"These Three Remain, Part 2: Stolen/Hope"
June 23, 2008 Outside of Newton, NJ 1140 hours Paige pulled over at the scenic overlook off of 206. His instructions had been explicit and she had expected nothing less from him. She put the top back up on the beloved Mustang and got out. Pulling her sunglasses off she squinted in the sunshine. It wouldn't last though, she could smell the rain coming. She observed the small family, mom, dad, and little girl, sitting at one of the picnic benches placed by the main part of the overlook. She eyed them for a moment longer before she set the alarm to her car and dropped the keys in her cargo pants. The other pocket was already full. ----------------------------- The call had come, and she would follow. So this was it. The time of reckoning. Lying in his new blind just off the trail from the overlook, Kihn mentally re-examined his motives, objectives, contingency plans. Primarilly, he wanted to meet Paige, to see her again. Dangerous as he knew it to be, he cared for her, wanted to know she was well. And then there was that hope that he'd almost denied himself, couldn't even consider at any length; The hope that he would have the opportunity to offer her the freedom, the true freedom that could not be taken away by any man, which he had found. Of course, aside from the intervention of the Great Spirit it would take some time and trial to go from Section slave to willful servant of the Great Spirit. He couldn't expect too much, too soon, and it wasn't his job, anyway. So, for now, his mission was to assess the current nature of their relationship, keep it as positive as possible, and give her the opportunity to come with him. Might not work, but it was worth the try. Alternativelly, he had his weapons, or he could run. He had chosen the routs, set the alarms and snares on the backtrail, and he would be as ready as he could be for whatever occured. ---------------------------------- She walked over to a trail that led off the scenic overview. She smiled looking down at her red tank top, he will get a kick out of it. She started up the trail, each step bringing her further into the woods, further into his area of expertise. She walked about ten minutes before she reached into her cargo pants and pulled out her gun. She screwed the silencer on and tucked it into the back of her pants. She made no effort to hide it. She also made no effort to be quiet, walking with a purpose, scuffling leaves and kicking small stones. This part of New Jersey had a lot of stones. ------------------------------------ And here she was, her appearance stunning as usual, but harder, somehow, than he'd seen before. Oh, sure, her face was set with determination, hostility, perhaps, but that wasn't unexpected. Kihn watched her, lying 20 feet off the trail, a little behind her. She'd just passed him, and was about to enter the clearing where the meet would happen, or not. Ever so slowly, he reached his hand down to the proper speed dial button on his phone, and paused, waiting, watching. She still wore the cast, from where she'd broken her wrist in the fall, but was used to it by now, and could probably use her hand as fully as before. The red tank top left plenty of skin exposed, and he made the effort to tear his eyes from it and assess her tactically. There was her primary piece, the standard 9mm, it looked like, probably with a silencer. Had to be uncomfortable where she packed it, and it would take her precious time to draw it, especially with the silencer. Silencer: An assasin's tool. Was THAT her reason for coming? He could only wait and see. --------------------------------------- She paused for a moment outside of a clearing. Her senses reached out...it was too quiet. No matter. She walked into the clearing, uncomfortably out in the open, considering her target, but then, she was so on top of her game, or so mad - it didn't really matter which - she wasn't worried about him hitting her. He was too 'good' for that now, anyway. And he certainly couldn't sneak up on her. She kept walking, when her phone vibrated. "Yeah?" "It is Kihn. Do you want to talk?" She laughed at his statement of the obvious, contempt ringing clear in her voice. "I'm here aren't I?" He ignored her tone of voice, as she'd always had that sarcastic side. How she felt, though, or what she wanted him to think she felt, was quite irrelevant. The only question was what she would do. "I will take that as a yes. I intend you no harm, so if you would not mind removing your weapons, I would appreciate it." At least he was polite. "I don't think so. Last time you intended to do no harm I got my ass kicked." Instead of a verbal response, her eye was drawn by a bright red dot, laser sight, her mind automatically registered, appearing on a tree in front of her. It flickered, and then, as she knew it would, re-appeared on her upper chest. Being able to speak to Paige on the phone via his radio-shack hands free mic, Kihn had an easy time maneuvering his modified glock 10 mm aiming with unflinching accuracy at her upper chest, above the level that might be covered by any concealed flack vest. Of course, it would be difficult to conceal anything under that tank top, but the aim was almost force of habit. Then the verbal response. "Last time, I was their slave. I am now God's slave. But I guarantee you, no one else is here to harm you, and if I wished to, I would have done so already." She ignored his remarks. It wasn't like they mattered. No, not this time. This time his sugary words would have no more effect on