Matt sat on the tan couch that had been positioned against the wall in the living room, leaning against the back and relaxing. The quite solitude he was in held an iron-like coldness to it, but he didn’t mind or notice. Instead, he was thinking, thinking in the depths of his mind about whatever would approach.
Something wasn’t right with the little group of ex-Rockets, he had decided that from the moment Mike had mentioned Felicity’s name. It wasn’t knowledge, just intuition, strong intuition. He had felt the doubt of the place when the name was mentioned, had felt the pressure in it.
What that ‘something’ was wasn’t quite clear to him, but he expected it had something to do with the young woman. He wanted to find out, and found that he was in fact determined to find out, because if something went wrong, it could cave in and trap all of them.
All of them including Ginger. And he couldn’t stand for that; he just couldn’t let anything happen to her. After all, he had promised that he would watch out for her until things smoothed out.
Usually, he reflected, she was a smart girl, quickly understanding and determining what was to be done about a situation. That mental readiness had earned her standing on the team. Apparently, though, the edge had been dulled by the events that had been occurring, and Ginger wasn’t as alert as always.
If she wasn’t alert, she was more liable to trip on one of those ‘holes’ by making a slight mistake or miscalculation, and be brought down. He’d seen it happen to perfectly good agents. It was terrible, and he wasn’t about to let it happen here.
Not to any of them, if he could help it.
The silence around him sat in the stagnant air, as if waiting to be interrupted. Matt didn’t notice, or just plain didn’t care. His eyes stared blankly across the room, and when a few strands of his hair fell forward toward his forehead, he left them there.
He knew that he could be putting himself in danger by staying in the house, knew that just as he had known there was a danger nearby. Thinking deeper, however, he felt a strange intuition that he would be harmed some other way than physically…
Shaking his head roughly, the young man dismissed the thoughts. There was too much to do to be worrying incessantly. He’d leave that shit to Trae.
If anything was to be done about the team, organization would be required, as well as cooperation from more people than he had to work with. He knew it could be done; of course it was definitely possible. And he was willing to work for it.
He had a feeling, judging by the work that these agents had put in, they wanted the team to band together, too. Why else would they be bothering to help the trial?
Sitting in the dead of night, he didn’t even realize that there was someone else in the room until she spoke up. “Matt?”
Raising his head quickly, Matt saw Shadow standing in the doorway to the room, her fiery blue eyes tinted with sleeplessness and her brown-blond hair disarranged. She walked into the room with a sort of half-tired walk, than sat down in a chair across from him.
“Shadow,” he had tried to make it something besides a statement, but that’s what it came out as. It seemed to him that most of his questions came out as statements. “You’re still awake.” With a slight bit of anger, he nearly hit himself for doing it again.
“Yeah,” she sighed, nodded her head, and leaned back with a dull grunt. “Sleep just doesn’t seem to want to come to me tonight.”
Laughing slightly, he nodded. “Same here.”
They stared across at each other for a few moments before Shadow broke the encompassing silence. “So… how’s it been?”
Matt raised an eyebrow slightly, sensing an underlying question. Shadow was trying to get at something else, and he figured he knew what it was. She wanted to know he was here. “Might as well let her ask you herself,” part of his mind spoke, but he ignored it, going by his instincts once more.
“If you mean ‘why am I here,’ you can just ask me,” he spoke with his usual soft tone, but realized he was treating her like his ‘patients’ again.
“Uh, yeah, I guess I was getting to that…” Shadow appeared only slightly startled, although there was a look of annoyance beneath her.
“Look, Shadow, I’m sorry,” Matt sighed deeply. “It’s just that I can’t seem to talk to anyone without going into that interrogation phase.”
“Anyone except Ginger,” Shadow grinned broadly, and snickered. Matt joined in, nodding.
“Yeah, except Ginger.”
For a few moments they once again just sat in the silence, beginning to enjoy its warm gentleness. Then it was broken again, this time by Matt. “I suppose I should tell you the reason I’m here.”
“You really don’t have to…” she began, shaking her head to that the tousled hair whipped around her eyes.
“I will anyway,” he spoke with resolve. “I came here because, well, you’re going to need some help getting the team together…”
“How’d you know about that” Shadow suddenly, surprising Matt slightly.
“Know about what?” he asked, without the faintest idea of what she was referring to. “I had be guessing that you were trying to get together again.” He paused for a moment, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he continued. “Apparently, I was correct.”
“Yeah… you just startled me there,” she looked up again, and this time the smile was gone. “Before he was sent to prison, Giovanni gave Dan a letter where he told us that he wanted us to rebuild the team, and knew it could be done.”
