Novels2Search

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

OCTOBER 22ND 6:13 A.M.

--FRANK--

"Dad! Over here!"

"Be careful, Sienna."

Frank sat on a metal bench as he watched his daughter run around in the jungle gyms of a playground. The day was perfect: the skies were crystal blue, wind gently blew through the tree leaves, birds sang ceremoniously, perfect.

"Sienna. I said be careful," Frank repeated as she was trying to hang upside down on a metal rail. She silently complied and climbed down, running atop the mulch ground to find her next activity.

"She yours?" a voice asked from behind him. Frank glanced over his shoulder to see a stranger standing on the concrete pathway behind his bench.

"Yeah. That's mine," Frank said smiling.

"They're so precious at that age, aren't they?" the stranger said. "Play all day, just to go to sleep and do it again the next."

"Makes you wonder why we ever wanted to grow up when we were kids," Frank chuckled.

"Right?" the stranger said as he sat down next to Frank. "Jack's the name," he said while holding out his hand.

"Frank," he said while shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you Frank," Jack said. "You from around here?"

"No, actually. Just moved here a few months ago. Decided to relocate after I got back home from the war."

"You served?" Jack asked.

"Yes sir," he nodded.

"Thank you for your service, Frank," Jack said. He silently acknowledged.

"It's just I haven't seen you around here before. I come here every day," Jack said.

"You like the outdoors?" Frank asked.

"Well, yes. But also, it was my daughter's favorite place. This park..." Frank looked over at Jack to see him staring off at the playground.

"She passed away. Her and my wife together."

"I am sorry to hear that, Jack," Frank said. "What were their names?"

"Lila and Heather," Jack said.

Frank hummed in response. "They are in a better place now."

"No."

Frank looked over at Jack confused.

"I am sorry?"

"They're not in a better place. They're in hell."

Frank stared at the man, speechless at his sudden change in attitude.

"And you will be too," Jack said to him.

"Sir, I think it is time you-"

"You let your bitch daughter die-"

"HEY!" Frank yelled as he stood up and grabbed the man by his throat. Frank became uncharacteristically overcome by rage. He felt Jack's throat in his hands. He felt it's vulnerability; how easily it could be crushed; how easily Frank could kill a man.

"You'll join her soon enough," Jack said as he stared at Frank with soulless eyes. Suddenly, Sienna screamed. Frank let go of Jack as he whipped his head around. Sienna screamed hysterically as man picked her up against her struggling and put a knife to her throat.

"NO!" Frank yelled as he took off. A palm tapped his chest as his eyes shot open. He stared up at a wooden ceiling with a robot standing over him, lightly hitting his chest with the back of his fingers.

"Relax, buddy," Tommy said then walked away.

Frank laid still while his heart rate slowed down. These nightmares were not unusual for him. He constantly sees himself unable to save his daughter. It's not how it played out, and rationally Frank believes that if he was there, he would have been able to protect her. But his nightmares are of his greatest fear: if it wasn't strong enough in the first place. That even if he was with Sienna when she died, he wouldn't have been able to stop it. Frank wishes for nothing more than to be able to have a second chance. To be able to do things differently. He would have dropped everything and been with her. He would have left wherever he was as fast as he could. But hindsight is 20/20, and Frank understands that there is nothing he can do to bring her back. He can only hope he gets a chance to redeem himself; to protect others and save them from the life that he now must live, without his family. He would give anything for it.

"We leave in 15 minutes, so get your big head up," Tommy said from across the house. Frank appreciated that Tommy respected his values of language around him, considering how vulgar he is when Frank's not around. Laurel then walked by, peeking her face into Frank's view of the ceiling.

"Take as much time as you want," she said warmly before walking away. Laurel had been very nice to Frank in the little time he has known her. She offered to make him his own room, just as she had done for the others. Despite the fact that it would be of no issue to her with her abilities, Frank declined. He still understood his place as a guest in her home and felt that such accommodation was too much. He chose to sleep on the floor with nothing but a blanket, against Laurel's insistence. Frank didn't understand the others' reverence for her, in the sense that they were afraid to make her angry. To Frank, Laurel was extremely kind. Perhaps she has a 'bad side' that is a stark contrast to her usual demeanor. Or perhaps they have a greater understanding of Laurel's powers that Frank doesn't know yet...

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Frank's heartbeat finally slowed down. He sat up and pushed himself backwards on the palms of his hands, letting the blanket slide off his legs. He got on his knees and folded the blanket into a square, standing up with it and walking over to Laurel who stood by the island in the kitchen. Tommy sat on a stool on the adjacent side, reassembling his firearm after conducting maintenance.

"Where would you like me to place this?" he asked her, holding up the blanket. Laurel whisked her fingers, making the blanket disappear.

“Sit,” she offered. “We still have some time.”

Frank obliged, sitting on a stool next to Tommy.

“You didn’t have to sleep on the floor,” Laurel mentioned. “It really would have been no hassle to make a room for you.”

“I understand,” he said. “It is a matter of respect. I am a guest in your home.”

She nodded slowly. “Next time you’re getting a room. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor more than once.”

“Very well,” he agreed. “Where are the others.” Laurel’s eyes suddenly darted back and forth between him and Tommy. Frank looked over at the robot beside him, also exhibiting a level of suspicion.

“Leo’s getting up,” she started, but with a quiet tone. “But did you notice Boone left in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t sleep,” Tommy said. “I heard everything.”

