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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Lyrics by Duran Duran and Evanescence.
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"Don't let us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter." -Oliver Goldsmith
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“Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos - your reality... I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge- the nightmare I built my own world to escape... Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming- cannot cease for the fear of silent nights... Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming... In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me....
Water spilled over him as he struggled to sit upright in the small tub. The liquid hydration cascaded over the edge, splashing onto the floor. His head ached and his neck throbbed as though he had been sleeping for an eternity.
Hehehe.
What was that?
He-he.
He pulled himself out of the basin. His foot stepped into a pool of water- the floor felt like ice. He shivered as his soggy clothing clung to his body, chilling him to the core. He searched the room. Maybe they left him a change of clothes.
For you? Feh, not a chance!
What was that?
There were no clothes. He knew there wouldn’t be.
Hehe…Haha.
He stood in the center of the room, rooted to the spot. Where was that coming from? He shook his head as though to rid himself of the laugh. His mind was still foggy as he scanned the room, uncertain of what he was looking for. A glimmer of reflected light caught his eye. On the far wall of the austere room hung a small square mirror. Memories slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He staggered backwards.
The laughter reverberated in his head until he could bear it no more.
No!
Yes! They hissed.
There was silence.
The giggle began first, then the chant.
Monster, monster, monster!
No! No! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Yes! We win again! We always win!
He whimpered fearfully.
Kill, kill, kill, kill!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Meeting you with a view to a kill…”
She was standing on a street corner outside of a coffee shop when he first saw her. She seemed impatient for the light to change so she could cross the busy intersection. Her dress was sloppy, torn and tattered blue jeans, a faded denim jacket over a black t-shirt. She was no fashionista, but she was a looker.
Though he preferred Asian women, Lyle was quite sure that he could develop a taste for Irish colleens- at least this one. He turned his thoughts back to the task at hand. The girl he was watching certainly fit the physical description of Amelia- 5’7”, approximately 117 pounds, red hair, gray eyes. Lyle frowned. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting the Seventh Member to look like, but this wasn’t it. The girl was frail and looked positively lost.
He couldn’t see why the Triumvirate had made it seem as though she was a difficult one to locate. He had found her within a matter of hours after arriving in the City.
Unless it’s a diversionary tactic, he thought darkly. To keep me busy while Dad and Parker conspire together.
What a disappointment the hunt had turned out to be. Lyle also couldn’t see what use she could be to him much less to the Centre.
Then again, things aren’t always what they appear to be, he reminded himself.
“Face to face in secret places, feel the chill...”
She darted across the street at the first opportunity. Her pace didn’t slow once she was on the other side. She continued to jog down the street. It was dusk already and she hated to be out after dark- that’s when all the freaks and creeps came out from under their rocks.
Mia brushed a lock of hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her eyes. She glanced nervously around at her surroundings and quickened her pace. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. She had a small studio apartment on York Avenue- she knew that much. However, she was having difficulty remembering how to get there. Mia sighed. She had been having a lot of problems with her memory lately and those problems seemed to be getting worse.
She pulled her thin jacket tighter around her narrow shoulders. Fall was definitely setting in with winter close on its tail. Strangely, Mia could not remember what a New York winter was like, even though she knew she had been in one before.
“Nightfall covers me, but you know the plans I'm making…”
Lyle watched her with mild perplexity. He found it peculiar that she appeared uncertain of her way, though her record indicated she had lived in the City for two years.
Strange…
He remained always a step behind her, though at times he was so close that he could smell the coffee that still lingered on her clothes and in her hair. In her growing bewilderment, she failed to realize that she was, indeed, being followed.
She came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to Bagel Bob’s on 86 and York. York…the street name seemed vaguely familiar. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and that it wanted something more substantial than gourmet coffee. Mia stuck her hand inside the front pocket of her jeans. Change jangled inside as her hand closed on a few bills. Bagel Bob’s was cheap enough that she could at least get a small dinner.
