Vision (15 page)

I’m so sorry Fairchild. This is to protect
everyone.

Who? Where are they taking you?

“That’s enough.” Andre commanded. “I have
received…training since we last met, so quit bloody sending him
messages or I will tell my father to have him destroyed.”

I really needed to perfect a poker face.

Andre searched my bag and me and confiscated
my phones. He tied a blindfold around my eyes. And with that, the
fragile thread connecting me to those who loved me was severed, my
life resting in the hands of cold-blooded killers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

When we arrived my blindfold was removed. The
Branson estate was hidden, vast and ominous. After driving about
twenty minutes, we seemed to be in a remote area surrounded by
acres of land and no other homes.

The long driveway resembled a short road. We
finally reached a wide iron gate surrounded by willow and birch
trees serving as camouflage for the house beyond. The driver keyed
in a code triggering the iron jail gate to open forward.

After driving what seemed like another mile
we reached the house – if you call Batman’s Wayne Manor a house. I
waited for the car to stop in front where other cars were parked.
But the driver continued to the far left side, just before I caught
sight of the looming gargoyles attached to each dormer.

Lovely. Welcome to Gothika.

The driveway continued dipping down until we
reached a thick door flush to the wall and impermeable from the
outside. Rising straight up after the driver triggered a mechanism
on the steering wheel, we descended underground driving through a
lit tunnel toward what I presumed to be the Bat Cave.

Andre had not spoken since his threat in the
car, finally turning to me saying, “We are going to grow close,
Layla.”

With death likely eminent, I fired back
without hesitation, “No, we won’t and you sound like your father,
Andre. Do you even have original thoughts in your head?” Probably
not the brightest ideas since I wielded no power, but all I got was
a hearty door slam in response, as well as a foot stomp when he got
out of the car. He still behaved like a frustrated teenage boy, and
not a full-blown Bane killer – not yet anyway.

The thick steel enforced walls symbolized a
permanent fortress, inescapable and final. I would not leave on my
terms.

I’ll find you, love. I swear it.
Stuart sent.

I didn’t want the moment ruined by suspicious
Bane, so I just tucked my chin further into my scarf, hiding a
soft, small smile, letting his warm, comforting thoughts wash over
me before following Andre through another door. There would be no
response now, just to be safe, but I would find a way for us to
communicate.

I had eternity to figure this out.

“Layla, welcome! So glad you made the right
decision.” Jasper stood with mocking open arms, knowing there would
be no actual embrace of greeting, smirking at his own theatrics.
“Please consider this your home. It is late, so Beatrice will show
you to your quarters and we will meet at 9:00 sharp in the morning.
Someone will escort you downstairs, so please don’t try to leave
your room until then.” He started to leave then turned back to face
me. “You can’t leave anyway. You’ll be locked in, but that was me
being courteous.”

The “quarters” as Jasper referred to as my
room consisted of about a thousand square feet, not including the
bathroom that was the size of a small apartment. If I weren’t a
kidnap victim, this would be high living. But the room didn’t feel
warm, or welcoming. Even with a fire in the fireplace, chills
pricked every inch of my skin. Just because Dracula wasn’t going to
drain your blood immediately didn’t make the surroundings more
hospitable.

Reality sank to the depths of my stomach,
settling in for a long haul. I loathed myself for not confiding in
those who could protect me. I had my own Guardian with what seemed
like endless abilities. I had Colin, Dad and Mom and everyone at
StoneWall. Surely there would have been a way to hide everyone away
until this was resolved? StoneWall must have a fortress for hiding,
a witness protection program, WMD’s.

Really, was there a bigger idiot than
me…anyone, anyone?

But instead of trusting, I had panicked and
walked right into the trap almost without hesitation.

Risking my life and those I loved.

We could have all fought this together.

I was the most pitiful excuse for a martyr on
the planet.

I collapsed face first on the enormous
four-poster bed adorned with thick burgundy velvet drapes. A room
fit for a princess, housing a slave – a slave to evil deeds with no
retribution. I would become an accomplice to god knows what acts,
eventually numb to my deeds, moving through life without conscience
or regard for humanity.

