The sun shone through the lace on the window, making a pattern on the kitchen counter. Glancing at the clock, Jesse noted the early hour of six as Breanna walked into the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, she lowered a pair of dark glasses over her eyes as she scrunched them against the brightness, but not before Jesse saw the dark smudges underneath each eye.
"Good morning," he said, with a cheerful over-exaggeration on his words, she grunted while pouring a cup of coffee, "I take it you slept very well."
Pulling her glasses down her nose, she glared at him, "Why are you so darn happy?"
"It's a beautiful morning," he continued cheerfully, "we're both alive and well. We have so much to look forward to."
Sliding into the seat opposite him, she silently sipped her steaming coffee.
"Not a morning person," he said, chattily, "well, once we have had coffee, we can plan the day."
Silently she stared at him while she sipped her coffee.
"Whose not a morning person?" Reilly asked, entering the kitchen, moving to the coffee machine and pouring a cup of coffee.
"Breanna," Jesse said, "she seems to have had a rough night."
"Hmmm," Reilly said, slipping into the chair between the pair, looking at each one, "do you think she'll become less grumpy?"
"Doesn't look like it," Jesse grinned, "seems she is thinking of ways to either shut me up or hurt me."
"She must have had an amazing night of absolute and peaceful rest," Reilly teased, smiling as Breanna slid her glasses onto her head, wincing at the brightness. "Darn it, girl. Did everything come online last night?
"If you mean the fight between a bouncer and someone named Roger," Breanna glared at the men, "it was a super peaceful night."
"Did I snore?" Valencia asked, entering the kitchen and helping herself to coffee.
"No," Breanna muttered, "between the bar fights, two cocks that crowed at anything resembling the dawn, the helicopter and plane flying over, and finally the military trucks driving past. I don't think I got much sleep."
"Did you experience the dawn?" Reilly said, trying to hide a smile.
"You mean that ball of agony burning my retina's," Breanna huffed, "yes, I met the daybreak with as much enthusiasm as I feel about another hike through the tunnels."
Valencia gently rubbed Breanna's arm, "You have had a super rough night."
"While I was lying listening to the world around me," Breanna rubbed her forehead, "I couldn't help thinking about the potential of your house's Valencia."
"What about them? What potential?" Valencia frowned.
"You said you had two left to you," Breanna said quietly, "do you live in both?"
"Only one," Valencia whispered, "why?"
"I had an idea," Breanna said, looking from one pair of watching eyes to the next, "a command station and a safe house."
Jesse looked at Breanna, waiting for the punch line. What did she have up her sleeve? Glancing at Valencia and Reilly, he wondered if they took her seriously. Silence followed her words. Valencia and Reilly looked frozen, staring at Breanna as though she was as insane as her sister.
"What do you mean, Breanna?" Jesse said, taking command and jolting the others back to reality.
"While I was inside The Madhouse," Breanna said, "there were a few people I came across who would do anything to get out. Even if they did, there was nowhere for them to go."
"So you mean," Valencia said, "if they had somewhere safe to go, they would make an effort to escape?"
"Exactly, but not just escapees. Even if they were released," Breanna said, "not everyone wants to use what was done to them for Darcia's end result."
"What do you mean, Darcia's end result?" Reilly held up a hand, stopping the conversation.
"Darcia has memory wipes every three months," Breanna said, "or so I have worked out. She does this to keep people compliant; they find it difficult to remember not being happy or why they wanted to get out in the first place. My sister has a plan for all this madness and pain. Everything she does is a means to an end; everything she does to these people involves getting what she wants. I just don't know what her end goal is ... yet."
"What does that have to do with a command centre and safe house?" Reilly asked.
Breanna opened her mouth to answer, but Reilly continued, "Should we be concerning ourselves with what is happening with Darcia?"
"Reilly, let her talk," Jesse said, a growl riding his words, "I want to see where Breanna is going with this. Besides, everything Darcia does is our concern just because we know about it."
"Change is scary, but this may be worth it," Valencia said quietly, "go ahead, Breanna. What's on your mind?"
"Imagine not wanting to be part of Darcia's madness. You want to get away, but you're manipulated or coerced into doing whatever she wants. Can you imagine the difference it would make if there was somewhere to hide if you got out, and it's secure to start over? That's the difference it would make if we had a safe house for those who required genuine help."
"Okay," Reilly said, "that makes sense. Where does the command centre come into the equation?"
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"It's all good to have a safe house, but it wouldn't work if we didn't know what my sister was doing. Just before I got out," Breanna rubbed her aching temples, "I overheard a conversation around manoeuvres. I'm not sure what kind, but I know it's something she has in the pipeline for her own fanatics," Breanna sighed. "If we have a command centre, we can use it as an evacuation venue and also be able to monitor what is happening in Darcia's world."
"How will we know it's Darcia doing things?" Valencia asked.
"We know how she thinks," Breanna said, "plus we know the kind of things she would do; therefore, we know what to look for. Strange and unusual things."
"How strange and unusual?" Reilly asked. "Military? World leader? Darcia strange? Perhaps something a little more normal?"
"Whenever is Darcia's normal, The Normal?" Jesse asked.
"That is true," Valencia sighed, leaning back in her chair, "we'll be looking for things Darcia thinks is normal but is strange for anyone else to do."
"Yes," Breanna nodded, "if possible, we'll be able to use whatever contacts we have to make sure Darcia doesn't get the upper hand in world domination. What do you think?"
