Subject:  Re: Out of the Darkness III |
Author:
Cathy Myers
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Date Posted: 16:44:17 03/11/01 Sun
In reply to:
Cathy Myers
's message, "Out of the Darkness III" on 14:52:46 03/11/01 Sun
Out of the Darkness - Part III
Red cell was alive with movement. Having destroyed their former base of operation, they worked to fortify their new stronghold against the upcoming attack. Frank Evans stood unobserved in a shadowed doorway. He watched the frenzied activity with a sense of foreboding. Frank had worked at Red Cell for over ten years, and what he saw now, alarmed him.
The sense of purpose that he had felt so strongly in the early years had long since faded into complacence, but under the direction of Chester Manfield it had mutated into something subtly more sinister. Red Cell no longer fought for the people. It had become a band of fanatics led by a madman. Frank dreaded the future as much as he welcomed its judgment. He longed for the end and knew, that he wouldn't have long to wait.
* * * *
Michael crouched in the woods and waited for the signal that his men were in place. The air was damp in the night woods, and the woods were alive with activity. Denied the cover of darkness, the teams sought refuge as best they could under the bright light of the florescent moon overhead. Michael studied the layout of their target location on his PDA.
"Birkoff, have you scanned the area?"
Birkoff turned to the screen which revealed the infra-red scan. "Scanning, now, Michael. The building is filled with hostiles."
"What are our chances in an open attack?"
"Not good, less than seven percent."
Michael scanned the perimeter, first with his field glasses, and then, with infra-red. "What is our highest probable point of entry, Birkoff?"
Birkoff looked closely at the computer. "The northeast corner is the least guarded, but the odds are still in their favor. Wait a minute, I'm detecting an auto-scan SAT detector. Michael, get out of there! You're a sitting duck with that kind of a system. Get out, now!" Even as Birkoff ended the transmission, he could hear the sound of gun-fire in the background.
As Michael changed the channel to alert his men, he felt a sharp pain rip across the side of his head. His knees buckled, and even as he reached out to steady himself, his whole world gave way to total darkness.
* * * *
Burning, persistent pain throbbed and danced inside of Michael's head as his consciousness, slowly, returned. Not knowing what had happened or where he was, Section One's most valuable operative waited, lying perfectly still, and allowing his senses time to feed him data about his surroundings. Not detecting anything that seemed ominous or threatening, Michael opened his eyes.
He was lying on a simple steel cot in a eight foot room with no windows. Because the ceiling lights in the room were on, Michael realized that he was, most probably, being observed. He wondered about the fate of his men.
Trying to raise himself to a sitting position, Michael was temporarily stunned by the blinding pain in his head. He reached his hand up, carefully, to assess the extent of his injuries, and to his surprise, he discovered that his head was wrapped in bandages. Unusual care for a man condemned to die, Michael thought as he sat up completely. Of course, he had to acknowledge, he was much more valuable to Red Cell alive than dead. Michael's thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room swung open and a uniformed guard entered.
"You are to come with me," he said in a flat voice.
Led by two guards and flanked by two more, Michael's face held more than a hint of amusement when he was brought to stand in front of Chester Manfield.
"You must feel that even wounded and unarmed, I'm a pretty dangerous man," he said equably.
"Please, have a seat." Chester smiled, and with a flick of his wrist, dismissed the guards surrounding Michael.
"I know that you are a very dangerous man, Mr. Samuell. I, also, know that I am safe as long as I have what you want most."
"Is she still alive?" Michael asked without preamble.
"Yes, for now. Our monitors indicate that her breathing and respiration are normal. I estimate that she has another twenty-four hours, give or take."
Michael leaned forward, the look on his face intense. "Release her, and I'll give you what you want."
"Yes, Mr. Samuell, you will give me what I want, but for right now, I'm enjoying our little game. You are a worthy adversary, and for your sake, as well as mine, I wish to prolong the inevitable. That, being, of course, my victory, and your death."
Michael forced himself to relax and present a confidence he was far from feeling. "Let Nikita go, and we'll play any game that you like."
Chester laughed. "Mr. Samuell, or may I call you, Michael?" At Michael's slight nod, Chester continued, "Michael, I want you to be at your best. Nikita is my insurance that you will be."
"All right. What do you want me to do?"
"I propose a contest to the death, winner take all."
Michael nodded his agreement. "What are your terms?"
"Very simple, really." Chester paused, relishing the moment for which he had so carefully planned. Smiling to himself as if he were enjoying some private joke, he continued, "I am going to release you. Only you. Your men I will keep as added collateral. I will arm you with a single clue, a little poem, a riddle of sorts.
If you're as smart as I think you are, the clue will lead you to your beloved. If you find her, in time, you will win, and I'll release your men unharmed. If you do not, I will win, and your men will all be executed. We will, of course, extract all possible information, first."
"Of course." Michael agreed. "What is the clue?"
"Patience, Michael. You and I are not quite finished."
"Go on." Michael schooled his features to remain blank, and to dismiss from his mind's eye the pictures of Manfield's destruction by his hand.
"While treating your wound, which was superficial by the way and an accident on the part of my men, we discovered your communication chip and had it destroyed. During your quest, you must work completely alone. Any attempt on your part to communicate with Section will result in Nikita's immediate death. I will have several men tracking you to ensure your cooperation. Do we understand each other?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any questions?"
"Yes. What is the clue?"
Chester Manfield smiled in satisfaction. "That's what I like about you, Michael; you're always so focused." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single piece of folded paper. He gave it one last glance before handing it to Michael.
Michael smiled as he read the cryptic lines:
If a picture's worth a thousand words,
And East and West are true,
When Alpha and Omega reign
Only one spot will do.
When he had finished, he looked up at Chester Manfield, the smile still planted on his face.
"Let's play," he said. "Let the game begin."
The End of Part III
Cathy R. Myers
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