Sign Is Vital, Hands Are Cold [Closed]
Jan 17, 2011 16:38:11 GMT -5
Post by Chase Campbell on Jan 17, 2011 16:38:11 GMT -5
(This was written as a collaboration between Tony, Mads, and Sean, and with the permission of Chezuu, who has left the site for personal reasons and retired her characters.)
Chase hated lying to James. But it had become alarmingly easy in the past few weeks. He had been lying about where he was going, what he was doing. Time spent with Sean under the guise of helping clean his garage (something James wouldn’t go near with a fifty foot pole) was actually spent planning. But excuses wore thin, and the trainer knew it. This time, he’d left the house after kissing James goodbye, telling him that now the garage was clear, he could actually start helping Sean fix the car that Josh had wrecked.
It was getting too easy to lie to him.
The drive to Sean’s never seemed long enough to wash away the guilt he felt. He didn’t like sneaking behind his husband’s back, but it was the only way. With a little sigh, he threw his car into park and headed up the path to the door, knocking anxiously.
Sean had already prepared for the meeting. Everything was set up in the kitchen, and he’d sent L.C. to the movies. He’d heard Chase’s approaching thoughts – guilt, mostly, but that wasn’t usual when it came to these meetings – and answered after the knocks. “I trust James still suspects nothing?” Chase just shook his head, another small wave of guilt washing over him.
“No. I told him I’m helping you fix your car. I figured he’d want to stay home with Nikki after hearing that.” Sean nodded.
“Good. It’s better that way. I have coffee in the kitchen, we can get started there.” Knowing the younger man would follow, he turned and headed to the kitchen. Chase fell into step behind him.
“I know. He’d try to stop me if he knew.” He didn’t want to think about that. So instead, he focused on the reason they were here in the first place. “How much more do we know about Underwood?” Sean didn’t answer right away, busying himself with pouring coffee. Chase slid into one of the kitchen chairs, waiting until the psychiatrist placed the mug in front of him and settled across from him.
“A possible location. I didn't bother with the authorities given that they have yet to find a single lead on their own." Chase wrapped his hands around his mug, listening intently. A location? He leaned a little closer, eager.
“Where? Is it close?”
“Closer than I’d like.”
“Tell me where.”
“Supposedly on the other side of town, near the border. A McMansion.” Chase paused. On the other side of town? That close?
“So what are we waiting for?” If they knew where the bastard was hiding, what was stopping them from going now?
"Opportunity and planning. We don't know if he's there this minute, and we don't know who's mixed up with him." Chase leaned back in his chair, looking slightly defeated. If it was up to him, they wouldn’t be waiting around. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with frustration.
“So how the hell do we find out?”
“Surveillance. Haven’t you ever read a spy novel?” Surveillance. That was their option? Chase scowled slightly.
“’Course I have. But surveillance takes too damned long.” Sean was unfazed, his patience proving strong.
"Surveillance makes sure we get him. Since we don't know who's mixed up with him, we can't take the risk of going out there and not only finding that he isn't with them but being shot."
"... How long is that going to take? I don't want to wait much longer. Not with him out there, with that list of kids. Kids, Sean. Who knows what the hell he's up to."
“Trust me, I'm aware, Chase. I don't like him being out there any more than you do, but we need to be practical. Take a few days to see who goes in and who leaves, to get a feel for it. The last thing either of us needs is to attend our own funerals."
"Nobody's going to die, Sean. I just don't want to wait around for him to pull something else. He's targeting Hammel. How long before he hits us again?"
"Do you own a firearm?" That made the trainer pause. What did that have to do with anything?
“... No?”
"Neither do I. But I'll bet my next paycheck that Gabriel does. More than one. So you can't guarantee we won't get hurt or killed, and I want to maximize our odds of surviving. We won't get a redo on this. If he tries anything against Hammel again, we're prepared, and we're on our turf. This is enemy territory we're discussing; we can't rush in blind."
"... So we're back to surveillance detail."
"For a few days, yes. That way we have a plan. We cover our bases and prepare for the different possibilities. Then we go."
"Fine. But as soon as he's alone... I'm taking him down.”
*
This felt downright criminal. For a man that had abided by the law for so long, this felt... wrong. But it didn’t stop Chase from moving forward, towards the massive compound. He and Sean had done their homework. This was the time of day that fewest members (and there were a lot of members) were within the compound. What they did at this time, Chase wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. The fewer, the better. This was not going to be easy.
