Chapter Ten. (R18) -- The Beta Board

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Date Posted: 13:39:50 02/02/04 Mon
Author: Cyanide
Subject: Chapter Ten. (R18)
In reply to: Cyanide 's message, "Acephaly." on 20:12:12 01/21/04 Wed

Hugging the ground, she crept slowly forward. At the edge of the tree line she stopped and bringing a pair of goggles to her eyes scanned the area. All seemed peaceful, looked perfectly normal; but looks were deceiving. Less than a mile before her goggled eyes lay the residence of Janet Baldacci; within its walls, Section One's Operations was being held captive.

Not for long.

Jasmine zoomed in on the western end of the property, searching for the guard she knew to be there. He was barely visible, blending almost seamlessly into the background, but she found him nevertheless.

After watching the property for the better part of two days, she was fairly certain she had located each and every one of the perimeter forces. There were no more than twenty patrolling at any given time; currently there were only fourteen, including the five guards stationed on the roof of the main house.

From all reports, Janet's security systems were no better than those of her wealthy neighbors - small army aside. The woman appeared to place more value on appearances than actual security, with the fewest number of guards working during daylight hours. That was not to imply the property was unsecured.

Far from it.

Though relatively few in number, the guards appeared to be highly disciplined, extremely well equipped, alert, and cleverly positioned. To reach the main house where Operations was being held, Section operatives would need to cross the length of two football fields of flat open ground, under the ever watchful gaze of five guards equipped with the armory of a small country. The property was secure against such attack - they had as much chance of taking it that way as elephants had of flying.

Their ability to acquire this type of target was the reason they were the most covert anti terrorist agency in the world - that, a healthy budget and freedom from obeying inconvenient laws. Today they would break at least twenty of those laws.

Having ensured her target was where he was supposed to be, she removed her goggles and keyed her mike once - receiving some static in acknowledgement. Jasmine watched the blue sky through the covering branches, searching for something she had no earthly chance of seeing.

She sat on the damp earth, staring up at the clear sky for what felt to her an eternity. What's taking so long?

A series of loud explosions came in answer. Her eyes, which had failed to sight the planes, had no difficulty detecting the dense black smoke, emanating from the roof of the main house.

She leapt to her feet, fixed her gas mask firmly over her face, pulled her goggles back over her eyes - adjusted the tracking to normal, drew her gun and raced across the grounds. No rain of bullets was forthcoming and she thanked her lucky stars, before deciding the bombs might bear a greater responsibility.

She reached the position where she'd previously sighted the western defender; at the same time she heard a smattering of gunfire from the southeast. It ended quickly, and the western defender was covering too much ground to be among the living - she ignored both. Jasmine keyed her mike once more and headed for her assigned entry point.

She reached the door at the same time Simon strolled up, minus his gas mask. "Enjoy the fireworks?" he offered with an accompanying smirk.

He appeared a touch disheveled; Jasmine decided he'd seen a little action. She removed her gas mask, but didn't bother responding. She examined the door using each setting on her goggles while Simon scanned the area, his back to her.

"All clear," she announced. "Where are the others?" she inquired while fixing a charge to the door's lock.

He shrugged non-committally. "They'll be along."

She shot an irritated look at his back, stepped to the side and detonated the explosives - blowing the door wide open.

Cassidy and Mitchell appeared, looking a little worse for wear. Mitchell handed Simon a gas mask remarking, "Think you dropped this mate."

Simon surprised her by thanking the man. Will wonders never cease? "Where are Kevin and Lore?" Jamine asked the newcomers.

"Don't know about Lore, but Kevin took one in the head," Mitchell answered, somehow managing to contain his grief. "I've got his gear," he added.

Jasmine felt a burst of anger and put it to use, tossing a gas canister through the open door. She pulled her gas mask back on and followed the canister inside. Forget about them. Operations is in here, she's alive. For now. Keep moving.

She saw movement up ahead. She fired.

So did they.

************************************************************************************************************************

Though Janet's smile didn't waver when the sound of explosions reached them, a glance in Karl's direction sent him from the room.

Nikita didn't need to force a smile. "Trouble?"

"Not at all," Janet muttered, somehow remaining calm.

"Sounded like an explosion," Nikita helpfully advised.

Janet dropped the smile. "It was a series of explosions, emanating from the roof." She looked up at the ceiling and continued, "Probably five explosions."

"Why five?"