Matt nodded. “Yes… did he say anything else?”
“Not much that I can remember,” Shadow shook her head.
“Do you have it?” the look on Matt’s face was eager.
“No…” the girl considered for a moment, than her face brightened. “Ginger took it.”
“Of course, how stupid can I be,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes at himself.
“Realllllllll stupid,” Shadow laughed quietly, and Matt managed a mock snarl at her.
“Look who’s talking.”
This caused her to break into louder bursts of giggling, and he just looked over at her. At least one of them seemed to be handling the situation well. She was getting along fine with what was happening, dealing with it in her own way. It was an admirable trait, and one that could be useful for a high position on a team…
“Matt?” Shadow was looking at him, still smiling.
“Yeah?”
“Good night,” she started upstairs, than looked back. “And thanks.”
“Night,” he waved to her as she walked out, than laughed at himself.
The whole reason she had been downstairs was to see if he knew anything, he could tell right away. She wanted to help the team, that much was clear. That much was good, too.
“Now if the rest of them will…” he thought, than stood up and stretched.
It was going to be a long night, he realized, and he wasn’t going to get any sleep. After he was sure of that, he headed out of the room, and to the staircase.
He walked slowly up the old wooden stairs, making as little noise as possible. The silence was once again ensuing upon the house, and he breed quietly with it. When he had reached the top, he walked down the hall to the large double doors, and opened them again.
Moonlight streamed through the window in soft, pale beams, landing on Ginger’s bed. She lay on it, still sleeping, though she had apparently been restless as the blankets were crumpled. Matt looked at her for at least a minute, though it seemed to his mind like only seconds, letting his eyes run through her thick, silky hair and over her pale skin.
With an effort, he managed to pull himself away and walk across the soft carpet to the large desk. Lying upon it were several objects scattered about. There was a book that he discarded his sight from immediately as unimportant, a glass paperweight, the dagger he had given her for her birthday two years before, and, next to the knife, a folded up piece of paper.
Quickly, he reached for it, opened it, and read the top line quietly in the large room. “To Ginger, Shadow, Daniel, Michael, Felicity, Trae, and any other faithful Rocket…” he looked up momentarily, the moonlight seeping into his deep eyes. “This is it.”
While he stood in the back of the room, he read the letter by moonlight, than folded it up and replaced it carefully where he had found it. So it was all true, Giovanni had spoken to revitalize the team, had even spoken for the need of a new boss.
Turning back towards the door, he started out of the room, than stopped and looked back at the bed. Ginger had begun to shake her head against the covers, though he was certain she was still asleep. “Don’t do it…” she was muttering thickly, and he listened with concern as well as a slight interest. “Please, don’t, you can’t… DAMNIT NO!!!!!”
Matt felt something inside of him freeze with the words, and realized that something in what she had said had managed to freak him, or at least part of him, out. There was a deep passion in those words, even though they had only been sleep talk, and for a moment he wondered if she would continue.
When she fell silent, he shook his head slightly. Of course they hadn’t meant anything, he was foolish to believe so.
“I didn’t want to go…” she murmured with finality, causing him to turn his head, and sigh.
“I really hope it didn’t mean anything,” he shook his head and slipped silently out the door.
Chapter 18
Felicity strode through the cold air, barely feeling the chill of it.
While in the café she had found an idea in the back of her mind, a way to
start a possibly catastrophic chain of events.
She had first realized that what she wanted was to kill, plain and simple.
To kill those fools who called themselves Rockets, even if it meant danger.
Felicity could live with danger, and she knew it. She was fine living in a
world where, at any minute, she could be shot or cut open. For her it was a
game.
As she neared the house, it occurred to her that she could be killed
easily. One slip-up and she was done for. One slip-up, and it would be her
loss, her death. These thoughts were easily pushed aside by her hardened
mind, and she continued on without stopping.
She felt a shiver of excitement. The house was in sight, and she could see
the door. Straining her eyes slightly, she could also see something else. It
was a black car, parked in the driveway.
Something about the car struck her as familiar, and as she approached it
she realized why. The car belonged to Matthew Berchack, an agent she had
known somewhat, and one she considered dangerous.
There was a light on in the living room, and before she knew it Felicity
had already put together the two. Matt was probably sitting up in the living
room, waiting for something, probably for her. She didn’t put it past him to
know something like that.
Stepping into the cool, uncut grass, the young woman looked at the front
door, discarding it as a way of entrance immediately. If Matt were in the
front room, he’d have questions. Questioning wasn’t something Felicity had
time for, and she knew it.
