Secrets
Declan watched the exchange, something was going on there, an undercurrent of meaning that he missed. He glanced at the kids, they didn't seem to know either, and Simon was busy doing his own thing. He didn't consider himself to be a naturally uber-observant kind of guy, but the double meanings were so apparent to him. And the three of them…they knew what the meanings were. There was a club there, these three women were in it and he wasn't. And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He sighed. If there was something he'd learned in the course of his life was that women had secrets, and they kept them sometimes to the death. Even so, he would ask someone about it when he could. But would he get an answer? More importantly, would he get the right one? He watched the kids and smirked at the smart arse comments being made by one of them in relation to the discussion. He liked smart arses, he couldn't help it, probably came from being one himself. But in the end it was two to one and Paige wasn't happy. She was on the losing end. He had expected as much, letting the kids go was not only irresponsible but morally wrong…after all, they had their objectives. Those being straightforward, or so he thought: bring them in unharmed. What was then, her problem? And what place did she allude to? Where would they be going? He wasn't naïve, he'd heard of government programs where gifted minds were recruited for government purposes…but still, Paige hinted at these kind of places as if they were all that bad…as if it were against wills, against choice, and nothing but…death. This notion irked him somewhere deep inside. He would ask about it, what Paige meant, but it wouldn't be directed at Paige. And as he watched the dark haired beauty make her way out of the cafeteria and to the front of the building, he knew who would give him some answers. Hopefully, he reminded himself, hopefully he would get some answers. Jordan dragged Paige off and he cringed internally, there was nothing like being taken into private to have strips torn off you. So that was the dynamic of this group, the team leader was most definitely in charge, no matter which was the team leader. Good, he thought, that settled any possible disputes, no question as the chain of command. Then he wondered when command would be his? And would this group, this club, offer up the respect they did each other? Declan sat with the kids as they began talking a bit, nothing too deep, and they didn't ask him questions. Smart kids, knowing when they'll get an answer or not. Suddenly, looking at their young eager and confused faces, he was reminded of himself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Declan!" His mother's whispered tone brought him out of slumber into a fully awakened state in seconds. That just wasn't right to do to someone. "It's Bride, come." He moved out of bed quickly and dressed in the half lit room. The hallway light was on filling the other side of the room with a dim light, leaving his side in darkness. What time was it? He looked to the dresser and the alarm clock's glowing red numbers, 3:30 am. Only bad things happen at this hour, his studies had told him that. Dreams. He pulled his shirt on suddenly thinking of his studies. Berkley, he'd been lucky enough to get a scholarship and move the family to California. It had been the best opportunity they'd had since dad retired from police work. And like a good son, he studied Criminal Justice with the hopes of becoming a police officer. Dreams, everyone had them. "It's your sister," his mother's shadow blocked the little light that filtered in from the hallway. Her tone of voice broke his heart. It was not good news. "What happened?" he asked almost afraid. Funny, how you always thought of your parents as these creatures incapable of being vulnerable or scared or hurt. And yet he sat now, on his bed, pulling his shoes on, hearing the fear and fuck it, downright terror in his mother's voice. It was enough to shake the foundations of his entire being. "She's at the hospital…a man…" And she could say no more. Declan felt his blood pressure rise and the pulsing start in his head. He would kill Him. Whoever He was, Declan would kill him. The ride to the hospital was a blur. His father gripped the steering wheel so tensely Declan could see the veins in his fingers. His mother sat unmoving, unspeaking, in the front seat. He sat in the back, his hands clenching and unclenching as the anger built inside of him. Kill, that was the only thing on his mind. The nurse looked sympathetic. He hated that look on her. And they were shuffled into one of the larger rooms, trauma 2, closed off from the rest of the emergency room. His sister, her red hair tangled and dishevelled, hung about her shoulders like a burden. "Oh, mum, I'm so sorry," she cried, holding her arms out to their mother. His mother embraced his sister, older by 4 years, her piercing blue eyes strained and betraying the pain of what had happened. "…an assault…" the nurse had said. "…no permanent physical damage…" the doctor had said. "…press charges…" "…can we have a description of the attacker…" And all Declan could do was think of how he was going to torture, maim, terrify, and eventually kill the man who did this to his sister. Who violated her, who defiled her against her will. Dreams…everyone had them… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He blinked as he returned to the present. Amazing how such events steered one's life into certain areas. Sure, he'd wanted to follow in his father's footsteps being a cop, but after his sister's attack and the resultant let down… ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "…there are no witnesses…" "…we, the jury, find the defendant, not guilty…" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He closed his eyes. He would not let justice go denied ever again. And so his life had been moulded into police work where he quickly climbed the ladder and eventually found himself in swat. He would kill those that could not be brought to justice by conventional, more jury-like methods. Democracy was not without it's faults. "Where are we going?" the young woman asked him. "Doesn't matter now, what's done is done." She scoffed at him and shook her head, "we're not coming back are we?" He looked at her but did not acknowledge the question. Perhaps Paige's outburst was not so unusual. Perhaps, the ensuing conversation was relevant on more layers than presented. He would need to know. He would need to find out where the underground place was, and what 'no voices' meant. He looked to their young faces and shrugged his shoulders. Dreams…everyone had them… Return