"There were five guards on the roof. I would imagine your friends took care of the perimeter guards at the same time." Janet didn't seem too upset.

Nikita found Janet's enduring calmness irritating; even with gunfire sounding in the house, Janet didn't appear agitated.

That will change; she consoled herself. Janet hadn't even bothered to get Daniel to close the door; when Section's forces arrived, they would find it all too easy.

"Doesn't sound good. Perhaps you should surrender," she suggested in a pleasant tone.

Janet and Daniel exchanged an amused look.

Am I missing something, or are these two crazy?

"Nikita. If you had to kill one person in order to destroy me, would you have done it?" Janet asked, green eyes intense.

She considered it. "One for the thousand you would kill? Yes." Of course I would.

Janet nodded. "And if you had to kill a thousand?"

Would I? She thought perhaps she might, but she didn't feel inclined to tell Janet that. The brunette was going somewhere with this, she wasn't certain where; it was better to remain silent.

Janet smiled. "What about a million? Do you hate me that much?" Janet's eyes clung to Nikita's face.

A million? "No," she quickly replied, but she wasn't entirely certain.

Janet's smile widened. "If I hadn't intervened the first time, Section would have fallen; you were running it into the ground. Hate is a powerful tool Nikita - it gave you the strength you required."

"You are wasted on terrorism, you should have been a comedian," she replied.

Janet turned her gaze on Daniel. "Hear that? She thinks I'm funny."

"She's hardly discerning," he replied.

Janet pouted. "I have feelings you know."

Daniel laughed, "I hadn't noticed."

Nikita was puzzled by the exchange; on the surface it appeared light-hearted, but she couldn't help but think she was missing something. She felt it in her bones.

"I overestimated her," Janet was telling Daniel.

He shrugged. "It happens."

Janet nodded and turned back to face Nikita.

For the briefest of moments, Janet's deep green eyes appeared consumed with sadness - Nikita saw it, but doubted Daniel had.

Only when the beeping began did Nikita realize the gunfire had stopped.

Janet held the beeper in her hand, reading the code. The brunette sighed deeply. "Time's up."

To Janet's credit she didn't seem the least bit happy.

"Thought of something easily escapable?" Nikita asked in a surprisingly calm tone of voice.

Janet smiled wanly. "Only if you can dodge bullets." The brunette stood, pulling a gun from inside her jacket.

Nikita found her feet - if this was it, she would die standing.

The gun came up. From the corner of her eye, she saw Daniel move to block the doorway.

"I'll see you in hell," Nikita intoned - she had always wanted to say it.

Janet nodded. Her green gaze shifted, her smile fading - she tried to hold on to the edges of it, but her lips quivered with the effort. "Xin loi," * she said clearly.

Nikita followed Janet's gaze.

The blast was deafening; it bounced off the walls to assault her eardrums. Nikita watched in shocked silence as blood blossomed from an open wound in Daniel's chest. He seemed suspended in air - eyes widened in shock; then, as his legs went out from under him, he crumbled - losing his precious hold on life.

Nikita's eyes flew back to Janet.

The brunette's gaze was fixed on Daniel. The gun hung limp in her right hand, barrel pointing at the floor. Her eyes closed tightly, as though she was attempting to hide from what she had seen; a single tear traced a line down her cheek.

Nikita noticed all this as she moved forward to take the gun.

Janet's eyes snapped open; the gun coming up quickly - too quickly - Nikita was still too far away. She turned to the doorway, desperate for assistance.

No one was there.

Only then did she understand. Janet had killed him. "Why?" she asked shocked.

Had she spoken one second earlier or later, Janet would have shot her dead, but she had timed her question well; it came at the precise moment Janet was willing, and perhaps even needing, to explain. The gun lowered slightly.

"He deserved better," Janet said; her voice modulated, seemingly calm. Her face stern - unyielding - but her eyes were weak, guilt, despair, misery, and rage all vying for supremacy within them.

I have to keep her talking. "Than what?" Nikita asked, moving ever so slightly forward.

"Than what awaited him," Janet spoke entirely without inflection, her eyes unblinking.

Nikita stepped closer, if given opportunity she would be able to clasp the gun with one more step. "What awaited him?" she asked softly.

Janet's eyes grew weary and the gun rose. "The destroyer of worlds." She blinked then, and when her eyes reopened she appeared dead inside. It was with a steady hand that the brunette pulled the trigger.

