Beyond fate, there is choice
by Ainzfern
17
Night had fully fallen by the time Iason Mink and his security retinue arrived at the virtually crumbling warehouse complex. Mace had provided three vehicles in total; two armored cars to carry various Elites and associates, and one large security truck, its covered cargo bed fitted out with a remote-linked command station and holding a detachment of a dozen of Iason's highly trained personal security men.
As the vehicles left the access road and entered the outer compound with a flurry of gravel and the soft squeal of brakes, Iason felt a certain relaxing of a concern that he had been carrying during the entire journey. There, approximately two hundred yards away, just beyond the darkened main access passage to the warehouse, sat the missing Syndicate van.
"Well," Riki murmured from beside him. "You guys were right. There it is."
Grimly, Iason acknowledged Riki's observation with a brief nod, keeping his pale eyes fixed upon Raoul as the driver of their vehicle, yet another of Mace's men, cut the engine before they alighted from the car. As the journey out to the location had passed, Iason had noticed that Raoul had become increasingly withdrawn, only minimally responding to any conversation. His face had grown bleaker by the second; his splendid eyes had become harder, more filled with glacial fury, as every mile had passed.
Understandable, Iason felt. But not acceptable. And, before any other actions could be taken here tonight, the Elite leader knew that he would have to deal with it.
Riki had also picked up on it, perceptive creature that he was. They had shared more than one worried glance between them during the trip.
They shared another one now, Iason glancing meaningfully at Raoul... Riki nodding, his understanding clear as he walked away from them, heading towards the car that had transported Chey Neeson and Tahna Lam.
"Raoul," Iason murmured, touching his friend's tense shoulder. "Walk with me."
Brusquely, Raoul nodded, falling into step at Iason's side as they walked a few more meters away from the group behind them. Peripherally, in the background, Iason could hear Mace instructing his men to gear up, to check their weapons and stand ready to move. Dismissing those details for the moment, Iason focused on the grim Elite standing before him.
His friend seemed so hurt, so angry. And it was in this state, that even a man as intelligent and analytically logical as Raoul Am could very easily make mistakes. Iason knew him well, and he knew that for all of his renowned dignity and outward control, Raoul's passions ran very deep.
Pulling in a breath, Iason held Raoul's gaze steadily. "No matter what happens from this point forward, Raoul," he said in a low tone that nonetheless brooked no argument, "you are to remain here, in the outer compound, with Riki and Chey."
Raoul's eyes widened with disbelief. "I refuse, Iason," he said flatly.
"I don't believe I am actually giving you a choice."
"No," Raoul lifted one hand in a sharp gesture. "No, Iason. This is not acceptable. Katze is my mate, and I am owed the right to take him back and deliver my retribution." His expression grew dangerous. "You saw the recording with your own eyes. Blaine Dal took my Companion. He hurt him. Don't you think I know for a fact, that if it was you in my place, no force in the world would stop you from killing him?"
Inwardly wincing, but outwardly unmoved, Iason stood firm. "But it is not me, Raoul," he said, still quietly, but with a clear note of steel in his voice, "and the situation is as it is. Thus, while I can fully appreciate your fervor, you are still my second in command and you will do as I say."
Raoul's eyes blazed. His face grew white and pinched with his upset and anger.
"We all know the potential dangers of such a situation, Raoul," Iason continued, pointedly ignoring his friend's reaction. "In the event that I am incapacitated or killed, you must be able to take command of the Syndicate. And there is another reason, perhaps the most pressing of all, why you should remain right here out of harm's way."
"Oh?" Raoul's gaze narrowed, his tone barely civil.
Iason sighed. "Katze. We have no way of knowing what kind of condition he is in. He might need you. Mace's medic is a competent field surgeon... but would you really be content with anyone other than yourself caring for your Companion?"
Raoul stilled, staring at him for a long moment as a myriad of emotions crossed his beautiful face. At length, he actually vented a soft huff of pained laughter, the terrible tension leaving his shoulders and his eyes warming as he met Iason's knowing gaze. "So I should consider myself put back into my place, then?"
Iason smiled at him.
"The trouble with you Iason," Raoul said then, sounding much more like his old self, "is that you know me too well."
"I note you've not said whether that's a good or a bad thing," Iason replied as he gestured for Raoul to walk with him back to the others.
"I'm still deciding," Raoul's tight grin was artfully bland.
Deeply relieved to hear that droll note in his friend's voice, even if it was somewhat strained, Iason clasped Raoul's broad shoulder. "And you will do as I instruct?"
Raoul nodded. "I will. I cannot say that I am happy about it, but... you are right. I have more pressing duties than mere vengeance."
Iason squeezed his shoulder once, before dropping his hand, the matter effectively closed.
