be gentle, I promise."
The Major laughed at that, and began gathering together silver disks of information and files of the most damning evidence they had found. Matters were going to come to a head, and he was going to be ready for it.
Jarod’s momentary sensation of calm shattered at the sight of the provocative woman in front of him. His stomach plummeted sickeningly as he realized that his grace period was over; this time she wouldn’t take "wait" for an answer. The nightgown only barely concealed her lush assets, plunging deeply in the front and floating gently only to the very start of her thighs. Marion’s blue eyes glittered with satisfaction as she stared at the nervous man in front of her. She knew it was time to put her particular gift into play----her ability to "push" a person into seeing things her way. It wasn’t as flashy as his Pretender gift, or as unusual as the Parker women’s telepathy, but it had served her well in the past. She had no reason to believe that it would fail her now.
A little champagne, a some small talk, a few nudges with her mind, and Jarod would be hers. She could hardly wait. His decent nature called to the wary little girl in her; the girl who had always known that she’d only been wanted by her foster parents for her ability to push. She knew that once she convinced Jarod that she was desirable, however, that he’d never forsake her. And he was so adorably male in addition!
"Come, sit by me, lover." She chuckled, deep in her throat and snuggled onto the plush, red velvet bedspread.
"Ahhh," Jarod’s mind froze as he tried to come up with an excuse, any excuse, not to comply.
"Time’s up, lover." Marion insisted, a hint of irritation coming into her voice. Didn’t he realize what an honor she offered him?
"Of course." Jarod muttered hollowly, moving reluctantly closer to the blond. His mind raced. What should he do? What should he do?
"Have a glass." Marion told him, making him wonder for one shocked moment if she’d read his mind.
"Thank you." He gulped the bubbly liquid desperately, and then sneezed and the wine tickled his nose.
"Sip it, silly." Marion smirked.
"Sorry." Jarod mumbled. "Never had…" His voice trailed off uncertainly as the drug Marion had put into the champagne hit his bloodstream.
"What? What did you?" He was suddenly finding it difficult to think coherently, and he wondered who’d turned up the heat in the room as Marion’s skimpy outfit teased him with glimpses of more flesh than he was prepared to deal with. She took the alcohol and glasses to the table in front of the couch, and returned, deliberately making the nightgown swing and slide suggestively.
"Just a little something to relax you." She murmured, giving him a nearly complete view of her breasts as she leaned over to nibble on his ear. His heart pounded and the room tilted dizzyingly, but he tried manfully to hang on to his control and push her away. Instead of her shoulder, however, his hand pressed into something soft, and he lost track of his thoughts when she giggled joyfully and pushed him back onto the bed.
"Now," she purred, "isn’t this better?"
He tried desperately to remember why it wasn’t as she leaned down to capture his lips.
‘Parker!’ He thought fuzzily. ‘Something about Parker. Something important.’ He was loosing the battle against Marion’s determined attack on his virtue when an inarticulate screech sounded from the doorway.
"Get away from him you peroxide harpy!"
’Funny! That sounds just like---‘
"Who let you out of your cell?" Marion growled, jumping to her feet. Jarod lay were he was, his eyes crossing as he tried to comprehend what was happening.
"You listen to me, you little----" Jarod dimly heard the sound of a slap and suddenly the room was filled with the sounds of battle.
"Jarod is mine!" He finally heard Parker explain, slightly breathlessly.
"Parker." He sighed contentedly. She moved over to glare at him and he smiled cherubically.
"I love you." He volunteered happily. "Always have." Parker’s glare faltered slightly and then sharpened again as she realized his condition.
"She drugged you!" Parker exclaimed irritably.
"Yep." Jarod agreed cheerfully. "You saved me." His eyes were wide and round, like an awed little boy. "You love me too."
"You wish!" Parker grumbled, looking over to the doorway. "How are we going to get him out of here like this?" She demanded of the two people in the doorway.
"He can walk." Alexander answered with a measure of reluctance. "He’ll pretty much do anything you want him to until the drug wears off."
"Will he?" Parker looked at Jarod speculatively.