Instead she headed around the house, stopping at the kitchen window. The
window had been open last time she checked… It had been, in fact, her that
opened it. Once when she had gone out, no one had unlocked the door to let
her in, and she had been forced to wait outside.
After that, she had unlocked the window, hoping no one would notice and
lock it.
As she shoved the window up, she realized with a sort of relief she barely
noticed that it would open, and looked inside.
There was no sign of life in the kitchen. The lights were out, the counter
was clean, even the coffee pot wasn’t running. Smiling grimly, she slipped
in through the window, crouching on the counter, and closing the window
behind her.
Sliding off the counter with cat-like agility, she hit the floor silently,
than turned to look at where she had come in, considered for a moment, than
locked the window. As she looked away, she saw that she had left dirty
footprints on the counter. “Have fun cleaning that, Trae,” she laughed
shortly, than remembered that she wasn’t going to give the bitch a chance to
do that.
Silently, she crept out of the kitchen. She peered down the hall
momentarily, and though she heard no movement from the other room, she was
convinced Matt was in there, waiting. “He won’t have long to wait…” she
thought. With that, she set up the stairs, avoiding the squeaky boards.
The hall was lit by a moonbeam, a soft light that conveyed a sense of
peacefulness. A sense that would soon be broken, or so Felicity hoped. There
wasn’t much in her life she had hoped for, so she often forgot there was
such a thing. When she felt it, though, she knew she had to do it.
It was a force, pulling her toward her goal, helping her to strain ever
forward, to work for what she could. There was a sort of need in hope, she
had discovered, at least when hope is rarely felt.
At that moment, standing in the dusty hall, she felt hope for what she was
going to do to come out right, and felt compelled to make it work out, no
matter what.
She walked to the nearest door on the left and pulled it open slowly. It
squeaked slightly, and she cringed at the noises, half-fearing that Trae
would awaken, than relaxed as she heard a faint snore float from the bed.
“She’d probably sleep through a storm,” Felicity laughed to herself, but
inside she hoped it wasn’t true.
What she intended to give the girl was a storm, a storm of her own. And she
wanted Trae to be awake and conscious for it.
Slinking across the room, Felicity stood by the bed and looked down at the
former scientist. Trae looked as though she had passed out, would’ve even
fooled Felicity if she hadn’t been snoring so loud.
With a sly smile, Felicity reached beneath her unbuttoned top shirt,
feeling the gun in its holster. It was a revolver, an almost ridiculously
loud piece of weaponry, but a painful one.
Besides, she wanted the others to see her. If they saw, they would follow.
If they followed, she could kill. And kill was, again, what she wanted.
“Hey, Trae, rise and shine,” Felicity chirped happily.
The girl simply rolled over slightly, completely unaware that there was a
woman standing by the edge of her bed, a woman who was becoming completely
insane.
“Trae, we don’t like sleepyheads,” she half-hissed, and again received no
response.
“Wake up!” she reached out and held Trae’s nose between two of her fingers
tightly, squeezing off the air supply.
“What in the world?” Trae bolted up, only to find herself looking into
Felicity’s icy eyes.
“Your world is coming to an end,” Felicity laughed, pointing the gun at
Trae’s leg and shooting.
The shot was loud, deafening, almost, and Felicity heard the sound of
footsteps coming. Almost time to go…
Trae was writhing in pain, feeling an anguish she had never known. Her leg
had become nothing but a glob of oozing blood, dripping onto the bed in
satin-colored drops, and she alternated between grabbing it, picking her
hands up and seeing the blood, and screaming.
“Goodnight,” the older girl raised the gun.
“Why?” Trae stammered, straining to make her speech legible. These words,
her last words, were choked and afraid.
“Because I felt like it,” Felicity shrugged, and pulled the trigger.
This time, Trae’s forehead disappeared in a thick cloud of red blood. The
girl fell forward, strange croaking sounds emitting from her throat as blood
poured over the bed.
The woman walked calmly over to the large window and slammed the butt of
her gun into it, shattering the thick glass. “She was foolish to have real
glass…” her mind ignored the fact that they hadn’t even had the house long
enough to replace the windows.
As she was slipping the gun into its holster, the door swung open, and the
group of her old ‘friends’ stood there, led by Matt. “Felicity…” one, she
thought it was Dan, gasped. “What happened?”
“Oh, you know…” she turned around. “Murder.”
She heard someone drag out a gun as she leapt out of the window, but
ignored it. When she saw Dan’s face in the window, she saluted, than headed
for the sidewalk.
“Now if they’ll follow me…” she thought gleefully. For her, it was a good
night, and she guessed that they would.
Next chapters n/a 8.8