“I was not aware of such a thing,” Frank said.

“Did you see him,” Laurel asked Tommy.

“No,” he replied. “Something with the walls in here. Can’t see through them.”

“Has he returned?” Frank asked.

“About an hour and a half later, yeah,” Tommy answered.

“Where could he have gone?” she questioned. “Or done.”

“Is it that big of a deal?” Tommy asked.

“I guess not,” she said. “I just think it’s a little strange, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Frank agreed, scratching his bearded chin. He had an idea of where he might of gone. A theory, one that he was quite confident in. Boone is a quiet man. Very reserved. He doesn’t interest himself in luxuries or pleasures. The only object of importance to him is his wife. The most logical explanation is that he left to go see her.

He debated disclosing his theory to them. It’s a harmless reason for him to leave in the middle of the night, but a personal one, however. He feared perhaps the team would treat him different, or perhaps lack faith in his drive if they believe his head isn’t focused. Ultimately, Frank decided the best option was to let it lie, and perhaps Boone would explain it himself if he desired.

“Do you have any ideas, Frank?” Laurel asked.

“No, unfortunately.”

“Hmm,” she said. “Should we keep an eye on him.”

“That will not be necessary,” he said. “I shall speak to him,” he lied.

“Okay, good.”

Tommy’s firearm snapped loudly, the heavy slide slamming back into place after he pulled it.

“Long time no see, Frankie,” he said. “What have you been up to?”

Frank gritted his teeth. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Tommy asked. “Did Regis set you up with any benefits?”

“I received some,” he said. “Not as luxurious as yours, I presume.”

“Eh, I’m not a homebody anyways,” he said. “That stuff doesn’t matter to me anyways.”

Frank wasn’t in the mood of discussing his past. Of divulging in his daily lifestyle either. The topic of his late daughter weighed heavily on him, and wasn’t his favorite discussion to have. Tommy knew about Sienna, and Frank knew he wasn’t being insensitive either, he was trying to lightening him up. See if he could help him talk beyond that, see the brighter side to each day. Frank appreciated the advance, but now wasn’t the time.

“It seems you are the opposite of our metal friend, Ms. Laurel,” Frank said, changing the subject.

“Please, just Laurel,” she said, warmly. “And yes. I would consider myself very homely.”

“We can tell,” Tommy interjected. “You’re starting to become a little weirdo, coiled up in your house all day.” She grabbed a rag of the island, tossing it at the robot. It smacked him in the face, sliding off and falling to the floor.

“If you had a house like this you wouldn’t want to leave either.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “Let me just learn centuries of magic real quick. I’ll have a penthouse in the sky in no time.”

“I always knew you were a little jealous of me.”

“Let’s not get too crazy now.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she said playfully.

“Oo-“ Tommy tensed up.

“Please do not swear,” Frank said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Laurel apologized. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah… We should have told you,” Tommy admitted.

“No, it is fine. She could not have known,” he clarified. “I do not like vulgarity.”

“Right, sorry about that,” she said, zipping her lips. “No more swearing from me.”

“Thank you,” Frank said.

On the other end of the living room, Boone emerged out of his quarters, glancing over at them. They looked back at him as an awkward silence filled the home.

“Morning.”

“Hey, buddy.”

Laurel and Tommy both greeted Boone with a touch of suspicion in their voice. Frank joined in with a subtle wave.

“Hey,” he said quietly, heading outside.

“That was weird,” Laurel whispered.

“I will speak to him,” Frank reaffirmed, still lying. He was confident about his late night disappearance. Boone will speak about it when he wants to. Only if it disrupts their plans will it have to be brought up.

Soon after the door closed behind Boone, a black axe, with a blade brimming with gold lazily flew through the air at Tommy. He caught it easily; the weapon humming with power.

“We ready to go?” Leo asked, his voice echoing down the hall he approached from.

“We were waiting on you,” Tommy said. “What happened? Can’t rush perfection huh?” he snorted. The axe suddenly pushed forward in his hand, the broadside of the blade smacking against Tommy’s metal forehead.

“Ow, motherf…” He resisted. Leo recalled the axe, slipping out of the robots hand, flying back to him.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“I will meet you guys out there in a moment,” Frank said. The others obliged, heading out the front door.

He clenched his hands together tightly as his skin suddenly was covered with a black, two-piece suit. He made sure to make it look rough, like he had been wearing it for some time. It was all part of the act. Frank grabbed the folder of documents that he took from Rayshe's desk and headed out the front door. The others, already waiting outside, looked at Frank as he walked down the steps.

A large, swirling pink ring glowed in the front yard. Through its visage, instead of the greenery of the forest behind it, it showed a massive, snowy mountain range.

"What's with the getup?" Tommy asked.

"Can we stop through New York City first?" Frank asked while holding up the folder.

“Okay…” Laurel said, confused. “What for?”

"I have some items I would like for people to see."

THE NEW YORK TIMES BUILDING, NEW YORK, NEW YORK

A lady sat behind a computer at a desk in the lobby of the New York Times Building. She clicked away at the keyboard as a man approached her desk. She looked up to great him:

"How may I help you today..." her voice trailed off as she recognized the man. He seemed panicked and was out of breath, like he ran there.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"You're the director of the CIA, right?" she whispered.

"Yes, and I need to speak to a writer, immediately," he said while holding up a folder. "I need to show these to someone."