Something like an egg cracked open upon Nikita's forehead, and then her head burned; her world slowed and the floor rose up to greet her.

In the harsh light of impending death, she reviewed her life, her choices, and herself. She found each flawed, found each wanting. She spent her final moments upon the earth condemned to a hell of her own creation - she relived every failure, examined every flaw.

Every second was an eternity of pain, suffering, and anguish.

Nikita had the misfortune to live another thirty.

* Xin loi - I'm sorry.

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[> Chapter Eleven - P1(R18) -- Cyanide, 14:07:33 02/02/04 Mon

She had awoken not in some hellish afterlife or blissful paradise - but within nausea's embrace, in a sparsely decorated room, lying upon a particularly uncomfortable bed. The nausea abated; no demons came to claim her and no angels serenaded her with their harps. Quinn came to the conclusion that she remained a resident in purgatory - she had lived.

Her first days passed slowly; one boring hour blending into the next, watching the minutes pass on the wristwatch her captors had kindly left her. The cell was a three meters square space - no windows, one door - crammed with a bed (bolted to the wall), a desk (bolted to the floor), a chair, a toilet, a small basin, and what one could charitably call a shower.

Her only contact to the outside world was through a slot in the door. Through the slot, she daily received clean clothing and towels, three meals of hospital standard, bottled water, and any necessities - such as toilet paper and soap - that were required. If she placed her dirty dishes, clothing, and towels in front of the slot, they were removed; if she did not, they remained in her cell. No one came in; no one spoke to her.

The first two weeks were spent staring at her watch, eating, exercising in the small space available, or sleeping - there was nothing else to do. Every evening - at precisely 10:00 PM - the lights began to dim, slowing fading till 11:00 PM - when darkness reigned. At 6:00 AM the lights were turned back on, gradually gaining intensity; by 7:00 AM they were up to full power. She thought it was a rather kind gesture.

After two weeks alone she was starving for human contact, bored out of her wits. On the 16th day of her captivity, she received four books with her breakfast. Each was an exceedingly thick tome on the psychology of the human species - she finished them all by the week's end.

The very next day she received another four, five days later she received ten tomes of varying subjects: medicine, mathematics, hunting, geology, chemistry, weapons, military tactics, martial arts, logic and ethics.

She had never read more in her life.

************************************************************************************************************************

It wasn't over, but it soon would be.

Before her, six men, each worthy of a special place in hell; she felt not the slightest bit of fear. When the first offered his hand, the one that met it was steady enough for surgery. When the second kissed each of her cheeks, her plastered-on smile did not slip. When the third bowed, she bent not a single degree too far when returning it. When the fourth coughed in her face, she did not flinch and when the fifth came forward, she slit his throat in one clean action. Then - drenched in his blood - she calmly inclined her head in greeting to the sixth, before offering each remaining man a seat.

She felt not a single measure of fear.

Two female assistants entered, bringing refreshments for the men and a towel for her.

One of the men - Hand - was so subtle as to glance in the direction of the twitching body before pushing his drink away. The others simply ignored theirs; in a show of solidarity, she ignored her towel.

"Thank you ladies; have Richard come in please," she spoke in a low monotone that fit nicely with her blood-caked appearance.

They nodded and left.

Richard had to have been waiting by the door as he entered almost immediately. He visibly paled when he saw her; his eyes quickly surveyed the room and when he sighted the body, he shuddered in comprehension.

"Set up, Richard," she instructed, motioning towards the seat beside hers.

He managed to move the few paces required and took the seat. He opened his laptop and a few minutes later muttered that he was ready. Richard had never enjoyed the sight of blood; he kept his eyes on his screen.

"We are ready for the transfer," she announced.

Hand found his voice. "I think an explanation is in order."

She smiled, or rather, grinned maniacally. "Regarding?"

"Our lately departed colleague," he replied.

She dropped the grin. "He betrayed my Uncle to his death." She added some heat for effect.

Hand paused, considering. "I wasn't aware of that."

"Now you are." She maintained eye contact.

He nodded slowly. "Now I am." Then almost as an afterthought, he said, "He was a great man, your Uncle."

"Yes, he was," she responded softly. "If that is all?" She swept her eyes around the room, no one else appeared to have a problem. "Richard will confirm the transfers."

"How can we be certain you have what you claim?" asked Cheek.

"You wouldn't be here if you believed I was lying." Even with the blood, she thought she appeared reasonable.