her. "This is how it's gonna be," she asserted in a very nasty voice, "you're gonna put your stupid gun away and come out where I can see you - or I walk and call you in." He almost had to chuckle, but maintained control. She still thought SHE could be in control of the situation, it seemed. But Kihn was too used to command to give it up so easily, and with just the two of them, it could get far too dangerous if he did not maintain the initiative. "So you haven't called me in already. Noble of you. I appreciate that much. But tell me, what do I lose, and what do you gain, by your walking?" "You have three seconds." The steely resolve was readily heard in her voice. She would not be dominated again. Nothing happened, for one second. "One," her eyes constantly scanned the edge of woods nearest her. That was supposed to be his kind of line. Or had been, for the old Kihn. It seemed she'd learned a few things in his absence. But his purpose remained contact, to deal with her, to establish the nature of their relationship. He'd lose little by showing himself, and could still accomplish his mission. He rose carefully, feeling his way through his hand made moccasins, never taking his eyes off of his target, and began to make his way along his chosen path, parallel to the one Paige had been hiking along. ------------------------------------- A noise, off behind her and to her right, in the woods. Movement, human, Eric sized. It paralleled her path for several yards, and then drew nearer until she observed him, coldly, as he emerged from the thickets ahead of her. He was dressed in what must have been another civilian's extra cool weather clothing, earthy tones, and a load bearing vest decked out to his usual taste. Fewer lethal weapons, though. He walked in his usual way, a sort of glide to his step, the hand-made moccasins hiding any sound made by his footfalls. Even so, she was immediately aware of his injuries, medic that she was. Bruised maybe broken ribs, sprained ankle or knee, and a blunt trauma to the head, about a month old, from the looks of them. She smirked in satisfaction at his suffering. Her smirk quickly disappeared, though, into a cold stare. Neither of them were into the games anymore, it seemed. He approached as he would have a potentially armed and dangerous, but not currently threatening hostile. In his assessment, he was probably half right. At any rate, he acted it, stepping carefully without dropping his eyes from her, his glock 10 mm semi-auto pistol extended, laser sight still on her chest. As usual, nothing could be read in his face, though something might be different...she shoved the thought to the back of her mind. Irrelevant. "Tough day?" bitch tone, regarding again his injuries. He ignored her comment, as usual jumping straight to the issue at hand. "I will put this away as soon as I believe you do not pose a threat to me." "I don't suggest then...that you put it away." Her voice was flat as she continued to stare at him. "I already know you were not followed, and I can escape them even if they do come, should I choose to run. You do not have snipers. I would know that too. So you have come to talk, or to die." A half truth, Kihn knew. He wasn't about to kill her, laser site not-withstanding. It was a bluff, plain and simple. It was the act he figured he had to play, to gain the desired reaction. And what she would expect of him, probably. It wasn't time, yet, to tell her the full truth. So, if she didn't want to talk, she would want to kill him, and if she tried to kill him, she would expect him to be confident in his ability to kill her, instead. So he said what he had to. She shrugged. She would listen for now. He nodded, ever so slightly, stopped at ten yards and held his position, the standard weaver stance, weapon extended in his right hand, supported by his left under the grip. Now to begin. "Do you know why I called you here?" "Aren't you more interested in why I called you?" she smiled sweetly at him. He didn't respond right away but she could see his mind racing. "No," he said flatly, "it is apparent you want to 'settle up' as they say." Paige walked towards him closing the distance between them. She stopped near him her eyes fixed on his, "settle up...is not the term I would use." He moved, taking a step away from her and his free hand, the one not holding a gun on her, dropped to the hilt of his knife. She enjoyed the response she elicited from him. Though, she thought, she might enjoy any response she got from him. "So are you going to answer my question, or try to do what you came to, without the chatter?" Time was his enemy, though he wouldn't intentionally let on that he had any. They needed to get out of here, together or separately, sooner rather than later. And he didn't have the patience or understanding for her, for their games any more. Yes, their games. She, perhaps, was now theirs, just as fully as Michael, Joshua, and the others had been theirs. He hoped, desperately, this wasn't the case, that she could still be salvaged, prayed quickly to the Great Spirit that it would be so. Still, he had to assume and act on the assumption of the worst, or at least verify the status before he let down his guard at all. But, the preacher had said, God would protect him. All well and good, but did God stop bullets? And did it say anywhere that His servants couldn't bluff or use threats any more? What he would do without psychological warfare techniques Kihn didn't have a clue. Smart boy, she smirked at him. His eyes had dropped to her shoulders in