"Mace," he spoke as he reached the group, moving to stand close by Riki's shoulder. "Your recommendations?"
"Your Excellency," Mace snapped off a sharp salute, his professional demeanor firmly in place. "I have established a monitoring hook-up to your personal cell, linked back to Hadren's team at Midas security. I would suggest, as Blaine Dal's activities have been directed at you personally, that you should be the one to make the initial contact to establish what, if any, demands Blaine wants to make regarding the release of the hostage. Hadren also has an additional team on standby in the event that Blaine has already vacated the complex, ready to offer air and vehicle support should it be needed."
Iason nodded tersely.
"My men will set up a perimeter line around the building, assessing possible points of entry," Mace continued. He shot a quick glance at Raoul, his scarred face grimly business-like. "Obviously our main priority is the safe release of Master Am's Companion; however, if during your negotiations with Blaine, an opportunity is identified to enter the building and neutralize the threat, I respectfully request your permission to give the order to do so."
"Then you have it," Iason replied. Reaching into his sash-coast, he pulled out his cell and flipped it open. Peripherally, as he scrolled through the directory list of Syndicate entries for Blaine's number, he noted that a profound silence had fallen over the group. Even Tahna, with his huge eyes focused on the Syndicate leader, seemed abnormally pale and serious.
"Mace," Iason murmured as he located the correct number, "dispatch your men. Notify Eos hospice to be on standby for—"
The soft and insistent trill of a cell phone cut through Iason's words. Turning sharply, he stared at Raoul's widening eyes and rigid expression.
"It's mine," Raoul reached slowly for his own cell, lifting it from his pocket. His rich mouth thinned into a white line as he flipped it open and read the caller ID. His jaw worked soundlessly for a second and he swallowed hard, clearly maintaining his control by sheer will alone. "Its Katze's number," he told them hoarsely.
Iason stepped towards him. "Put it on speaker, Raoul," he instructed softly.
Raoul did so, passing the cell over to Iason.
Pressing the accept button, Iason held Raoul's gaze as he spoke. "This is Iason Mink," he said shortly, "I am assuming that I am speaking with Blaine Dal?"
"You are indeed," Blaine's voice, clearly recognizable and as deep and pleasant as always, came from the speaker of Raoul's cell phone. "I am pleased you have come, Iason. We have a great many things to discuss."
Iason frowned deeply, both at the tone and the words. There was something there, some timbre in Blaine's voice that worried him. "I see," carefully, he kept any trace of irritation from his own tone. "Well, I am willing to talk terms, of course. But first, there is the matter of the civilian hostage you have taken."
"You mean the mongrel?" Blaine's voice paused a moment. "I am assuming that Raoul is out there listening?"
Raoul's face froze, his eyes flashing once more. Nodding at him, lifting one hand in a calming gesture Iason answered, "He is."
"Then he will be relieved to know that his Katze is safe... for now."
"Where is he, Blaine?" Iason asked.
"Secure," came the reply. "And that is all I will tell you. If you wish him to remain so, you will do as I instruct."
Iason tapped the mute button, looking across at Chey Neeson, noting how the handsome statesman had drawn close and was listening intently to Blaine's words.
"Bluffing?"
Chey grimaced. "Hard to say. Possible. But I wouldn't trust it, Iason. There's a tone in his voice that's making me nervous."
"Agreed," Iason opened the line again. "What do you want, Blaine?"
"You," Blaine replied flatly, "to enter the warehouse alone."
Beside Iason, Riki drew his breath in with an audible hiss. Setting one hand on his shoulder, Iason squeezed gently.
"I am aware that you would have several security personnel out there with you," Blaine was continuing. "They are to remain outside. If you do as I say, I will release Katze and send him out the same entrance passage. If you do not - and I'm sorry that Raoul must hear this, I will kill him."
A soft sound of misery and rage made it past Raoul's gritted teeth.
"You had better start moving, Iason," Blaine told them. "If you are not here in within the next few moments... you will be too late."
With that, Blaine cut the call.
Snapping the cell phone shut angrily, Iason glared at the warehouse, his face pale with fury. "How dare he?" he whispered, deeply offended and enraged beyond measure. Shaking his head slowly, he breathed deeply to calm himself.
"Iason," Riki touched his arm. "God... is this the only option we have?"
Wordlessly, Iason gripped Riki's jaw gently, looking somberly at him, seeing his anxiety, understanding it, but knowing that there was nothing he could do to alleviate it.
"Your Excellency?" Mace interjected.
Tearing his eyes away from Riki's face, Iason turned to him.
Mace held up a very familiar streamlined little device, all deceptively delicate filaments connected to a small flat silver plate, "If you would care to step into the rear of the truck for one moment, I'll fit you with your personal shielding unit."