She pushed the door of the diner open and felt the warm air kiss her icy nose and the balmy aroma of baking bread wrapped its delicious fragrance around her and invited her in. She sighed dreamily as she imagined as a cozy country kitchen with a grandmother inside cooking homemade breads and other goodies. The ring of the cash registers and shouting of patrons shattered her daydream. Mia took a place at the end of the shortest line that was still very long.
“Until we dance into the fire. That fatal kiss is all we need. Dance into the fire, to fatal sounds of broken dreams…”
She didn’t see him follow her into the bagel shop or step in line right behind her. She didn’t see him lean in close to her or feel him lightly finger her tied up hair. She was completely unaware of his presence, too lost in her own thoughts to notice much of anything.
He snickered silently to himself.
Perhaps she never would have seen him if she hadn’t accidentally elbowed him as she reached into her pocket for a second time.
She jumped as she spun around. Her eyes were wide in surprise, enormous with apology. A thin hand flew to her open mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, not able to look directly into his piercing gaze. “I’m such a klutz.”
“Not all,” he smiled, barely touching her jacket sleeve. “I shouldn’t have been so close. The crowd you know…” he said, as though to excuse his nearness.
“Of course,” her voice was so soft that it was difficult to hear it over the din of business. Her eyes remained chained to the floor, but feeling his intense gaze, crimson flooded her cheeks. She turned back towards the counter.
Obviously, she was quite taken by him. He chuckled under his breath. Of course, she was. Who wouldn’t be?
“Choice for you is the view to a kill. Between the shades, assassination standing still...”
Her hands shook as she reached into her pocket once more, being painstakingly careful not to bump the man behind her again. Her cheeks flushed for a second time as the memory of his azure eyes and handsome face flashed into her head. And that wasn’t all she had noticed about him. It was impossible not to observe how well he was dressed. An expensive suit, probably Armani, a deep scarlet silk shirt and matching tie, Italian leather shoes. What on earth was he doing in Bagel Bob’s? He belonged somewhere far ritzier, like Azalea Ristorante.
“What’ll yer have?”
Mia started slightly when the cashier spoke. What was with her today…she was so jumpy all of a sudden.
“Uh…” she stared up at the menu. She looked more at the prices than at the actual items. The scent of the food was making her mouth water- it all smelled so good! “Lemme have the cinnamon raisin walnut bagel and the roast beef Bobwich.”
The man behind the counter tallied up her order. “That’er be 5.75.”
Mia counted over the currency in her hand. Again color spread over her noble features. She had made an error in her math and did not have enough to cover the meal.
“Maybe I’ll just have the bagel,” she whispered, ashamed of making such a stupid mistake.
The man seemed annoyed, but said nothing.
Her order came up quick and Mia hurriedly paid him and moved away from the counter. She dreaded going back out into the cold night, so she chose a table in a secluded corner of the diner to eat her meager dinner. She sat with her back to the crowd and held the bagel under her nose, taking in its luscious odor. She sighed and closed her eyes, weary from a long day at work.
The sound of a tray being set on a table caused her to open her eyes. She was astonished to find the handsome stranger, whom she had so rudely bumped in line, taking a seat across from her. He smiled warmly at her, a smile that made her feel…well, sick inside actually…but not in a bad way.
He said nothing as he took a plate off of his tray and sat it in front of her. Mia’s eyes enlarged when she saw the Roast Beef Bobwich on the plate- the very sandwich she couldn’t afford.
“You look like you could stand to put on a few pounds,” was all he said about the food.
Mia’s jaw opened and shut, but no words came out.
“You don’t mind me sitting here, do you?” he looked genuinely concerned that he might have offended her. He started to get up. “I should have asked first.”
Mia’s heart raced and she felt like a social misfit, not knowing what to say or do.
“You’re fine,” she assured him, though not without her voice trembling. She glanced up to see him sitting down again. His eyes caught hers and she found his cobalt gaze hypnotic and impossible to look away from. She ducked her head, wishing she had worn her hair down so that she could hide behind it as she often did. She stared at the sandwich.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
The stranger smiled.