"No, dear." Catherine restrained whatever impulse had come over her daughter gently. "We have to get away, remember?"
"What about her?" Parker asked sourly, looking at the motionless Marion on the floor. "We’d better take her with us." Alexander suggested quickly. "If she’s with us there will be no one left to organize a pursuit." His look at Marion was faintly protective.
"Fine." Parker agreed acidly, glaring at the unconscious woman. "Just keep her away from me."
She tugged on Jarod’s arm, slightly mollified when he rose readily to his feet and stood passively beside her, waiting for direction.
"Come on, Lover Boy." She told him, some of her rancor fading at his obvious helplessness. "Let’s get your genius back where it belongs---in the States."
"Okay." Jarod agreed, a glazed smile on his face.
Once again a speculative gleam entered Parker’s eyes.
"No, dear." Catherine said to her daughter again. "Escape, remember?"
Parker sighed in disappointment and began guiding Jarod out of the room as Alexander wrapped Marion into an afghan and swung her into his arms to follow.
They stumbled into the growing evening twilight; Alexander, carrying Marion over his shoulder, Miss Parker, guiding the weaving and dazed Jarod, and Catherine bringing up the rear. The two men who’d been waiting for any sign of movement from the darkened building moved quickly in to action.
"A car should be here soon." Alexander mumbled, his attention focused on his unconscious employer, who was growing far heavier than he would have ever believed she could.
"Why not take mine?" A new voice asked amicably. "It’s pulling up right now." Mr. White smiled quietly as he gestured to the three startled refugees with his handgun.
Parker’s blue gaze narrowed as she focused longingly on the gun. Catherine’s brow furrowed with concern, and then smoothed as she fixed her mask of calm over her patrician features. Alexander just sighed. He’d known that trusting someone from the Centre would turn out to be a big mistake! And Mr. White’s limousine pulled up to the curb, a relieved and smug Mr. Raines waiting in the passenger seat by the driver.
"Do get in." White urged firmly. "The plane’s waiting for us, and you know how tense pilots can get when they’re kept waiting."
Catherine intercepted her daughter’s sudden movement towards White, knowing that an attempt to overcome the man right now would be nothing sort of suicide.
"Let me help you there, dear." She said quietly, grabbing Jarod from the other side and propelling him towards the car. With Jarod in motion, Parker had no choice but to follow.
"Mother!" Parker hissed angrily.
"Not now, dear." Catherine answered serenely. "We can talk on the way home; privately." She stressed the final word with a mental nudge at her daughter.
Parker, still unused to her newfound ability, looked a little like she’d just swallowed a bug, but followed her mother’s lead. Alexander smiled warmly. He, of course, had caught Catherine’s nudge too, and suspected he knew what the older woman was thinking. He caught her eye and nodded slightly, conveying his approval and support.
Alexander wiggled into the limo first, somehow managing to get himself and Marion onto the seat behind the chauffeur, facing the trunk. Parker maneuvered Jarod in next, and slid in beside him, checking to make sure the door beside him was firmly locked and belting the still bemused man in place. Now that she’d rescued him from the scarlet tipped claws of the blond harpy in front of her, she didn’t want to risk losing him to a stupid move he might make in his drug induced haze. Catherine, after one last measuring look at Mr. White, slid in next to her daughter, and Mr. White slid in next to Alexander last. He was the only one in the back with a gun, but he seemed supremely confident anyway.
As soon as the car was in motion Alexander leaned forward and put his hand on Parker’s knee.
:Take your mother’s hand so we can all talk privately.: He thought to her, following up moments later with; "Don’t worry, Miss Parker, the drug will wear off of your friend in a few hours."
"I don’t know where my mother is." Jarod answered Alexander’s unspoken communication plaintively. "I look and I look, but I just can’t find her."
The three telepaths looked quite startled, but to their relief, Mr. White seemed to take his comment in stride; apparently believing it was a product of the drug Alexander had just mentioned. Parker clasped her mother’s hand, as if for comfort, and instantly the three were aware of each other’s thoughts.