order to watch her every move, try to anticipate an attack from her. It was unnecessary, but then given the nature of the beast Kihn, she supposed, it was just a reflex. "Ok," she sighed sarcastically, "why dya call?" She crossed her arms over her chest looking thoroughly bored. "The question was for you. Do you not know?" "I do not know," she shook her head. That was surprising. His reasons, objectives, were quite similar to those he'd had ever since he recognized the nature of their "employer," and the two of them had spoken of a potential escape on several occasions. She knew this, didn't she? Wasn't it what everything was about? The relationships of the operatives to each other, and how they'd extricate themselves from their relationship with Section? "I thought you might want out," he said quietly. Oh, here we go, she thought and fought off the urge to roll her eyes. It was back to this notion of leaving, a notion she would never take. Not with Joshua so involved in her life. Not with so much at stake now. When she didn't reply immediately, he continued. "It is easier to live on the run with a companion. I would like to take you with me. Now...I doubt there was any point in my trying but...I cared enough to do so anyway." His stance relaxed as he took a step further away from her. She'd come to talk, it seemed, and wasn't immediately going to try to kill him, and there was nothing more he could do for her. No point in dragging this out any longer. Was he kidding? After all he had done to her, all she had done to him, the destructiveness of them just being in the same room...god, he had nerve. "Live on the run," she nodded with a condescending smirk, "a companion. Do you really think that's what I want? Huh?" She took a step closer to him and she could feel the anger seeping into her system and the gun begging her to remove it from her cargoes. What, then, DID she want? To right wrongs? To do wrong? To control things? He didn't have a clue. It had never occured to him that she might not want out. He'd been convinced she was one of the 5%ers, but apparently had been wrong, or at least, now was. But there remained no point in finding what she wanted. Clearly, it was not to deal with him, and he couldn't change that. He shrugged at her, "it appears that I have never known what you wanted, least of all now. You have changed." "I have changed," she said quietly. Ignoring his weapon she stepped even closer to him, invading his personal space, giving him no choice but to look her in the eyes. As if in a mirror reaction to her step toward him, his right foot dropped back, along with the gun, now held in just his right hand and out of easy range for a disarming move. Yet the laser point, no doubt, remained on the center of her upper chest. The tension, as if it hadn't been sufficiently high already, soared. One wrong move, and one of them might die. "You're one of the reasons I've changed." She reached up slowly to touch his face. He moved quickly, almost too quick for her to see so focused on his face as she was. He holstered his weapon and brought his knife up to stop her advancing hand. "And you believe that change will be sufficient?" She smiled at him, "perhaps I'm not the only one who has changed." And she relinquished her position in his space. "Like it or not, you are also one of the reasons that *I* have changed," he said flatly, a beat, and then, "but this is not a very effective way to kill an armed man. So what will you do?" "Well," she sighed, "I can't take the chance that 5 days or 5 years from now you''ll come waltzing back into my life demanding something from me...wanting something...with your words...with your hands...so..." she pulled her weapon out from her cargoes. She anticipated he would never let her get her weapon aimed and readied. Not to disappoint, he stepped into her pulling her weapon hand past his head, pulling her close to him, into him, so that her chest was against his. She glared at him as she felt the cold metal of the knife against her throat. "I respect that," he whispered, "and give you my word, for what little it may be worth." Very little, she thought to him as he squeezed her wrist bending it backwards to try and release her gun. She saved him the trouble, "you can have it," she said letting go of the weapon. She sighed as he let her go, stepping back and taking the knife and gun with him, dropping its magazine and ejecting the chambered cartridge with the one hand. He would note, as she watched his reaction, that two bullets were missing from the clip. Although she had no weapon now save for the useless knife on her ankle, at least she didn't have the murder weapon anymore either. She wondered if she could pin the whole thing on Kihn should she get caught? That was something to think about, but not right now. "You're still good at taking things from me," she said softly. He acknowledged her comment with a glance to the mag. "You have been busy," he said before tossing the gun behind him. He redirected his full attention on her, "but I have no desire to risk your wrath or that of Section's by, 'waltzing back into your life,' 5 days or years from now, unbidden. In fact," he tilted his head slightly, "I would much rather you let me disappear by my own means." She twitched and her eyes narrowed as she followed his movement. He wasn't leaving. But there he was, stepping away from her with all intent on leaving. What the fuck? No, she was in control of this, she called the shots, she was the one who would let him go when she decided to...not him. It