Dance into the fire when all we see... is the view to a kill...”
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Miss Parker ran into Broots in the hall as she was stepping out of her office…literally.
“Are you blind?!” she barked hotly, giving him a scathing look.
Broots didn’t bother to inform her that the collision was actually her fault. He knew better. Miss Parker was in an even worse mood than normal because no headway had been made in either Jarod’s case or the Seventh Member Project.
“Well?” Parker raised an eyebrow. “Don’t just stand there, move!”
Broots seriously considered walking away.
“Actually, I came to see you.”
Parker held up a hand to prevent him from saying anything further. She glanced up and down the corridor suspiciously before grabbing Broots by the shirtfront and dragging him into her office. The door slammed firmly shut behind them.
“You find something?”
Broots, standing in the center of the room, nodded. He raised his hands as though he was going to clasp them in front of him. Halfway through the motion, he put them behind his back- he couldn’t decide what to do with them.
Parker waited in stony silence.
Finally, he opted for shoving them deep into his pockets.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’m afraid I’m still coming up blank on the Seventh Member Project.”
Parker swore under her breath.
“But,” he hastily continued, “I did find that Mr. Lyle left several hours ago for New York City.”
“The Seventh Member is there?”
“That’s what I would assume.” Broots bit his bottom lip and glanced around nervously as though they might not be entirely alone. “But that’s not what I came to tell you.”
Parker raised her brow in interest- she instantly picked up on the change in his demeanor; he seemed afraid. She gestured for him to go on.
“On my way down here, I saw a group of men outside of your father’s office.”
“And?”
“And, they weren’t exactly your average group of guys.”
“Spit it out, Broots!”
‘They were all wearing black trench coats and dark sunglasses- the real large kind with oval frames- they kept them on in the building. Their skin was really pale- white actually, like powdered sugar.” He paused to catch his breath before barreling on. “And their hair was all the same…jet black and slicked back- so shiny it looked like it was lacquered on. They were like…like boogeymen.”
Boogeymen? Broots could see the mocking jeer on her face. He wished he had phrased that differently, but it was the most accurate description of them.
“How many where there?” Parker did not like the sound of this. She had planned to follow Lyle, but now it looked as though it might be prudent to remain in the Centre.
“I counted ten, there may have been more.”
“Hiding behind a plant, were we?”
Broots flushed scarlet. “More like a column,” he muttered.
“Good work,” Parker said abruptly, striding towards the door. She felt it was time that she had a little heart-to-heart with her father. “I want you to keep on these goons. Find everything you can on them.”
Broots gulped. He was afraid she was going to say that.
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She laughed. Her laugh, like everything about her, was delicate.
Crystal bells, he thought, her laughter sounds like crystal bells.
Mia wiped the crumbs off of her table with a napkin. She could feel Lyle watching her. He was nice, not like most of the jerks that stopped to talk to her after leering obscenely at her. He was a gentleman and it was a refreshing change. Still, she didn’t know what he saw in her. People like him didn’t look twice at people like her.
There was an innocence about her that intrigued Lyle. She was shy and he liked that- it put him in control. There were two things he discovered about her that greatly surprised him. First, she had very low self-esteem. Being the knockout that she was, even in threadbare clothes, he found it difficult to believe that she thought of herself as unattractive. Secondly, he had never seen the Centre leave a project in such a state of poverty. Even if she was a runaway. Jarod was one and he certainly didn’t live like a homeless person unless he chose to. Of course, he also leeched money directly from the Centre’s Swiss accounts, but still….
His thoughts drifted momentarily. Wouldn’t it be fun to take her shopping on Fifth Avenue? He could buy her the most expensive and trendy clothing and accessories, then set her on a runaway to model it. Just like a living doll…his doll. The idea appealed greatly to him- it had been awhile since he’d had his own personal project.