Eternity was really going to suck.

As Jasper promised, there was a knock at 9:00
AM sharp. “Just a minute.” I shouted at whoever lurked on the other
side. After sobbing the remainder of the night, sleep consumed me
for about an hour before waking in enough time to shower and
dress.

The staunch, stern Beatrice only nodded when
I opened the door, pivoting on her heel in silent expectance that I
would follow obediently. Her long straight blond hair was gathered
in a tight ponytail unmoving down her back. Her black slacks and
jacket contoured her slim figure as she walked with military
discipline. There was no way to guess her age, but she appeared
young outside of her rigid style. And of course a true Bane, she
blocked me from her thoughts.

We walked for what seemed like a quarter mile
up and down stairs before reaching the other side of the manor
where I was led into a small conference room. Inside Jasper, Andre,
and two others – a man and woman, sat around a circular table
facing a telephone in the center of the room. “Good morning,
Layla!” Jasper extended a false greeting. “Klaus, Genevieve, this
is Layla, the talented Clear you’ve heard so much about.” Klaus and
Genevieve only returned icy stares. They did not share Jasper’s
enthusiasm about my arrival. Andre raised his eyebrows, and I
wondered what I ever found attractive in him.

With everyone seated, Jasper dialed a number,
waited for an answer, pressed the speaker phone button and began
conversing with someone on the other end who responded with broken
English delivered in a thick East European accent.

Jasper: Hello Franz. We are all gathered.
Give us the update.

Franz: We have a meeting arranged. Two days.
In Belfast. With the government on the brink of collapse, they were
more than willing to consider…alternatives.

Jasper: Excellent work. We have a Clear
working with us. Please use the secured email to send details.
Thank you, Franz.

After pushing the button to disconnect,
Jasper was all business. “Layla, you will travel with me and
Genevieve on our private jet to Belfast. You will be introduced as
my personal assistant and will simply retain everything the prime
minister thinks during our meetings.”

I wasn’t sure I was hearing correctly. “The
who?”

“The honorable Arthur McDowell. Prime
minister of Ireland,” he said with a stone face. “I told you this
work involved world leaders.” Then turning to Genevieve, “I am
leaving you in charge of Layla’s personal safety and security
during our travel, including discouraging any ideas she has to
flee, understood?”

Genevieve nodded her sleek, short bleach
blond hair. “Yes, Jasper.”

“Klaus, secure our own agents throughout the
area. Andre, assist Klaus. You need to learn this aspect of the
business,” Jasper commanded.

Andre protested. “But…”

Jasper cut him off. “The question was
rhetorical Andre, not up for discussion.”

I think Andre was expecting to hang with
me.

Jasper turned attention my direction. “Layla,
we will rely on you heavily for information. You are the star of
the show and will follow instructions. We have discussed
consequences so no need to beat a dead, whatever. Your task is
simple. Do what you do best. We’ll talk more.”

With nothing to loose, I asked, “Can I ask
what you’re doing? What’s the goal of this…thing?”

Talk about soliciting jeers from the room.
This was definitely not my crowd. But Jasper gave me a single nod.
“Good question. No details except to say…Ireland is in dire need
of…new leadership. Until Monday, ladies and gentlemen. Oh, Layla,
Beatrice will instruct you about meal hours and so forth. Other
than that, you’re free to spend time alone or together with my
son.” He winked, and I fled to the adjacent bathroom to heave.

When I emerged clutching my stomach in agony,
Andre flipped the television off. The room was clear except for the
two of us. The scone I nibbled on twenty-four hours ago, my last
food source, was long gone.

“C’mon. Let’s eat.” He said with dry
disregard, standing to escort me.

I stood firm, not budging. “Andre –
you…attacked me.”

His cold stare burrowed into me, shaking his
head as if in denial. Then with a snarl of a smile said, “Yeah.
Whatever.”

Unbelievable. “Andre! You. Attacked. Me.”

“Layla! Get. Over. It.” He mocked back.

“You – bastard.” I seethed into a hissing
whisper.