Silence met her question as the trio looked between themselves and then at her.
"What do you mean, what do we think?" Reilly frowned.
"Well, I haven't come across one person that has successfully cut the cord without help," Breanna pointed out. "Even myself, I still have you three to either irritate me or commiserate with me. But you understand what I'm going through; it makes the experience less scary. If we could give that to others making it out, there may be more people willing to try."
"She has a point," Jesse murmured, "if I didn't have help hiding, I wouldn't have been able to figure out what I did and help you."
Valencia nodded, "If I didn't have you two, even if it was text only, I don't know what would have happened to me."
"What happens to those who get taken back in?" Jesse asked.
"Re-programming," Breanna said, sipping at her coffee, "starting with a memory wipe."
Everyone winced as silence fell. Stretched. Remained.
Valencia frowned, "If I have two houses with four bedrooms each, a lot of people could find a home. One of the houses lower levels could be used as a command centre, leaving the rest of the house and the one next door as a safe house."
"That is an option," Breanna said, " there is a lot to consider. For instance, will we be able to get into the houses without Darcia and her fanatics getting to us or seeing us?"
"What do you mean 'getting to us'?" Valencia asked.
"The way they nearly got to you yesterday," Reilly said, "Dr Chem's jacket was in your kitchen. What makes you think they cannot get to you or any of us while we are in there?"
"Or getting there?" Jesse added.
"Right, how do we get into her houses?" Breanna said quietly.
Silence fell once more as each contemplated the problem.
"Your house is on the beachfront, isn't it?" Jesse asked, looking at Valencia.
"Yes," Valencia nodded, "both are. Why do you ask?"
"We have just come through the tunnels," Jesse nodded at Breanna, "we smelt the ocean," he cleared his throat, "what are the chances of your houses being attached to one of those tunnels?"
"I'm not sure," Valencia said quietly, "only one of the houses has a basement. I don't remember there being any tunnel exit or entrance in that house."
"Do you have security?" Reilly asked.
"I have an alarm," Valencia said, worry creasing her forehead, bleeding into her green eyes.
"No cameras? Motion sensors?" Reilly queried.
"No," Valencia sighed, "just the alarm. Where are you going with this?"
"Just think," Reilly said, "if we could find out how Dr Chem got into your home, we could probably stop him doing it again; besides, we could assess if there is a tunnel connection."
"How about we use GPS and find her home while in the tunnels," Breanna said quietly, " it's more likely we can ascertain if there is access to the tunnels while we're in them."
Silence fell as three gazes turned in Breanna's direction.
"Good thinking," Reilly nodded, "when and how?"
"Easy enough," Jesse said, "we can do it during the day. It won't matter when we do it with Darcia's finders working that area, so we'll have to be on the lookout. Dr Chem had one of them with him last night when Breanna and I were coming through."
"Brilliant! We have a plan," Valencia grinned, "can we have breakfast before we start on our daytime recon?"
Chuckles rippled on the air, "Sure," Reilly grinned, "want to help put something together?"
"Sure," Valencia said, pushing her chair from the table, "what do you have in stock?"
Jesse watched the two chat while walking further into the spacious, state of the art kitchen. He didn't remember Valencia looking like this the last time he saw her. Her redhead, green-eyed beauty left him feeling breathless the previous night and again today.
"She is beautiful," Breanna's quiet words filtered into his thoughts, "why do I get the feeling you've never found anyone that breathtaking?"
"Don't know what you're talking about," Jesse cleared his throat, sipping his coffee cup, "I have found it better not to get attached ... to anyone."
"Really?" Breanna's tone captured his attention, "why are you lying when it comes to Valencia?"
"Who says I'm lying?" Jesse glanced away from her.
"I sense it," Breanna frowned, "I feel the truth and … untruth. It feels weird."
"I have what is called a private mind," Jesse said, "so you don't know what I'm thinking."
"Didn't say I knew what you were thinking," Breanna grinned, sipping her cooling coffee, "I said, I knew you were lying."
Jesse stared at the clear gaze, "So you feel me, in other words."
"Yes," Breanna nodded, "you have strong emotions toward Valencia."
"So?"
"You don't want them," Breanna supplied, "you deny them, and I'm guessing you won't act on them either."
"I …" Jesse sighed heavily, "I can't."
Breanna's unwavering chocolate brown gaze held his, "Can't or won't?"
"The later," Jesse sighed, "it is not wise to attach someone to my life."
"In case they become leverage?"
"Exactly," Jesse said, "I haven't been tempted …" his glance slid toward Valencia, "until now."
"Do you think you will ever be more than tempted?"
"Time will tell," Jesse muttered, draining his cup, "I'm going to do GPS recon. See if anything can be found. If there is a possible route using GPS, then that will cut the recon in half."
"What is that … GPS recon?" Breanna frowned.
"Turn on my GPS and see the options that come up," Jesse grinned, "then we'll be able to see if there are underground options."
Breanna chuckled, "Okay, enjoy your GPS recon."
If this could work, many people could have a choice about their lives. Breanna drained her coffee cup as her gaze slid to the garden outside the window. People would feel the sun on their faces, the breeze across their skin, and make choices for themselves.
It was a gift she could give those her sister had used, abused and tortured. Swallowing the emotion rising, Breanna silently vowed to do everything she could to protect the innocent from her sister, her colleagues and army of fanatics. Even if the cost was her life.