Returning his focus to the present, he saw that Mia was anxious to leave. Being the perfect gentleman that he was, he naturally offered to walk her home. Granted, he had already won her trust and could have taken her immediately back to the Centre- mission accomplished. But where was the fun in that?
Mia graciously accepted his offer.
Didn’t Mommy ever warn you not to talk to strangers? He suppressed a giggle.
She admitted sheepishly to not being able to remember exactly how to get to her apartment. Lyle wondered if her inability to recall such a simple fact was somehow the Centre’s doing. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Knowing how foolish she must be feeling, the sensitive child she was, he quickly put her ease. He reached out and touched her hair, trailing his finger around her ear. She shivered and gave him a funny look.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He withdrew his hand and put it in his pocket.
She gave him her address and he knew exactly where her place was. He had mentioned that he was not from New York, but Mia figured he must spend a great deal of time in the City to know his way around so well. She felt his hand on the small of her back- in a brotherly gesture that guided her through a crowd of people on the street corner. She noticed that he always kept his left hand in his pocket. She wondered why. A curious quirk perhaps…she was much too shy to ask.
The closer they got to her apartment complex, the greater the sense of urgency Lyle felt. He frowned and gripped Mia’s arm in a firm hold. Something wasn’t quite right. Every muscle in his body tensed and his jaw tightened. Quickening their pace, he kept vigilant watch on their surroundings and the people they passed.
A shadow moved with them. He ran the fingertips of his free hand across his gun- the cool metal reassured him slightly.
The silhouette continued to shadow their movements.
It was as they were reaching the outer door of the apartments, that Lyle saw the man in the black trench coat and dark sunglasses. His hair was indistinguishable from the darkness that cloaked him, but his snow-white complexion stood out in stark contrast to the rest of him.
He never lost his cool, but Lyle was very concerned. He had seen this man before or someone like him, but details eluded him. He, like Mia, found certain memories impossible to hold on to.
The under-director and the shadow man locked gazes. They engaged in a silent staring contest. The shadow man raised his colorless hand in a salute and vanished before Lyle’s eyes.
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"Don't let us make imaginary evils, when you know we have so many real ones to encounter." -Oliver Goldsmith
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos - your reality... I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge- the nightmare I built my own world to escape... Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming- cannot cease for the fear of silent nights... Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming... In my field of paper flowers and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me....
Water spilled over him as he struggled to sit upright in the small tub. The liquid hydration cascaded over the edge, splashing onto the floor. His head ached and his neck throbbed as though he had been sleeping for an eternity.
Hehehe.
What was that?
He-he.
He pulled himself out of the basin. His foot stepped into a pool of water- the floor felt like ice. He shivered as his soggy clothing clung to his body, chilling him to the core. He searched the room. Maybe they left him a change of clothes.
For you? Feh, not a chance!
What was that?
There were no clothes. He knew there wouldn’t be.
Hehe…Haha.
He stood in the center of the room, rooted to the spot. Where was that coming from? He shook his head as though to rid himself of the laugh. His mind was still foggy as he scanned the room, uncertain of what he was looking for. A glimmer of reflected light caught his eye. On the far wall of the austere room hung a small square mirror. Memories slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He staggered backwards.
The laughter reverberated in his head until he could bear it no more.
No!
Yes! They hissed.
There was silence.
The giggle began first, then the chant.
Monster, monster, monster!
No! No! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!
Yes! We win again! We always win!
He whimpered fearfully.
Kill, kill, kill, kill!
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Meeting you with a view to a kill…”
She was standing on a street corner outside of a coffee shop when he first saw her. She seemed impatient for the light to change so she could cross the busy intersection. Her dress was sloppy, torn and tattered blue jeans, a faded denim jacket over a black t-shirt. She was no fashionista, but she was a looker.
Though he preferred Asian women, Lyle was quite sure that he could develop a taste for Irish colleens- at least this one. He turned his thoughts back to the task at hand. The girl he was watching certainly fit the physical description of Amelia- 5’7”, approximately 117 pounds, red hair, gray eyes. Lyle frowned. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting the Seventh Member to look like, but this wasn’t it. The girl was frail and looked positively lost.
