Chapter 2 - 2: An Unexpected Twist

Episode 2: An Unexpected Twist

 

Faith Fairchild could barely breathe. Something heavy was lying across her chest. Whatever it

was, was making breathing a real problem. She took in two ragged breaths, each inhale an effort,

then sputtered uncontrollably. Instead of oxygen, she inhaled a mouthful of dirt.

Once the earth was expelled from her lungs, she pulled her shirt up over her mouth to act like a

make-shift air filter. Then Faith took another breath. That was better. It may not have been fresh

air, but at least it was air, not dirt filling her lungs.

Why was this happening, she wondered. What had she ever done to deserve being buried alive?

Okay, so she wasn’t exactly the ideal student or the greatest sister, but did that warrant this? Was

God punishing her for some unknown offence?

Unexpectedly, the claustrophobic-ness of it all hit her. The room felt like it was rapidly getting

smaller. Not to mention the all consuming darkness. It was too dark. Even darker now than

before. Maybe that meant it was nearing dusk, or maybe in her current state of mental delusion, it

meant she was dying and the world as she knew it was only going to get darker.

“God!” Faith cursed. “I have to stop thinking like this. Positive, Faith. Be positive.”

With one hand she reached out, feeling around her in the obscurity. Her other hand was cold and

numb. She worked her fingers and a small amount of pain shot through her arm. As she tested its

limberness, the pain subsided a bit. At least, it still worked. Thank God for small favors. Faith

could feel the hole in her hand even though the dimness prevented her from seeing it. The

sensation of the blood pulsating and pumping rapidly out of her body echoed in her head.

A sudden wave of nausea hit her hard.

“I have got to get out of here!” her mind screamed.

Faith’s first goal was to get the big, heavy, whatever-it-was off her chest. Shallow breathing was

not popular with her right now. She preferred deep cleansing breaths. It took a few minutes to

discover the obstacle stretched out over her was a person and not a hunk of the ceiling.

“Hey, bucko, buckette, or whoever-the-heck you are. GET OFF!” With all her strength, Faith

pushed at the form. The lifeless figure rolled onto its back and onto the lower portion of her legs.

The pressure on her calves she could take. It was much better than the likely-to die-bysuffocation

feeling she had earlier.

Cameron Cash, Black Council security expert, snapped his well worn cell phone closed. Was this

source reliable? It wasn’t possible, he thought. She couldn’t be alive.

Janette.

The name registered both good and bad memories with him, mostly bad.

He had dealt with Janette eight years ago in the only way he knew how, he had her killed. It had

been such a great plan, make it seem like Ethan Fairchild had her iced. Then his boss, Julian,

would have yet another score to settle with The Legacy and the Knights Foundation. Cameron

had scores to settle too. Using Julian to his own ends didn’t bother Cameron in the least. They

had a mission, a mission of destruction. And he wasn’t going to let someone like Janette

Ambrose Black ruin it all for him, not again.

He wouldn’t let Janette come back from the dead, and suck the life out of his boss one more time.

It wouldn’t be good for either of them. Most of all, it wouldn’t be good for the Black Council.

Cameron thought he had gotten rid of her once before. The plan to frame Ethan had been a

brilliant move. Julian hated the man with every ounce of his being now. It had been the perfect

plan, perfectly executed – until today.

Back then he had been hesitant to kill her. She was so beautiful. So lovely. But eight years had

made him a stronger man, a stronger killer. Today he’d get rid of Janette Black once and for all,

this time for eternity.

“Ethan?” Jeffrey Sogard nearly fell out of his seat at the sound of his mentor’s voice. At that exact

moment the noise level in tactical suddenly quieted and Jeffrey brought his own voice down a

notch. He was in shock.

There was a Legacy systems analyst two terminals away. Jeffrey turned his back to him in order

to make the conversation more private. He couldn’t believe Ethan was alive. From what Kevin

had said, Ethan was supposed lost in the explosion along with Faith and Phoenix Gray.

He had been sure his adviser was a dead man and that the rumors of kidnaping had been leads

promoting a sense of false hope the Legacy high ups were so known for.

“Ethan? Is it really you?” Jeffrey wasn’t convinced. He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it. This

could be some techie’s lame attempt at payback. Voices could be computer generated. He knew

this better than anyone. He’d done it many times.

“You sound like you’ve missed me, Sogard.”

“We all were worried.” Jeffrey glanced up to Gia’s darkened office then to the one beside it lit by

harsh flourescent lights. Philip Lancaster stood in plain view in the midst of an intense

conversation over the phone. “Some of us, anyway.”

“Not to worry. As far as I can tell, I’m still in one piece. But enough of that. I need a favor.”

“A favor? Ethan, the last time I did you a favor I nearly got myself killed. And anyway, people

around here think you’re dead.” Jeffrey tried not to raise his voice but it was hard talking sense

into Ethan when he was like this.

“Then just let them keep thinking that. Now about that favor?”

"What's wrong?" Derek Lloyd asked.