:We’ve got to overpower them, somehow.: Parker said decisively. Jarod stirred, as if to speak, and she shushed him mentally. :Go to sleep dear.: She urged, and imitating her mother’s trick with her, although she wasn’t aware of it, she nudged Jarod into a deep sleep.
:I don’t see how we can without one of us getting seriously hurt..: Alexander returned practically. Unspoken, but implied in a way that only a mental communication could manage was Mr. White’s gun.
:I don’t see why we should.: Catherine countered quite calmly. :We want to go to the States, and they want to take us there. Much better to wait for an opportunity on the plane ride back. I think that we can manage something then, when their guards are down.:
:What about her.: Parker’s thought dripped disgust and was obviously directed at Marion.
:You’re right dear, she will be a problem.: Catherine conceded thoughtfully. :However, I know of a way to put a leash on her.:
:What? Is it painful?:
Perhaps Parker could be forgiven for the tinge of glee that thought brought her. Catherine smiled involuntarily.
:It won’t hurt her in any lasting way.: She reassured Alexander, who sincerely cared about Marion. :But if she tries to use her ability to "push" it will give her a migraine headache.:
:I suppose it is for the best.: Alexander sighed mentally.
"I’d like to take a look at Marion." Catherine told Mr. White out loud. "I’m afraid my daughter hit her pretty hard."
Parker smirked with satisfaction and fixed her cold glare on White; promising him silently that she’d hit him even harder if the opportunity arose.
"Go ahead." White agreed grudgingly. "But we aren’t stopping at any hospitals on the way."
Parker leaned back and closed her eyes, letting herself really think about the events of the past week, while her mother worked her "magic" on Marion. It had begun on such a sour note, she remembered with more than a touch of sorrow, with Jarod’s rage and her lies. They were lies that she believed were for the best, but that didn’t make the pain they left behind any less. Somehow, between the lies, the threats and accusations, and the continual predicaments that kept arising in the middle of their personal crisis, she had managed to back herself in a corner where Jarod was concerned. And after Marion’s determined pursuit of the man that she finally realized belonged to her and her alone, Parker also realized that she didn’t want to fight him anymore.
But how could she mend her fences with him now? The words they’d thrown at each other were horrible and the wounds they’d left behind were still bleeding. And, since she was being honest with herself she decided she’d better be completely honest; apologies were not her strong suite.
:Just talk to the man, dear.: Her mother’s soothing advice sounded in her mind. :He’s a good man, he’ll listen. If you two start talking, instead of hurling verbal knives at each other, you’ll reach an understanding together.:
:But what if all he wants is the baby, Momma?: She revealed her greatest fear to her mother, tears welling behind her closed lids and trickling down her cheeks. :What if he really doesn’t care about me at all?:
:Don’t be silly, Angelina.: Catherine chided her daughter gently. :You two did not make a child without some feelings for each other. You care about him, and you know that he cares about you. Don’t let your insecurities rob you of the joy you could have.:
With that, her mother leaned back and also closed her eyes, leaving Alexander to be the only one of the party who watched the threatening Mr. White. It wouldn’t do for them all to surrender easily, he knew, that would simply put Mr. White more on the alert than he’d been before. So he watched, and brooded, and made sure their captor noticed him watching and brooding. The silence was thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Broots!" Karen’s voice was so panicky that Broots raced to the kitchen without a moment’s thought. Nothing could have prevented the fragmented images of certain doom that flashed through his mind, though. Images of Sweepers bursting through the kitchen door, or some Centre-owned policeman looming over his sister-in-law. None of them, however, involved Karen sitting white-faced at the kitchen table with her phone held to one ear by a shaking hand. Debbie sat across from her aunt, her eyes wide and frightened while she watched her aunt’s palpable fear.
"What is it, Karen?" Broots asked apprehensively. Karen’s eye’s filled with tears as she handed the phone to him wordlessly.
As Broots managed a tentative, "Hello?" Debbie flew from her spot at the table and into her aunt’s arms. She was both seeking and giving comfort, and she still didn’t know what had frightened her strong minded relative. From the safety of Karen’s arms she saw her father’s face pale too.