He couldn’t see why the Triumvirate had made it seem as though she was a difficult one to locate. He had found her within a matter of hours after arriving in the City.
Unless it’s a diversionary tactic, he thought darkly. To keep me busy while Dad and Parker conspire together.
What a disappointment the hunt had turned out to be. Lyle also couldn’t see what use she could be to him much less to the Centre.
Then again, things aren’t always what they appear to be, he reminded himself.
“Face to face in secret places, feel the chill...”
She darted across the street at the first opportunity. Her pace didn’t slow once she was on the other side. She continued to jog down the street. It was dusk already and she hated to be out after dark- that’s when all the freaks and creeps came out from under their rocks.
Mia brushed a lock of hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her eyes. She glanced nervously around at her surroundings and quickened her pace. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. She had a small studio apartment on York Avenue- she knew that much. However, she was having difficulty remembering how to get there. Mia sighed. She had been having a lot of problems with her memory lately and those problems seemed to be getting worse.
She pulled her thin jacket tighter around her narrow shoulders. Fall was definitely setting in with winter close on its tail. Strangely, Mia could not remember what a New York winter was like, even though she knew she had been in one before.
“Nightfall covers me, but you know the plans I'm making…”
Lyle watched her with mild perplexity. He found it peculiar that she appeared uncertain of her way, though her record indicated she had lived in the City for two years.
Strange…
He remained always a step behind her, though at times he was so close that he could smell the coffee that still lingered on her clothes and in her hair. In her growing bewilderment, she failed to realize that she was, indeed, being followed.
She came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to Bagel Bob’s on 86 and York. York…the street name seemed vaguely familiar. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and that it wanted something more substantial than gourmet coffee. Mia stuck her hand inside the front pocket of her jeans. Change jangled inside as her hand closed on a few bills. Bagel Bob’s was cheap enough that she could at least get a small dinner.
She pushed the door of the diner open and felt the warm air kiss her icy nose and the balmy aroma of baking bread wrapped its delicious fragrance around her and invited her in. She sighed dreamily as she imagined as a cozy country kitchen with a grandmother inside cooking homemade breads and other goodies. The ring of the cash registers and shouting of patrons shattered her daydream. Mia took a place at the end of the shortest line that was still very long.
“Until we dance into the fire. That fatal kiss is all we need. Dance into the fire, to fatal sounds of broken dreams…”
She didn’t see him follow her into the bagel shop or step in line right behind her. She didn’t see him lean in close to her or feel him lightly finger her tied up hair. She was completely unaware of his presence, too lost in her own thoughts to notice much of anything.
He snickered silently to himself.
Perhaps she never would have seen him if she hadn’t accidentally elbowed him as she reached into her pocket for a second time.
She jumped as she spun around. Her eyes were wide in surprise, enormous with apology. A thin hand flew to her open mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, not able to look directly into his piercing gaze. “I’m such a klutz.”
“Not all,” he smiled, barely touching her jacket sleeve. “I shouldn’t have been so close. The crowd you know…” he said, as though to excuse his nearness.
“Of course,” her voice was so soft that it was difficult to hear it over the din of business. Her eyes remained chained to the floor, but feeling his intense gaze, crimson flooded her cheeks. She turned back towards the counter.
Obviously, she was quite taken by him. He chuckled under his breath. Of course, she was. Who wouldn’t be?
“Choice for you is the view to a kill. Between the shades, assassination standing still...”
Her hands shook as she reached into her pocket once more, being painstakingly careful not to bump the man behind her again. Her cheeks flushed for a second time as the memory of his azure eyes and handsome face flashed into her head. And that wasn’t all she had noticed about him. It was impossible not to observe how well he was dressed. An expensive suit, probably Armani, a deep scarlet silk shirt and matching tie, Italian leather shoes. What on earth was he doing in Bagel Bob’s? He belonged somewhere far ritzier, like Azalea Ristorante.