was time. "Maa noko'sa, maa itan ((my child, my daughter))," she spoke the words clearly though they still hurt her tongue. She felt a rush of adrenaline as he froze staring at her. "Miinatt ko'pohpa ((do not be afraid))," she did not know the meaning of the words, but he did. He recognized the words as what he had spoken for his daughter. She could see the struggle in his eyes though his face remained passive. He did not know what to make of it, that Paige had begun to recite the words he had taught her so long ago at Stratus. The words drilled into her by him so that she may relay them to his daughter. She gave him her best 'you're getting it now' smirk. "Section didn't know everything about me," she said quietly. It was true that Madeline had worked with her to try and increase her capacity for remembering verbal instructions and lists. Madeline just didn't know how effective the schooling had been. "You would hurt her, for revenge on me?" And why did he sound shocked? "Not revenge," she shook her head, "to protect ME...from you." "What?" he looked bewildered now, his oh so carefully schooled neutral veneer gone. She tried to remember if she had ever seen him confused before. She didn't think so. But then, she was real good at confusing people lately. "How would hurting the only thing I love, other than yourself and my new master, protect you? Would it not bring me down upon you with whatever vengeance I had?" Ok, well there was THAT perspective. But this was about self-preservation, this was about saving her own life. "If you come back into my life or try to contact me," she spoke evenly but with warning, "I will hunt her down...and I will kill her." She wasn't sure if Kihn believed her threat or not. If he did try to contact her after this ended would she go after the daughter? Would she systematically hunt the innocent down and kill her? Would she go to such drastic lengths to protect her own life? You're damn right she would. Well then. She'd finally made her purpose clear, just as he had earlier, but her purpose remained far more malignant. They HAD gotten her, after all, which meant he had to treat her, not as the one he loved, not as a friend, ally, asset, or one he might save, but as an enemy. It generally helped to make sure all players understood the nature of a standoff. It prevented one from thinking they had such full control that they would do something stupid. "You can not live with me coming back and will kill to ensure it. And I can not live with that threat." Apparently, he believed, too. He continued, "I do not suppose you imagined a mutually agreeable resolution to this?" "No," she shook her head, "this is it. This is how it's going to be." Presumptuous of her, but then, Section had taught them to appear confident. "No," he responded, now in the same spirit. "It will not be that way. I will not permit it." That was interesting. His attitude was changing again, in the midst of the confrontation. She clenched her jaw staring at him. Why was he always so difficult? "Fine," she said flatly and pulled the knife from her ankle. He immediately stepped into something approaching a defensive stance, not as though he expected the attack that would come immanently, though he knew it to be possible. He was ready, should she indicate a beginning of action. She could see his mind working, trying to sort out her intentions and a way out of the fight she was fixing on starting. He had been injured, not so long ago; her well trained eyes had picked that out easily enough, the slight limp, the guarding. In a hand to hand fight, which is what she intended, she would beat him. Unless of course... As her weight shifted, preparatory to a strike, he drew and raised his weapon again, one smooth motion, instantly acquiring an accurate aim on her shoulder. But it was too late to diffuse the situation, as she moved to close the short distance, to strike, the blade leading, and he depressed the curved, matte black steel of the trigger. There was no decision making process involved, no more assessing of the situation, consideration of consequences, regret or guilt. There was only a threat, quite simply, and he automatically responded, as planned in advance, to neutralize it. That was all there was. No thought, only action. ...he shot her. He shot her! She was forced to take a step back as the bullet ripped into her shoulder from such close range. It should hurt more, her mind reported. She looked down seeing the bright tuft of fabric. That was no bullet. It was a tranquilizer. A fucking tranquilizer? That was worse than being shot! If she'd been shot at least she would've been able to defend herself. But completely incapacitated...she was now at his mercy. She looked back up to him, "you son of a..." The statement uncompleted, Paige dropped limply, the dart still embedded into her shoulder. He stepped forward, catching her before she hit the ground, grunting under her weight, his injured ribs dealing only with difficulty as his lungs expanded to hold the breath needed for the action. So it had come to this. They were now beyond the point of no return. For the sake of the preservation of his own and his daughter's life, he now had to keep her with him, under his control. Even if she tried to keep her end of the deal she'd proposed, someone might get ahold of her, and she might let out that bit of priceless information in return for a cessation of torture, or whatever. That simply could not remain an option, yet he could not, now, bring himself to kill her. So it was on to plan C. Return