"Iason," Raoul murmured, reaching out to stop him as he shifted his weight to follow Mace, "are you certain?"
"I am. This matter, evidently, is between Blaine and myself. Let me finish it."
Raoul nodded. "Thank you," he said simply. "Thank you, Iason."
Iason followed Mace to the rear of the truck, smiling wryly down at Riki as the mongrel joined him. Quickly undoing his shirt and pulling it free of his pants, Iason stood, his arms extended out to the sides, as Mace efficiently and swiftly affixed the device to the Elite's chest, ensuring all the filaments that created the field were properly placed. Less than sixty seconds and the job was done, Iason rebuttoning his shirt while Riki adjusted his sash coat to sit correctly. As Mace activated the shield, Iason felt the slight surge of heat moving over his skin that indicated the unit was now working.
Mace handed him a small ear-piece, indicating that Iason should insert it. "This is linked through to my comm unit," the scar-face security chief explained, indicating the comm device hooked onto his belt. "You won't be able to talk to me, but you will be able to hear what's happening outside. It'll keep you apprised of any developments."
"Thank you, Mace," Iason said. "I appreciate your thoroughness."
"You're ready, Sir," Mace said then, stepping back. He nodded shortly and jumped down out of the back of the truck, leaving Riki and Iason alone for a brief moment.
Riki slid one hand around the back of Iason's neck, drawing his face down and kissing him, tenderly and deeply, expressing in that kiss the depths of both his love and his anxiety. He returned the kiss fervently and pulled back, looking down into Riki face.
"Do what you have to, Iason," Riki told him, his eyes shimmering in the low light of the cargo bed. "Just make sure you damn-well come out of there, okay?"
Iason nodded at him. "My word on it."
With one lingering touch to Riki's face, he turned and descended gracefully from the truck, setting his shoulders as he strode back through the gathered group towards the entrance of the warehouse.
When he first registered that the brightness ahead of him was actually lights from a cluster of vehicles, Katze was tempted to believe he was imagining things. He leaned against the corner of the wall he had been stumbling along, panting painfully as he stared out of the shadows towards the pool of bright light only fifty odd feet away. From his perspective, it seemed as though he had been struggling onwards for hours, although logically he knew that couldn't be the case.
It just felt like it. For God's sake this building was fuckin' big...
Swallowing through his parched throat, he shook his head, clarity arriving, his pains actually draining away a little as he recognized what he was looking at.
Syndicate vehicles, and moving around them, uniformed men.
Uniforms that he knew; the uniforms worn by Iason Mink's personal security guards.
Feeling a great wave of relief following over him, Katze lurched away from the warehouse wall, staggering across open ground, his eyes searching desperately for Raoul. As he neared the group, he spotted him, his Blondie, standing rigid and alone off to one side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his face turned towards the warehouse entrance.
Katze's throat tightened. They had come. They were here.
He was safe.
Moving closer, a soft moan breaking free as his injuries began to throb again in earnest, his sharp gaze picked out other familiar forms. Riki was there, standing at the rear of the covered truck, his face a pale oval in the half-shadows. Chey Neeson stood just a few feet from him with, to Katze's befuddled surprise, Tahna Lam of all people. The elegant Elite was rather pointedly standing with his back in Chey's direction, looking around the immediate area with a visibly irritated expression on his perfect face.
Thus it was, that as Katze got closer, the first person to see him was indeed Tahna.
The Blondie's eyes at first narrowed as he peered into the shadows from where Katze was slowly emerging. Then, with a look of shock and not an inconsiderable amount of horror forming on his face, Tahna's mouth dropped open.
"Oh my God..." the Elite gasped softly as Katze neared him. He shifted, looking over his shoulder. "Raoul!" his shout was sharp with alarm.
For a few endless seconds, everyone simply stopped, turning to stare at the ex-Furniture as he stood for a moment, his chest heaving from effort, sweat and dirt streaking his face. Mace's men had whirled around at Tahna's cry, their weapons at the ready only to be immediately lowered as they recognized the lack of threat. Chey was shaking his head, one hand on Tahna's shoulder, his handsome face stunned. Riki had stepped away from the truck, his dark eyes wide.
The stasis broke, there was the swift sound of running feet... and then Raoul was there, taking Katze carefully into his arms, holding him with gentle fervor as Katze clutched at his broad back and buried his bruised face into the smooth warmth of his lover's neck, breathing deeply of his scent, allowing it to sooth and comfort him.
Under his hands, against his chest, he felt Raoul's entire body shaking, heard the soft strangled sounds of relief and desperate upset escaping from his throat as the Elite's hands moved over him, across his back and his flanks, touching his shoulders, his hair, as if verifying that he actually was there. Lifting his uninjured arm, Katze stroked Raoul's shuddering back gently, slowly, trying to calm him, knowing that to be seen in such an emotive state was not something that would ever sit well with him. "Shhh," he whispered, directly into Raoul's ear, pressing his lips to soft skin. "It's okay. I'm here. I'm here, Raoul."
