by Prometheus
The small door to the secondary cabin opened, and Turkish Stringfellow's tall frame squeezed through and up. His head continued a bent arch, the back of his head mere centimeters from the ceiling. Striding calmly up the aisle, hand folded behind him, his glanced toward the forward section, noticing a new arrival.
"Sir," Dana began, meeting him halfway, "we'll be landing in a minute. I need you to take a seat an--"
"It is okay," he replied, his eyes still on the new passenger, "inertia and I are old friends. It will cause me no harm."
Dana stared up at the man, not quite sure what to say, or even what he meant. Before she had the chance to reply, he pushed by her, making his way up to Danny Hearn's cautious hold on the pilot.
Danny watched silently as Stringfellow slid down into the seat in front of his position. The smooth, leather contours of the posh seating gripped his waist tightly as he swiveled the chair to face the two men.
"Hello." He nodded toward Danny, a curious look on his face at the situation.
"Hey, uh... Stringfellow," Danny replied, his claw still firmly etched along the man's throat. "You've been quiet back there."
"Mmmm." Turkish nodded, contemplating the pilot. "I... dislike... such a cramped space. Meditating helps. But, not much."
"I see," Hearn replied, still somewhat withdrawn from the man.
"Is this man an enemy?" Turkish finally asked, the pilot's wide eyes pleading to him for help.
"You could say that," Danny said nodding, a snarl appearing as he looked over at the pilot. "He was following us."
"I know." Turkish nodded.
"You... knew?" Danny asked. "Why the hell didn't you say something, then? Whose side are you on, Stringfellow?"
Turkish stared at him with an honest expression. "I am not on any side... Daniel, is it?"
"Danny. And what do you mean by that?" he replied quickly.
Turkish shrugged. "I have no understanding of who and what you consider an enemy. I have no knowledge of what our goals are, what we are to protect, or even battle," he explained, his fingers wrapped casually together in his lap. "My agreement with Mr. Piper is to perform needed tasks, as seen fit by this organization. In this, I will only act if I understand a threat, ordered to do so, or in self-defense."
"Well, how exactly did you know we were being followed, then?"
"How did you know we were being followed?" Turkish replied with a smile.
"Eagle eyes," Danny stated. "I caught a shadow off our wing through the port window. Measuring the angle of the sun, I realized that it couldn't have been from our plane itself; therefore, I knew something was swinging in and out behind us."
Turkish nodded, his eyebrows arched. "Impressive analytical skills." He bowed a bit in respect.
"Thanks." Danny shrugged. "And you?"
"The sky told me."
"The... sky... told you?" Danny asked, his brow creasing.
"You would not understand."
"Try me."
Turkish sighed a bit. "Well, I asked the wind to part a storm I sensed ahead, giving us safe journey. It conceded, which surprised me a bit, as the atmosphere and I -- while on good terms -- sometimes tend to disagree. Nevertheless, it asked me if it should do the same for the secondary vessel behind us. As I did not know the origin or intent of such a craft, I agreed to it."
Danny just stared at him for a moment, in utter silence. "You and Naecken get along great, don't you?"
"Yes. Why do you ask?"
"Never mind."
"P-p-please... help m-me," Wesley Tucker, the pilot, gasped. "They're going to k-kill me..."
Turkish frowned, cutting his eyes at Danny. "Is this true?" he asked calmly.
"I want to know why he was following us," Danny replied with a solemn voice. "He's EPS. That could mean trouble for us."
Turkish studied Danny's eyes. "I do not sense a killer in you," he stated formally.
"Then you aren't looking deep enough," Danny replied, his eyes emphasizing a certain exaggeration.
"Ah... I see." Turkish said with a nod, understanding the the threatening bluff he was presenting for pressure. "Perhaps I can... expediate things?"
Danny looked at him cautiously. "What do you have in mind?" he asked.
Turkish calmly reached forth, slowly pulling the claw from the pilot's throat. The pilot immediately began gasping for air, sweat dripping from his terrified form.
Stringfellow stared long and hard at the pilot, finally getting an even amount of eye contact. "Why are you here?"
Danny winced a bit, swearing there was a high-pitched whine to the words, like a resonance, just out of range.
"I... I told you," Wesley began, his eyes becoming locked with Turkish's quasi-purple stare. "I was just on a routine flight... to... to..." His voice began to fade as Stringfellow's will slowly crept into domination.
"I'm sure you want to tell me what you know," Turkish's voice resonated. "After all... I am your superior officer. You intend to report to me... right?"
The pilot began nodding, his eyes locked and glazed. "Yes... yes, sir." He nodded. "I tracked the metas successfully... as ordered."
"And the... EPS... we are proud of your service... aren't we?"
"Yes." The pilot slowly nodded, gaining a proud expression. "I... serve... my team... with honor... sir."
Turkish nodded, smiling. "Yes, you do. Tell me something, just so I'm clear... why were you following the... metas?"
"Because... because you ordered me to do so... sir."
"Okay... and... who am I?"
The pilot struggled for a moment, a look of concern crossing his features.
"Who am I?" Turkish re-emphasized.
"Y-you... you're... you're..." he stammered, his eyes growing wider and wider.
Suddenly, Turkish recoiled with a painful grunt as the man's eyes rolled into his sockets. Blood began pouring from his nose, as his head lulled against the window with a thud.
"What happened?!" Danny asked, staring at Turkish and glancing at the man.
Turkish sat for a moment, gripping his temples with gritted teeth. "Pandora's box," he replied.
"What?"
"A Pandora's box..." he repeated, beginning to straighten up a bit, gathering his dignity together, "...a mental failsafe, placed in case of interrogation. He's brain-dead, now. The capillaries are set to burst if he attempts to reveal any forbidden information."
"So, that's it? That's all we get?" Danny asked with concern.
"You would not have gotten any more, either way. I... asked him to open his thoughts. Even if he had done it on his own, the failsafe would have activated, no matter what."
Danny slammed his fist against the armrest. "Those crafty bastards," he sighed.
"This... EPS... are they enemies?"
Danny nodded with a snarl. "You're damn right they are, Stringfellow. You're damn right."