“What’ll yer have?”
Mia started slightly when the cashier spoke. What was with her today…she was so jumpy all of a sudden.
“Uh…” she stared up at the menu. She looked more at the prices than at the actual items. The scent of the food was making her mouth water- it all smelled so good! “Lemme have the cinnamon raisin walnut bagel and the roast beef Bobwich.”
The man behind the counter tallied up her order. “That’er be 5.75.”
Mia counted over the currency in her hand. Again color spread over her noble features. She had made an error in her math and did not have enough to cover the meal.
“Maybe I’ll just have the bagel,” she whispered, ashamed of making such a stupid mistake.
The man seemed annoyed, but said nothing.
Her order came up quick and Mia hurriedly paid him and moved away from the counter. She dreaded going back out into the cold night, so she chose a table in a secluded corner of the diner to eat her meager dinner. She sat with her back to the crowd and held the bagel under her nose, taking in its luscious odor. She sighed and closed her eyes, weary from a long day at work.
The sound of a tray being set on a table caused her to open her eyes. She was astonished to find the handsome stranger, whom she had so rudely bumped in line, taking a seat across from her. He smiled warmly at her, a smile that made her feel…well, sick inside actually…but not in a bad way.
He said nothing as he took a plate off of his tray and sat it in front of her. Mia’s eyes enlarged when she saw the Roast Beef Bobwich on the plate- the very sandwich she couldn’t afford.
“You look like you could stand to put on a few pounds,” was all he said about the food.
Mia’s jaw opened and shut, but no words came out.
“You don’t mind me sitting here, do you?” he looked genuinely concerned that he might have offended her. He started to get up. “I should have asked first.”
Mia’s heart raced and she felt like a social misfit, not knowing what to say or do.
“You’re fine,” she assured him, though not without her voice trembling. She glanced up to see him sitting down again. His eyes caught hers and she found his cobalt gaze hypnotic and impossible to look away from. She ducked her head, wishing she had worn her hair down so that she could hide behind it as she often did. She stared at the sandwich.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
The stranger smiled.
Dance into the fire when all we see... is the view to a kill...”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Miss Parker ran into Broots in the hall as she was stepping out of her office…literally.
“Are you blind?!” she barked hotly, giving him a scathing look.
Broots didn’t bother to inform her that the collision was actually her fault. He knew better. Miss Parker was in an even worse mood than normal because no headway had been made in either Jarod’s case or the Seventh Member Project.
“Well?” Parker raised an eyebrow. “Don’t just stand there, move!”
Broots seriously considered walking away.
“Actually, I came to see you.”
Parker held up a hand to prevent him from saying anything further. She glanced up and down the corridor suspiciously before grabbing Broots by the shirtfront and dragging him into her office. The door slammed firmly shut behind them.
“You find something?”
Broots, standing in the center of the room, nodded. He raised his hands as though he was going to clasp them in front of him. Halfway through the motion, he put them behind his back- he couldn’t decide what to do with them.
Parker waited in stony silence.
Finally, he opted for shoving them deep into his pockets.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’m afraid I’m still coming up blank on the Seventh Member Project.”
Parker swore under her breath.
“But,” he hastily continued, “I did find that Mr. Lyle left several hours ago for New York City.”
“The Seventh Member is there?”
“That’s what I would assume.” Broots bit his bottom lip and glanced around nervously as though they might not be entirely alone. “But that’s not what I came to tell you.”
Parker raised her brow in interest- she instantly picked up on the change in his demeanor; he seemed afraid. She gestured for him to go on.
“On my way down here, I saw a group of men outside of your father’s office.”
“And?”
“And, they weren’t exactly your average group of guys.”
“Spit it out, Broots!”
‘They were all wearing black trench coats and dark sunglasses- the real large kind with oval frames- they kept them on in the building. Their skin was really pale- white actually, like powdered sugar.” He paused to catch his breath before barreling on. “And their hair was all the same…jet black and slicked back- so shiny it looked like it was lacquered on. They were like…like boogeymen.”