"I want some proof." Bow backed up Cheek.

"Proof costs money." She smiled, showing lots of teeth.

"How much money?" asked Hand, rightly suspicious.

"20 billion dollars." She aimed for sweet.

"You can't be serious." Cough was shocked into speaking.

"20 billion for your proof - the rest you may have for free."

Nod laughed loudly, seemingly amused. The others waited for him to quiet down before continuing their campaign.

"Would you be more flexible if we broke your fingers?" Cheek politely inquired.

She had expected the threats to start earlier and be much more inventive. She caught Cheek's gaze and curled the fingers of her right hand around the little finger of her left. She snapped the finger back, breaking it with a sickening cracking sound - in her peripheral vision she saw Richard jump. "I shouldn't think so," she said in a calm, even tone.

It wasn't difficult to keep the pain from her voice; what was difficult was keeping the surprise from her face - it hadn't actually hurt. She'd felt it all right, the burning, the sharpness, but it was merely sensation - neither painful nor pleasant.

Nod started clapping. "Very well done."

"I'd like my money now." She kept her tone pleasant.

Aside from Nod, they all shot her murderous looks, perhaps hoping she'd drop dead. When that didn't happen, they obediently slipped out their cell phones and made their calls; Nod cheerfully followed their calls with one of his own.

"Confirmed," Richard muttered, still glued to his screen.

"Excellent!" She theatrically clapped her hands. "Your people should now have the means to destroy the Sections - or rather, they will have in 25 hours, when I send them the decryption code."

Nod broke out in a fresh gale of laughter, drowning out the others' threats.

"Should my money disappear, or should I die an untimely death in the next 25 hours, you won't get the code and the files will self-destruct."

They stopped yelling.

"If you need to make another phone call, please do so now."

Hand and Bow quickly complied; Nod continued laughing and Cheek looked embarrassed enough to convince her he hadn't even thought about it.

"A toast!" said Nod.

She smiled widely; he'd saved her some trouble. She hit the intercom. "Champagne."

Less than a minute later, the women returned carrying a bottle and glasses. She motioned towards Hand, and they took it to him. "If you'd be so kind?" she directed at him.

He took the bottle and carefully examined it. Deciding it was acceptable, he opened it with a flourish and poured each of them a glass.

She stood, sculled hers back and then held it out to be refilled. Holding up her second glass, she made her toast. "To the end of the world."

"Hear! Hear!" Nod affirmed before gulping down the alcohol.

Richard looked as though he could do with something stronger, but drank it all the same.

Cheek, Bow and Hand each took a small sip - it was more than enough. In a little over a year, it would begin; if they were lucky they would die quickly. Death would not be coming as a friend.

Business concluded they wasted no time in leaving - none other than Nod offered a farewell; she wished him luck in return.

"That went well," she observed to Richard.

"You should go clean up, so we can leave," he said, still not looking at her. "Why did you have to kill him anyhow?"

"He doesn't drink," she said, crossing the room to the adjoining bathroom.

"Weren't they suspicious?"

"I told them he betrayed my Uncle," she informed him, stripping off her bloody clothes.

"Did he?" he asked, as though the answer was important.

"Of course not - I did." Silence greeted this statement. "Tell Di to send in the cleaning crew," she ordered, entering the shower.

The blood was stubborn - clinging to her flesh - it took some time to remove it all. When she had, she quickly toweled off and dressed in the clean clothing someone had left out for her.

When she returned to the office, cleaning was well underway - Di supervising from a corner. Richard was inspecting a crack in the far wall, conveniently close to an exit.

"No more blood," she announced, coming up behind him.

He turned to inspect her. "Much better."

"Got everything?"

He patted his laptop. "All in here."

"Good. Let's go."

Richard didn't need any more encouragement. He turned to leave; he was reaching for the door handle when she plunged the needle into his neck. It was over before he even realized what was happening - his death quick, if not exactly painless.

She picked up his laptop and handed it to Di, who had come to stand beside her. "Give it to the woman in 204, with my compliments. Once I've left, see her safely on her way."

Di nodded and left through an exit on the other side of the room.

When the other woman had disappeared, she pulled the door as far open as Richard's body allowed, and slipped out into the reception area. As expected, they were waiting for her. "Henry. Elizabeth. It is a pleasure to finally meet you both."

Each smiled widely in response.

Janet felt no fear.

************************************************************************************************************************

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