"Please repeat that?" Broots asked. His voice was admirably firm, and even though his face had paled, it had settled into grim lines of determination; something that wouldn’t have happened a week earlier. His days of timidity were on their way out---his boldness in rescuing his daughter had been the first step towards his own measure of courage and self-confidence.
"I see." Broots managed, his lips tight. "No, Mutumbo, we will not be waiting for your goons. You will not harm either my brother or Emily, because if you do, we will immediately release all of the information we’ve gathered on the Centre’s activities and its employees. Yes, that means you. We have hardcopies of your business files. I suggest that if you are not clever enough to release our loved ones, that you at least cover your ass by treating them VERY well." With that, he disconnected the call, managing to mask his shaking so as not to frighten Debbie more.
"We’re leaving, right now." He told Karen firmly. "Where are Sydney and JJ?"
Karen opened her mouth, but before she could answer the phone rang again. The three frightened people stared at it apprehensively before Broots picked it up on the third ring.
"Hello?" If possible, his face got even grimmer. "Can’t do that, Syd." He responded after a few moments. "Just make sure to remind Mutumbo of what we’ve got on the Centre. That should keep you guys alive until we can figure out what else to do. Take care."
Broots’ voice cracked a little with that last statement, but he hung up the phone without hesitation.
"Karen, grab every piece of evidence we have with us---we’re going to need it. Debbie, grab your coat and your sleeping bag. We’re leaving; now!"
But as rapidly as they moved, they were still greeted by the sight of a Centre "Cleaner" van pulling up in front of the house as they prepared to leave. Broots hustled them back inside and jammed a chair desperately under the doorknob.
"This way, Broots!" Karen finally shook off the paralysis the news of her husband’s capture had brought her and pulled on Broots’ arm insistently. "Frank always said this day might come. We have, as melodramatic as it sounds, a secret exit. Come on!"
Broots, at his wits end with this latest threat to himself and his family, allowed Karen to take over. She hustled them down the basement stairs to the family room, pausing only to throw the metal bar locking the basement door behind them. Since it barred the door across the middle, it would undoubtedly buy them several extra minutes of time while they cut the door away around it.
In the family room, Karen rushed over to the entertainment center and pulled three books halfway out of place on the shelves next to the television. Debbie grinned and Broots gasped as the entire entertainment center swung away from the wall.
"Go, go!" Karen all but pushed them into the dark corridor. She turned as she entered behind them and pushed a red, palm sized button on the wall. The shelving swung shut behind them, leaving the three in total darkness.
"Now what?" Broots asked, his voice hushed in the utter blackness.
"Just a sec." Karen responded, rustling around in the dark. A moment later a strong flashlight beam appeared, catching Broots briefly directly in the face, and dazzling all of their dark-adjusted eyes.
"Okay," She went on, not bothering with an apology for Broots’ momentary blindness. "There are supplies loaded in a RV that’s been hidden at the end of this corridor, but it’s going to be a long hike. I’m guessing that we’ll reach the end just about the same time they figure out that there’s another exit to the family room. If we hustle, we’ll be long gone before they have any clue where we went. I take it you’ve got some plan for getting the others back from the Centre?"
She added the last with a razor sharp look at Broots that irresistibly reminded him of Miss Parker. For just a minute that reminder made his throat close up with grief that he hadn’t found the time to acknowledge, much lest vent.
"Not yet." He finally managed, clearing the lump from his throat with a cough. "But I’m working on it---and as far as we know, the Major and Sam are still free. It isn’t over yet." He finished, his voice ringing with determination and defiance by the end of his little speech.
"Good enough." Karen nodded, her face grim as she firmly held back her own grief. "We’ll be able to try to contact the others from the RV. It has a computer with a wireless modem onboard."
The three fugitives scurried down the corridor, Karen in the lead with the light, Debbie in the middle, and Broots bringing up the rear, the gun he and his daughter hated so much held firmly in his hand. As far as they knew, their little freedom force was down to them, but somehow that just strengthened their resolve to see the Centre destroyed once and for all.
To be continued…
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