He crept forward, trying to be aware of everything at once, his mental shields as tight as they’d ever been. If they were caught now, the entire mission would be tanked before it even started. Much as he wanted to charge in, he had to keep that desire in check. He knew Sean had his back, but that would only help so much if he did something stupid. This required a kind of patience that Chase didn’t often possess.
His advantage rested solely on his ability. If he encountered an operative, even from a distance, it would be easy to deter them from his path. He just couldn’t spend a lot of time controlling any number of people. He needed his strength for one person alone.
That bastard was going down.
Slipping through the door had been easy. It was clear that Gabriel’s superiority complex channelled down even to his house. He didn’t seem to expect anyone to break in like this. At least not through the front door. The trainer was moving faster now. Sean warned him when someone was close through thought alone, and Chase would get into their heads, force them away with the lightest of touches. It was something he’d perfected in his final year of training. Changing someone’s mind without them ever knowing. It worked, to the point of cockiness. Chase moved ahead, moved to where he knew Gabriel spent a good deal of time, leaving Sean behind. There was only one thing on his mind now.
The moment he was through the threshold of the study, he knew this was it. There he was. There was the man that had wreaked havoc on his family. Chase lifted his chin and concentrated, before reaching out. He was going to pay.
Gabe couldn't even turn his head. Someone was holding his body in place, in a way he hadn't felt in years. Not since Hammel. He had psychic defenses, but this wasn't him thumbing his nose at Sean Neville, wrapped tight under shields. He'd been ambushed.
Even before a voice from behind him asked, "Do you know who I am?" Gabriel knew it wasn't Neville. The psychiatrist was both too honorable and too cowardly to attack. If they were ever to do anything other than their little dance, it would have been because he started it.
The blond man was a surprise. He looked familiar, but in a vague way. It wasn't until he felt his will to fight ebbing away that he knew who this was. Jesse had told him about one of the trainers from Hammel, a jock who had no issues with using his powers on students, subduing them in his class. Mind Control. Domination. Messy abilities that didn't allow him full access to the mind; the bastard didn't even know what he was thinking now.
Suddenly, his mouth was free. His hands were still frozen, as was the rest of his body. But as the Dominator tried to push him into docility, Gabe fought back with words. "You can't do this forever. You can't keep me under forever, and you can't kill me."
"Shut up," Chase mumbled, trying to focus. He'd had to let go of part of Gabriel's mind, or else he would have lost his grip entirely.
"You're going to try to keep me docile, but you don't destroy memories, and you're already getting tired." He smirked, knowing he could out-wait the man, and then he wouldn't even have to force his way through shields. "So why is it you, coming after me, and not Sean?" Gabe was succumbing to the will to not fight, so the barb was mild. "Not that he'd do it either, but you're not going to kill me.
"You hurt James."
Oh, so that's why the blond was familiar. It had been his face he'd torn up. "You were in the picture." The smirk curled higher, "Tell me, did he cry, after?"
"Shut up."
"How's your daughter? How's Nikki?"
"Shut up."
He was getting to him. It was working. Everyone had their trigger, and it figures his would be the same as his husband's. Soon, the blond man would slip, and this would end. Gabe focused, and managed to curl his fingers in his pocket, around his cell, unlocking it. Backup was always a good idea. Now he just had to stall, wait him out. "You're not going to kill me because you're too noble. What would James say if he knew you killed someone? Does he even know you're here?"
Chase swallowed the lump in his throat, and for the first time, he realized that only one of them could walk away from this. Either he had to shut Gabriel down completely, or he would die. "Sean, I need you." Chase thought, hoping the older man was still in range telepathically.
"You can't do this. This was stupid, but so brave, trying to be the hero. How about you let go of me, and I'll end this quickly." Gabe's voice was a low purr, gaining strength as he felt most of the mental hold release. The puppeteer still couldn't move his legs, but his hands were free now, as was his mind. He tried to project himself, but the blond's mental shields were tight. "There you go, just let go and I will kill you quickly. I'll even make it look like an accident, so James won't know you risked leaving him alo--" Gabe's eyes went wide as his words were cut off. His mouth could still move, and now his legs too, but...he wasn't breathing.
The trainer didn't look away. Survival instincts were strong, and stopping someone's lungs took much more energy than keeping them in place. He had to concentrate, he had to fixate on just doing this, so he could walk away, and he had to watch as Gabriel Underwood fumbled for something in his pocket, then slowly collapse.
