by TheTimeTrust and Captain Sammitch
The Fish Factory, La Perdita:
The telephone rang. It was getting close to dawn, but he'd had no sleep at all this night. Kit Piper picked it up. He was still quite shaken by the events of the last two days, but he was beginning to gain new hope for his daughters' welfare. "Uh... hello? Kit Piper here. How can I help you?"
"Piper."
"Griffin?!" Kit exclaimed, his face brightening considerably. "My God, man, have you found the locations of my daughters already?"
"Tell Mr. Montag and his young... friend... a-heh... to check their pockets. I'm sure they'll find therein all necessary information on the location of your daughters and their mother. I'll expect to see half of my total fee wired to my Swiss bank account within the next six hours. I will contact you again once the second level of the job you've hired me for is complete."
"Uh, sure, sure..." Kit said, smiling. "Well, uh, should I shoot you an e-mail to let you know when the boys have done their job, or--?"
"No need, no need. I will know." At that, the man known only as Griffin hung up the receiver on the other line.
Kit Piper clicked a button on the intercom and spoke into it. "Griss, Phil -- check your pockets, guys. Your mission is a go!" The butterflies in his stomach were still giving him problems, and his nerves could only be sated through a walk around the factory until he heard back from the guys.
The temporary president of MBL Consulting stepped out of his makeshift office and just started walking around. He didn't know if he would see prison time for embezzling from the company or not, but he knew his days as president and financial adviser were numbered. What would the guys do when they found out what he'd done? Would they take into consideration his desperation to save his daughters' lives when they passed their judgement on him? Kit didn't want to think about it. Not now. Not now.
"Daniela?" he said as he walked down a hallway and saw the teenaged former member of La Perdita's PSI Unit standing completely still in the center, staring off into space in a daze as if left there by neglect. "Hey, girl, how are you doing? Coping all right?"
She didn't answer.
"Daniela?" Kit waved a pudgy hand across her face before her eyes. Nothing. No response whatsoever. "Hey, girl, what's going--?" he began, cutting himself off as he tried to place a hand on her shoulder, only to find that it passed completely through her, as if she were a phantom. A moment later, she simply seemed to completely dissolve. It was as if she were a formation of gad that had been held in a certain solid shape until the moment he tried to touch her, and then evaporated.
"What the--?!" Kit exclaimed, not knowing what to think as his heart raced for what seemed like the millionth time in the last few days. He stood there for a few moments more, wondering if this kind of thing always happened around these metahuman folks.
"Ready to roll out, Philsy?" Grissom Montag asked as he slung his backpack over one shoulder.
Phil Smith nodded. "Just about." He sat by the window in Gabi Rivera's room in the Fish Factory and looked out at the ocean. "Gathering my thoughts." He smirked. "I guess that's a good thing for a telepath to do once in a while."
The mercenary nodded. "Must be rough on you."
"What's that?"
Grissom shrugged. "Well, Gabi's dead, the guy responsible for her dying is out there somewhere, Leslie left, and you're about to go out and do more of what you did in New York. Don't tell me that doesn't get to you."
Phil turned. "I can't deny that. Honestly, there's not too much keeping me going right now."
"But?"
"But I can't just cease to function. We've got a job to do here. There's a very desperate man who needs his kids back. And that," Phil said, "is a situation in which I definitely can function." He looked back out the window. "When all this is over, I'm sure I'll have a lot to think about. But I can't have all that on my mind when I'm out there on a mission."
"I have to know one thing," Grissom said.
"And that is?"
"When this is over," the mercenary asked, "are you leaving too?"
There was a long silence.
"I... I don't know," Phil said hesitantly. "You guys... this team... it's all I have left. I don't know if I can walk away from that."
"Not even if you could find out who you are?"
Phil shook his head. "Honestly, with some of the things I've done, I'm not sure I want to know who I really am. All that matters now is that I'm Phil Smith of the MBL. My identity -- like your identity -- is tied to this team now, no matter what happens. All I'm concentrating on is this mission. I'll worry about everything else once I get the chance."
Grissom nodded. "Fair enough." He looked at his watch. "We'll be in touch," he said, indicating the tiny high-frequency earpiece in his right ear. "How are you planning on getting there without arousing the suspicion of any of those blokes who might be watching?"
Phil smiled. "You forget with whom you're dealing, my friend. I'm creative."
Grissom shrugged. "Take care of yourself, mate." He turned and headed down to the motor pool, Intrepid keys in hand.
Phil got up to close the window and noticed two scraps of paper tucked beneath the comforter. He picked them up and read the first one, a torn-out scrap of journal paper.
Phil,
If you get this, it probably means that something's happened, and I'm no longer there with you...
It was from Gabi. Phil tucked it into his wallet carefully. He would read it later, when he could afford the emotional distraction.
The second was a folded piece of notebook paper with neatly printed writing on it.
Phil,
I guess I should start by saying I'm really sorry everything happened this way. It all came up so fast that I don't think either of us knew what to make of it. I'm really sorry about Gabi. I never really knew her, but I know she was very important to you.
Anyway, I'm leaving now, but I wanted to leave this for you, and I figured you'd wind up in here at some point. I know you're really torn up over this whole situation, but I want you to know that my offer still stands. I don't know when I'll see you again, but I do know that my feelings for you haven't changed. I'm sure that's cold comfort now, as I'm not there and someone you love very much was just taken from you, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I never let you know that I care about you.
I really want to keep in touch, but I don't know how easy that will be where I'm going. Turner, if that's even his real name, sounded like he was all business. Anyway, I have a strong-encrypted text-messaging system in my phone and palmtop, and I want you to have it so you can communicate with me. The addresses and encryption sequences are at the bottom of this page.
Please get in touch with me soon. I really need to hear from you.
Love always,
Leslie
Phil folded the paper up and put it in his wallet with the other note. He would deal with this later.
Phil looked in the mirror. If this mobster had spies all over the place, then chances were that they knew who he was and what he looked like. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.
It was time to get to work.