But he didn’t answer. He was already walking
away, leaving me alone to fend for myself, withdrawing his offer to
walk me to the kitchen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

My stomach cramped from hunger and
adrenaline. I stomped to the kitchen by following smells and found
Beatrice fixing plates while the cooks scurried around stirring and
chopping.

My eyes narrowed when I addressed her. “I
have one request. I want to take meals in my room. I refuse to
break bread with these lunatics. And since I haven’t eaten anything
in two days, is there something I can take up now?”

Beatrice remained unchanged by my tirade, her
stoic expression unmoved. She did, however, compile a plate of
eggs, sausage, biscuits, butter, coffee, cream and sugar on a tray
and said, “You may eat wherever you wish, Ms. Stone.”

I gave a single nod. “Good.” That had been
easy. “Thanks, Beatrice.” I took the tray, turned and met the
consternate face of Jasper who peered at me with contempt. He
probably wished he didn’t need my talents, so he seemed to merely
tolerate my presence.

“Tsk, tsk, such hyperbole. Yes “Ms. Stone,”
he used air quotes to repeat my name the way Beatrice had, “Please
by all means eat wherever you like.” He smirked. “I’ll be out of
town for a bit. Beatrice, please ensure Ms. Stone is locked
securely in her room at night. We may not be able to stop you from
using your mental skills to contact others, but know we are in the
process of arranging a permanent nomadic relocation program for
you, especially considering StoneWall knows this location and tries
to follow us all the damn time.” He examined his fingernails. “We
will keep you very busy Layla – so busy finding you from one day to
the next will be impossible. Good day.” His voice trailed off as he
finished the last sentence walking away.

I so hated him.

After the long journey back to my room, I
forced some food down and was relieved my stomach felt better,
despite the constant pain of the situation. Without my phones, the
only way to talk was telepathically, which still felt uneasy,
although Jasper had mentioned they couldn’t stop me. Also, I wasn’t
sure if I was being watched but decided to search the room later
for bugs when everyone was sleeping and Jasper was gone. If there
were none, I would feel more at ease using the psychic
airwaves.

I curled up on my bed for the remainder of
the day until someone knocked. I opened my eyes to complete
darkness and didn’t move, pleased with my curled up, catatonic
state. I had no desire to speak to anyone.

The knocking persisted, and I had no choice
but to shuffle, albeit slowly, to the door. Andre stood on the
other side wearing a dumb-ass grin, holding a dinner tray.

“What?” I grunted, snatching the tray from
his hands.

My reaction took him off guard, though I
don’t know what he ever expected. “You never responded to the lunch
and dinner knocks, so the trays were taken away. Are you hungry?
Beatrice asked me to ask you – if you needed anything before
locking up.”

“Freedom,” I responded dryly, turning to walk
back to the bed.

He stepped one stride inside. “No can do but
how about company?” He actually had the nerve to sound sincere.

I turned to him in disbelief, releasing
exasperated air in the process. “Andre, you can’t be serious. Get
out and lock the door or whatever.” He continued standing a few
feet in from the entrance. “Go pester someone else. How about your
mom?” He looked down at the mention of his mother. “Oh, no mommy? I
can’t imagine any woman turning down this life. Your dad is such a
catch.”

He stepped a few paces closer, as if I had
extended an invite to chat, which I had not. “Mum’s in – oh, the
Bahamas. I had to remember which season has her where. She steers
away from the family business.” His face was defiant but calm.

“Must be nice, to be in the Bahamas this time
of year.” I wanted to slap him so bad. “Now please leave. Great.
Thanks.”

“Layla…” He was still in the room.

“Leave now, Andre!” Maybe I wouldn’t have
yelled, but he missed a free pass to apologize earlier and
didn’t.

The door shut quietly then clicked to confirm
my continued detainment while Bane planned to decimate the world
with my help. In two days Belfast, after that, my fate was unknown.
I would likely never know where I was being moved to, or when.

I was screwed.

And I had screwed myself.

I missed the window to tell Stuart and Mom
about Jasper’s visit, about his threats and demands because I let
fear consume me. I chose martyrdom over common sense. People around
me were smart. I was surrounded by trained professionals and
naturally gifted people who cared about me, and I blew off their
talents.