He and his new conquest, Octavia Kassoff, had been engaged in a lovemaking marathon only

minutes earlier. Now, he laid on his back basking in the warmth of the sun, and the image of the

blonde next to him. Neither had heard the scuffle earlier in the front room between Ethan Fairchild

and Julian Black. Their minds had been otherwise occupied.

Octavia turned over and smiled seductively at her companion. She pressed her body firmly into

his letting him know of her intense, passionate need for him.

"What's wrong?" she repeated. "I don't know. Something's bothering me. I can't put my finger on

why."

Octavia kissed Derek softly then proceeded to her wardrobe and began to get dressed. Her hair,

still slightly mussed fell in attractive cascades around her face. The afternoon light streamed

through the window making her appear almost angelic.

"Don't worry. I'll figure it out eventually."

Derek nodded and stood to join Octavia.

The window to the right echoed an explosion that sounded like thunder, and large chunks of glass

were propelled across the room like tiny missiles. One shard sliced Derek's muscled, tan leg,

another hit him square in the throat. Before he could gasp for air, a whining sound erupted in the

breeze next to him. The sound was that of a large bullet, and the force of the impact threw Derek

across the room. His body slammed against the far wall opposite the window and slumped onto

the nearby bed.

A slow red stain spread across the white sheets under his chest.

"Come out, come out, where ever you are," Octavia said, softly as she unleathered the .44

Magnum Desert Eagle. She worked her way around the circumference of the room searching for

a good angle to kill the bastard who had just broken her window.

A shadow came up behind her followed by a warm soothing voice.

"You don't seem particularly saddened by your lover's sudden departure from this world."

Cameron Cash towered over her a hulk dressed all in black.

Octavia shrugged.

"I've had better in my time. I won't lose any sleep over him." She gripped the Desert Eagle firmly

in her right hand ready to strike if the situation called for it.

She laced the fingers of her other hand in Cameron's blond curly hair.

"Looks like you could use a good haircut, Cash."

Cameron ignored the remark and proceeded to the reason he was there.

"The Council has a new mission for you." He had forgotten the body lying on the bed. Its bodily

fluids soaking into the mattress as they spoke.

"Oh, I'm all a tingle."

"A very important microdot has been stolen from one of our secure areas."

"Doesn't sound like your secure areas are locked up tight enough," Octavia purred.

He offered her a wan smile and continued. "Its contents are highly classified and worth a lot of

francs if returned in tact. I'm offering you the job, if you want it."

"Any chance of getting myself killed while retrieving this classified plastic dot?"

"Definitely."

She circled Cameron and took in the hardened expression on his face. The look spoke volumes.

"Something tells me that Julian doesn't know this microdot is missing." She smiled when his jaw

twitched proving her correct.

"Don't give me a hard time, Kassoff!" Cameron spat. "I need that dot back! Are you going to take

the assignment or not?"

Octavia contemplated a moment, then paused letting the silence speak for her. She was seriously

yanking Cash's chain but she didn't care. This was more fun than she'd had in weeks.

"All right, I'm in," she said in her practiced American/Russian accent. "But only because I like

you."

She ran a finger down the side of his face.

"It's been a long time, Cash. What do you say that we play a bit first?"

For the first time, Cameron realized that Octavia was only wearing a bra, panties and a silky white

robe. It was fully open exposing her creamy skin. His eyes filled with a sudden desire.

"I thought you'd never ask."

He rolled Derek's body off the bed, ripped away the bloody sheets and tossed them onto the

dead man.

Jeffrey was almost giddy. No one knew Ethan Fairchild was alive. No one except for him, and he

was still reeling from the experience. Early on he’d talked himself out of the voice modulation

theory and accepted it as a phone call from the man himself. He still couldn’t believe it. Ethan

trusted him with a monumental secret. Of course, he couldn’t keep such a secret to himself. He

knew if he did he’d probably burst.

“You’re never going to believe who I just talked to?” Jeffrey whispered as he entered the weapons

area.

Boswell Chapman smiled and the grayness of his hair glinted reflecting the silver walls. His

reddish face was deeply lined, more due to his Indian heritage than his age. Boswell was sixty yet

acted more like a teenager.

“Let me guess,” he said thinking. “That cute redhead in operations? Oh, wait, how about the data

clerk you’re always talking about?”

“No,” he said unable to hide the smile that spread across his face. “Ethan.”

Gia Doyle felt almost sick. Never before had she experienced such a sensation of overwhelming

dread. She took a second to control her emotions then flipped open her cell phone. She couldn't

believe her kidnappers hadn't taken it from her. Sometimes people could be idiots. But she was

thankful for small favors.

The line rang through to Philip Lancaster's office in London.

"Where in the hell are you? People are starting to ask questions," he said with an abundance of

annoyance.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Gia glanced around the room she was locked in.

"Oh, I've heard a few doozies in my day, Doyle. One of your escapades isn't going to surprise me

much."

"Just have Jeffrey get a fix on my location, and send a cleaner team in."

"Sounds serious."

"You just don't know."

Gia fiddled with the door handle. When the lock wouldn't release even after using her practiced

lock picking techniques, she adopted a harsher method of escape. A loud explosion reverberated

through the room. Philip quickly held the phone away from his ear.