Slowly, swallowing audibly, Raoul pulled back and looked down into Katze's eyes, his face agonized as he took in the mongrel's appearance. "Oh Katze," he murmured thickly, touching the uninjured side of Katze's jaw with infinitely gentle fingertips, "your face..."
Katze tried a shaky smile. "That bad, huh?"
Pulling in a deep breath, Raoul made a monumental effort and managed to compose himself. "Moderately dreadful, yes," he returned Katze's wan grin, his deep green eyes already beginning to inspect the injury more closely.
Behind him. Riki stepped forward, "Good to have you back, man," he grinned tightly at him for a second, before glancing at Mace who also stood nearby. "Can you get your guys into that warehouse? Pull the plug on this whole thing and get Iason out of there?"
Katze gasped, sharp horror filling his gut as his mind cleared fully. "No, wait!" from the circle of Raoul's arms he held out a hand to Riki, gesturing frantically. "Blaine's rigged the place up to explode. It's personal, Riki... he wants to kill himself and Iason."
Riki gasped and turned, but Chey, moving faster than Katze would have ever credited him with, intercepted him, catching him bodily as Riki attempted to dash towards the warehouse entrance. "No, Riki, NO!" he gritted his jaw and firmed his hold as the mongrel struggled wildly.
"Let go of me, Chey!" Riki snarled at him.
"Riki, listen," Chey gripped Riki's upper arms, forcing the slighter man to turn and face him, "you go barging in there now, all you will do is ensure that Blaine sets that thing off." He gave Riki a sharp little shake. "Now... use that clever brain of yours and think, young man."
Riki gaped at him, helpless fear on his face. "I don't..." he shook his head, his eyes anguished. "I don't know..."
"What about the security satellite?" Surprising Katze again, it was Tahna who spoke, as he sauntered over to Chey and Riki. "I mean, isn't the thing supposed to be capable of picking up the smallest active device? Isn't that what it's for?"
They stared at him.
Tahna frowned, a tiny scowl curling his lips. "What?" he spread his hands irritably.
Raoul cleared throat. "Tahna," he said softly, "that was actually useful."
Tahna shot him a look that spoke volumes. "I do occasionally read the Syndicate bulletins, you know." He shrugged blandly. "Generally when I'm having trouble falling asleep, but still—"
"However," the biologist observed, "we will still need the layout of this place. Once we've found the gridded location from the satellite, we'll still need to be able to guide Mace's crew to the explosives through the actual complex."
They looked back at Tahna.
"Don't look at me," Tahna shrugged at them. "That's all I've got."
Katze felt the glimmering of an idea forming, even as he leaned more heavily against Raoul's chest, letting the Blondie take the weight of his injured leg. "City archives?" he mumbled, feeling exhaustion creeping over him.
Riki blinked, then grinned at him, his eyes brightening, "That's fuckin' perfect man!"
"Right," Katze smiled back at him crookedly. "But I'm in no condition to sit at the computer right now. Hell, my head is spinning. I feel like I'm gonna pass out any moment."
"That's no problem. I can do it," the mongrel gave him a slight shrug. "I just need... Raoul, I'm gonna need your access codes for the satellite, alright?"
"Of course." Supporting Katze carefully, the Elite lead him slowly behind Riki, helping him to climb into the rear of the cargo bed and seat himself before reaching for the field-medic's supply case under the bench seat.
"Okay." With Mace at his shoulder, Riki sat in front of the remote-linked terminal, already rapidly keying instructions. "We'll get the satellite tracking first," he said to the security chief, "then I'll access the Tanagura building archives and upload the floor-plan for this place. That way, if we're lucky, we can lead your men right to the explosives before Blaine knows anything about it."
Mace nodded approvingly. "I'll inform Sir Iason of what has occurred," he replied lifting his comm unit. "Hopefully he can keep Blaine talking long enough to give us time to defuse the devices."
"I hope so too, Mace," Riki said fervently, his eyes fixed on the terminal screen.
Leaning back against the wall of the cargo bed, Katze released a deep sigh, looking wearily at Raoul as his Blondie began to prep various pieces of medical kit and dressings. Vaguely, as Raoul carefully unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, wincing as further damage was revealed, Katze could hear Chey Neeson's firm voice outside the truck, directing all unnecessary people away from the immediate area, affording them some measure of privacy.
Closing his eyes Katze finally let himself relax, filled with overwhelming relief as he allowed Raoul to take him into his gentle and capable hands at last.
Beyond fate... – chapter 16 << >> Beyond fate... – chapter 18