Boogeymen? Broots could see the mocking jeer on her face. He wished he had phrased that differently, but it was the most accurate description of them.
“How many where there?” Parker did not like the sound of this. She had planned to follow Lyle, but now it looked as though it might be prudent to remain in the Centre.
“I counted ten, there may have been more.”
“Hiding behind a plant, were we?”
Broots flushed scarlet. “More like a column,” he muttered.
“Good work,” Parker said abruptly, striding towards the door. She felt it was time that she had a little heart-to-heart with her father. “I want you to keep on these goons. Find everything you can on them.”
Broots gulped. He was afraid she was going to say that.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
She laughed. Her laugh, like everything about her, was delicate.
Crystal bells, he thought, her laughter sounds like crystal bells.
Mia wiped the crumbs off of her table with a napkin. She could feel Lyle watching her. He was nice, not like most of the jerks that stopped to talk to her after leering obscenely at her. He was a gentleman and it was a refreshing change. Still, she didn’t know what he saw in her. People like him didn’t look twice at people like her.
There was an innocence about her that intrigued Lyle. She was shy and he liked that- it put him in control. There were two things he discovered about her that greatly surprised him. First, she had very low self-esteem. Being the knockout that she was, even in threadbare clothes, he found it difficult to believe that she thought of herself as unattractive. Secondly, he had never seen the Centre leave a project in such a state of poverty. Even if she was a runaway. Jarod was one and he certainly didn’t live like a homeless person unless he chose to. Of course, he also leeched money directly from the Centre’s Swiss accounts, but still….
His thoughts drifted momentarily. Wouldn’t it be fun to take her shopping on Fifth Avenue? He could buy her the most expensive and trendy clothing and accessories, then set her on a runaway to model it. Just like a living doll…his doll. The idea appealed greatly to him- it had been awhile since he’d had his own personal project.
Returning his focus to the present, he saw that Mia was anxious to leave. Being the perfect gentleman that he was, he naturally offered to walk her home. Granted, he had already won her trust and could have taken her immediately back to the Centre- mission accomplished. But where was the fun in that?
Mia graciously accepted his offer.
Didn’t Mommy ever warn you not to talk to strangers? He suppressed a giggle.
She admitted sheepishly to not being able to remember exactly how to get to her apartment. Lyle wondered if her inability to recall such a simple fact was somehow the Centre’s doing. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Knowing how foolish she must be feeling, the sensitive child she was, he quickly put her ease. He reached out and touched her hair, trailing his finger around her ear. She shivered and gave him a funny look.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He withdrew his hand and put it in his pocket.
She gave him her address and he knew exactly where her place was. He had mentioned that he was not from New York, but Mia figured he must spend a great deal of time in the City to know his way around so well. She felt his hand on the small of her back- in a brotherly gesture that guided her through a crowd of people on the street corner. She noticed that he always kept his left hand in his pocket. She wondered why. A curious quirk perhaps…she was much too shy to ask.
The closer they got to her apartment complex, the greater the sense of urgency Lyle felt. He frowned and gripped Mia’s arm in a firm hold. Something wasn’t quite right. Every muscle in his body tensed and his jaw tightened. Quickening their pace, he kept vigilant watch on their surroundings and the people they passed.
A shadow moved with them. He ran the fingertips of his free hand across his gun- the cool metal reassured him slightly.
The silhouette continued to shadow their movements.
It was as they were reaching the outer door of the apartments, that Lyle saw the man in the black trench coat and dark sunglasses. His hair was indistinguishable from the darkness that cloaked him, but his snow-white complexion stood out in stark contrast to the rest of him.
He never lost his cool, but Lyle was very concerned. He had seen this man before or someone like him, but details eluded him. He, like Mia, found certain memories impossible to hold on to.
The under-director and the shadow man locked gazes. They engaged in a silent staring contest. The shadow man raised his colorless hand in a salute and vanished before Lyle’s eyes.