"Dammit, Gia. You all right?" Silent crossed the phone line. "Answer me!"

"Fine. Thank God I had the Stooges for kidnappers. Left my secondary weapon available for me."

"Kidnappers? Gia?"

"I'm not even going to get into this now, Philip. I have some unfinished business to attend to. I'm

sure you understand."

Gia snapped the phone closed and exited through the door which now was leaning awkwardly

against the far hallway wall.

Faith could hear a hollow moaning and the sound chilled her to the bone. At first she thought it

might be her friend the lump, lying on her legs, but the voice sounded like it was coming from

somewhere farther away. It echoed through the room as if they were in some sort of hallway.

She nudged the body a couple of times then felt around the neck area for a pulse.

"Please, oh, please have a pulse," she prayed, out loud.

There it was. A pulse. It throbbed in a heavy rhythm letting her know the person was okay.

"Hey, sport," she said, as relief washed over her. She shook the body pressing against its

shoulder. "Wake up."

The body moved slightly then groaned loudly.

"Anybody get the license plate of that truck?"

Gia rushed out of the Kassoff mansion and flew by the cleaner team as they stormed the house.

She grabbed the lead operative and pulled him aside.

"Keys?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"I don't know Ms. Doyle," the operative said warily.

"I am your superior officer. Give me the damn keys or I'll cancel your ass so fast you won't know

what hit you."

"Yes, ma'am!" he said.

The lead operative placed the key ring in Gia's palm. She closed her fingers over then and

sprinted toward one of the newly arrived vehicles. Quickly she slid behind the wheel and peeled

out, racing toward Bulgaria.

She had to get back there. If the wires were removed from Ethan's head before the power was

powered down, he'd completely lose his memory. It was bad enough that the other one was

running loose somewhere out there. But right now all she could think about was saving Ethan

who was trapped in the monastery's underground lab.

Kevin Fairchild clutched the phone to his ear waiting for Philip to return to the line. A noise from

behind drew his attention. He turned, expecting to see Emma, the housekeeper, and instead

found his worst nightmare staring back at him.

"Hey cuz!"

"Oh, brother!" Kevin turned back around and tried to ignore the woman standing behind him.

Even without looking at her he could feel the fiery memory of her red hair and matching temper as

it seared into his back.

"What's the matter, Big K? Forget me already?" Eden Fairchild came up behind Kevin and

wrapped her arms around his throat.

"NO WAY!" he shouted. "I'm not going there. Get off me, Eden!"

"Why? We're not really related by blood. So what's the problem?"

"Problem? Problem? You're my cousin. My father's brother's kid."

"Your step father's brother's kid. Let's not forget that," Eden said as she continued to seductively

press her body into Kevin's muscled frame.

"Whatever." Kevin pushed Eden at arms length. "I'm not making the same mistake twice. Don't

you remember the last time? My dad and your dad both went ballistic."

"What's the matter? Don't you love me any more?"

Kevin rolled his eyes then remembered Philip when he suddenly returned to the line.

"Philip. Deal with whatever you have to deal with there," Kevin said into the phone receiver. "I

have bigger fish to fry."

It had taken a few minutes but Faith finally realized who was lying on her legs. It was Heckle from

upstairs. Jeckle, she decided, must have either escaped or fallen elsewhere.

Surprisingly, there wasn't a lot of debris in the area she'd fallen. Only a small amount right under

the hole. The rest felt shiny and new.

"Okay, please explain to me how the entire monastery caved in and yet here there is not one

loose rock or broken tile?" Faith sighed and felt her way along the wall. It was so dark they

couldn't see a hand in front of their face.

"I don't know," Phoenix said, coughing a bit. "You got me. Maybe it's a miracle."

"Yeah, right. Not going to buy that one. I'm more likely to believe that it's an elaborately

planned..." Faith paused when her hand touched something. "Oh, light switch."

The room flooded with brightness. Light bounced off the metallic walls like mini stars.

"I think you're right. This is an elaborately planned something." Phoenix coughed again. This time

blood spattered on his hand as he covered his mouth. He wiped the redness away hoping Faith

had not seen it.

The moan came again. It was louder now.

"I think we're going in the right direction. This way."

Faith raced down the long hallway completely oblivious to the fact that her own hand was injured

and bleeding. She disappeared into one of the rooms off the hallway. Phoenix tried to keep up but

found it wasn't as easy to run as it use to be. Her scream made his feet move a little faster.

"What's wrong?" he said as he joined her, wheezing from the workout. "Look. It's my brother,

Ethan." The first thing Phoenix noticed was the postcard peeking out of her brother's jacket

pocket. He had watched Ethan retrieve that postcard. How many days ago had it been? It

seemed like eons.

The wound on Ethan Fairchild's shoulder was still there covered by the bad patch job his sister,

Scarlett, had performed. But the most disturbing part were the wires. There had to be at least

twenty. They were trailing from a panel on the wall into Ethan's head, neck and chest.

"Oh, my God." she cried. "They’ve turned my brother into Frankenstein!"