It was easier, once the mental wards went, to keep him down. It was so easy to keep the lungs from breathing that Chase stopped, because it shouldn't be so easy to smother another human with his mind. "Please, Sean, get here soon." Chase prayed, eying the body on the ground. He couldn't tell if Gabriel was breathing anymore.
Chase hated lying to James. But it had become alarmingly easy in the past few weeks. He had been lying about where he was going, what he was doing. Time spent with Sean under the guise of helping clean his garage (something James wouldn’t go near with a fifty foot pole) was actually spent planning. But excuses wore thin, and the trainer knew it. This time, he’d left the house after kissing James goodbye, telling him that now the garage was clear, he could actually start helping Sean fix the car that Josh had wrecked.
It was getting too easy to lie to him.
The drive to Sean’s never seemed long enough to wash away the guilt he felt. He didn’t like sneaking behind his husband’s back, but it was the only way. With a little sigh, he threw his car into park and headed up the path to the door, knocking anxiously.
Sean had already prepared for the meeting. Everything was set up in the kitchen, and he’d sent L.C. to the movies. He’d heard Chase’s approaching thoughts – guilt, mostly, but that wasn’t usual when it came to these meetings – and answered after the knocks. “I trust James still suspects nothing?” Chase just shook his head, another small wave of guilt washing over him.
“No. I told him I’m helping you fix your car. I figured he’d want to stay home with Nikki after hearing that.” Sean nodded.
“Good. It’s better that way. I have coffee in the kitchen, we can get started there.” Knowing the younger man would follow, he turned and headed to the kitchen. Chase fell into step behind him.
“I know. He’d try to stop me if he knew.” He didn’t want to think about that. So instead, he focused on the reason they were here in the first place. “How much more do we know about Underwood?” Sean didn’t answer right away, busying himself with pouring coffee. Chase slid into one of the kitchen chairs, waiting until the psychiatrist placed the mug in front of him and settled across from him.
“A possible location. I didn't bother with the authorities given that they have yet to find a single lead on their own." Chase wrapped his hands around his mug, listening intently. A location? He leaned a little closer, eager.
“Where? Is it close?”
“Closer than I’d like.”
“Tell me where.”
“Supposedly on the other side of town, near the border. A McMansion.” Chase paused. On the other side of town? That close?
“So what are we waiting for?” If they knew where the bastard was hiding, what was stopping them from going now?
"Opportunity and planning. We don't know if he's there this minute, and we don't know who's mixed up with him." Chase leaned back in his chair, looking slightly defeated. If it was up to him, they wouldn’t be waiting around. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with frustration.
“So how the hell do we find out?”
“Surveillance. Haven’t you ever read a spy novel?” Surveillance. That was their option? Chase scowled slightly.
“’Course I have. But surveillance takes too damned long.” Sean was unfazed, his patience proving strong.
"Surveillance makes sure we get him. Since we don't know who's mixed up with him, we can't take the risk of going out there and not only finding that he isn't with them but being shot."
"... How long is that going to take? I don't want to wait much longer. Not with him out there, with that list of kids. Kids, Sean. Who knows what the hell he's up to."
“Trust me, I'm aware, Chase. I don't like him being out there any more than you do, but we need to be practical. Take a few days to see who goes in and who leaves, to get a feel for it. The last thing either of us needs is to attend our own funerals."
"Nobody's going to die, Sean. I just don't want to wait around for him to pull something else. He's targeting Hammel. How long before he hits us again?"
"Do you own a firearm?" That made the trainer pause. What did that have to do with anything?
“... No?”
"Neither do I. But I'll bet my next paycheck that Gabriel does. More than one. So you can't guarantee we won't get hurt or killed, and I want to maximize our odds of surviving. We won't get a redo on this. If he tries anything against Hammel again, we're prepared, and we're on our turf. This is enemy territory we're discussing; we can't rush in blind."
"... So we're back to surveillance detail."
"For a few days, yes. That way we have a plan. We cover our bases and prepare for the different possibilities. Then we go."
"Fine. But as soon as he's alone... I'm taking him down.”
*
This felt downright criminal. For a man that had abided by the law for so long, this felt... wrong. But it didn’t stop Chase from moving forward, towards the massive compound. He and Sean had done their homework. This was the time of day that fewest members (and there were a lot of members) were within the compound. What they did at this time, Chase wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter. The fewer, the better. This was not going to be easy.
He crept forward, trying to be aware of everything at once, his mental shields as tight as they’d ever been. If they were caught now, the entire mission would be tanked before it even started. Much as he wanted to charge in, he had to keep that desire in check. He knew Sean had his back, but that would only help so much if he did something stupid. This required a kind of patience that Chase didn’t often possess.
His advantage rested solely on his ability. If he encountered an operative, even from a distance, it would be easy to deter them from his path. He just couldn’t spend a lot of time controlling any number of people. He needed his strength for one person alone.
That bastard was going down.
Slipping through the door had been easy. It was clear that Gabriel’s superiority complex channelled down even to his house. He didn’t seem to expect anyone to break in like this. At least not through the front door. The trainer was moving faster now. Sean warned him when someone was close through thought alone, and Chase would get into their heads, force them away with the lightest of touches. It was something he’d perfected in his final year of training. Changing someone’s mind without them ever knowing. It worked, to the point of cockiness. Chase moved ahead, moved to where he knew Gabriel spent a good deal of time, leaving Sean behind. There was only one thing on his mind now.
The moment he was through the threshold of the study, he knew this was it. There he was. There was the man that had wreaked havoc on his family. Chase lifted his chin and concentrated, before reaching out. He was going to pay.
Gabe couldn't even turn his head. Someone was holding his body in place, in a way he hadn't felt in years. Not since Hammel. He had psychic defenses, but this wasn't him thumbing his nose at Sean Neville, wrapped tight under shields. He'd been ambushed.
Even before a voice from behind him asked, "Do you know who I am?" Gabriel knew it wasn't Neville. The psychiatrist was both too honorable and too cowardly to attack. If they were ever to do anything other than their little dance, it would have been because he started it.
The blond man was a surprise. He looked familiar, but in a vague way. It wasn't until he felt his will to fight ebbing away that he knew who this was. Jesse had told him about one of the trainers from Hammel, a jock who had no issues with using his powers on students, subduing them in his class. Mind Control. Domination. Messy abilities that didn't allow him full access to the mind; the bastard didn't even know what he was thinking now.
Suddenly, his mouth was free. His hands were still frozen, as was the rest of his body. But as the Dominator tried to push him into docility, Gabe fought back with words. "You can't do this forever. You can't keep me under forever, and you can't kill me."
"Shut up," Chase mumbled, trying to focus. He'd had to let go of part of Gabriel's mind, or else he would have lost his grip entirely.
"You're going to try to keep me docile, but you don't destroy memories, and you're already getting tired." He smirked, knowing he could out-wait the man, and then he wouldn't even have to force his way through shields. "So why is it you, coming after me, and not Sean?" Gabe was succumbing to the will to not fight, so the barb was mild. "Not that he'd do it either, but you're not going to kill me.
"You hurt James."
Oh, so that's why the blond was familiar. It had been his face he'd torn up. "You were in the picture." The smirk curled higher, "Tell me, did he cry, after?"
"Shut up."
"How's your daughter? How's Nikki?"
"Shut up."
He was getting to him. It was working. Everyone had their trigger, and it figures his would be the same as his husband's. Soon, the blond man would slip, and this would end. Gabe focused, and managed to curl his fingers in his pocket, around his cell, unlocking it. Backup was always a good idea. Now he just had to stall, wait him out. "You're not going to kill me because you're too noble. What would James say if he knew you killed someone? Does he even know you're here?"
Chase swallowed the lump in his throat, and for the first time, he realized that only one of them could walk away from this. Either he had to shut Gabriel down completely, or he would die. "Sean, I need you." Chase thought, hoping the older man was still in range telepathically.
"You can't do this. This was stupid, but so brave, trying to be the hero. How about you let go of me, and I'll end this quickly." Gabe's voice was a low purr, gaining strength as he felt most of the mental hold release. The puppeteer still couldn't move his legs, but his hands were free now, as was his mind. He tried to project himself, but the blond's mental shields were tight. "There you go, just let go and I will kill you quickly. I'll even make it look like an accident, so James won't know you risked leaving him alo--" Gabe's eyes went wide as his words were cut off. His mouth could still move, and now his legs too, but...he wasn't breathing.
The trainer didn't look away. Survival instincts were strong, and stopping someone's lungs took much more energy than keeping them in place. He had to concentrate, he had to fixate on just doing this, so he could walk away, and he had to watch as Gabriel Underwood fumbled for something in his pocket, then slowly collapse.
It was easier, once the mental wards went, to keep him down. It was so easy to keep the lungs from breathing that Chase stopped, because it shouldn't be so easy to smother another human with his mind. "Please, Sean, get here soon." Chase prayed, eying the body on the ground. He couldn't tell if Gabriel was breathing anymore.
