PROTOTYPE 24
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.me.uk

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The engines whistled as the Learjet bounced gently to a rest.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee opened the hatch and checked outside with drawn
pistols. All seemed clear, and they beckoned us to deplane.

We found ourselves in the middle of a clearing atop a wooded plateau. Tall
sequoias surrounded us on al sides, eerily silhouetted against the moonlit
sky. The wind soughed softly through the branches and stirred Lucy's hair as
she stepped down from the plane. Milo collected our bags, while Jules led the
way across the clearing to a cabin that stood close to the centre.

I say cabin because I can't think of a better word to describe the building,
but it seems insufficient, somehow. True enough, it was constructed from logs
and had a porch and everything you'd expect a cabin to have. Stone chimney,
chintzy drapes at the small windows, everything. But it was two storeys high,
covered about four hundred square metres, and boasted a palatial interior.
Built along one side, lean-to fashion, was an annexe housing a propane
cylinder.

The main living room was enormous, with two huge deep-buttoned velvet sofas
either side of an intricately patterned, genuine antique Persian rug. All of
the furnishings were antique, in fact, some dating back as far as the nineteen
sixties, and worth the ransom of a small king. The walls were panelled in deep
grain walnut polished to a mirror finish, and the floors were real wood, waxed
and buffed until you could see your face, while the draperies and soft
furnishings were luxurious and inviting. The cabin was also equipped with a
large, well-equipped kitchen, spacious dining room, and four double bedrooms
and two ostentatious bathrooms.

It bore about the same relationship to a log cabin that the Playboy Mansion
has to a condominium.

"Listen up", Jules barked when we had finished gasping. "This is your
safehouse. The keyword here is 'safe'. The only access is by helicopter or
jump jet. The plateau is surrounded by eighteen metre cliffs, so we should be
undisturbed, Even so, me and Milo are here to protect you. We don't know why
and we don't care. We just do our job. You play along with us and we'll get
along just fine. At least one of us will be on guard at all times. Your job is
to behave yourself. You have the freedom of the house, but nobody goes outside
without telling me or Milo, nobody goes out alone, and you will keep
yourselves in plain sight of whoever's on guard, except when you're sleeping
or bathing. You will do what you're told, when you're told. You will not ask
why. You will not second-guess us. These are the rules. They are not
negotiable. That is all".

"Just a minute", I began as he turned away, but Lucy caught hold of my arm.

"It's OK, Sean. These guys know what they're doing. It isn't them we have to
worry about".

"I'm just surprised he could put so many sentences together. You think they're
on the level, then?"

"These two? Sure. Even if they are the President's bodyguards, they're still
just hired muscle. They've been told to look out for us, and that's exactly
what they'll do, no questions asked". The corners of her mouth turned down. "I
have the bad feeling that they're expendable, though. We might end up by
looking out for them".

"Huh. By 'we', you mean you. I'll do what I can, but I think if it all kicks
off, it's going to be down to you to save our asses".

She planted a kiss on my cheek.

"If it comes to it. But don't worry. It might not come to that".

"Oh, aye. We might have Sumner all wrong. He might come through for us and, in
a few days, we can get on with our lives as if nothing ever happened. Wait!
What was that? Did I just see a pig fly through here?"

"Sean!" she said, giving me a light tap on the shoulder with her fingertips.
"Don't forget, we're only speculating about Senator Sumner. We don't know that
he's up to something. He might be honest and true".

"Lucy, you don't believe that any more than I do. And here we are, stuck in
the middle of nowhere, right in his very own vacation retreat. We walked right
into the net, didn't we?"

"If we did", she said, giving me the bedroom eyes, "it's a very comfortable
net. If we have to, we'll just walk right out again, when the time comes". She
took my hand and swung it playfully. "Come to bed".

*

The lazy sun hooked a finger over the horizon and hauled himself into the sky,
blearily peering over the treetops and blinking at the dawn. The first rays
streamed through the window of our chosen bedroom and pooled on the comforter
that covered our naked bodies.

We had made love the night before, but with little of our usual abandon. The
presence of at least one of the Chuckle Brothers on guard on the landing had
inhibited our exuberance more than somewhat, and making love while trying to
be quiet is just not the same.

Which is not to say it wasn't wonderful. How could it not be, with such a
terrific partner? Lucy had allowed me full rein and complete access to her
fabulous body, and I had explored it thoroughly and meticulously. My fingers
had covered every centimetre of her, and I still couldn't get over how hard
and strong she was and how soft and womanly she looked. Oh, yes, it was
wonderful.

Just not quite as wonderful.

I turned my head to gaze at her lovely face, nestling in the hollow of my
shoulder, feigning sleep as usual. She only needed an hour a night but seemed
quite content to lie with eyes closed, snuggling up to me. She must have felt
my eyes on her, because hers snapped open and her lips curved in a welcoming
smile. I could easily lose myself in those deep blue orbs of hers.

"Good morning, Gorgeous". My voice was thick with sleep, but I'm sure she
heard the sincerity it held.

"'Morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a log. I didn't think I would, what with all the excitement of
yesterday, but you have a way of, er ... "

"Wearing you out?"

"You could put it like that".

She gave a low, throaty chuckle as she nuzzled my neck. Before long, we were
in a clinch and kissing deeply and fully, and I marvelled at how clean and
fresh her mouth tasted, even at that time in the morning. I hoped mine wasn't
too rank, but she didn't seem to care. Eventually, we parted.

"Time to get up?" I asked.

"I guess so". Lucy sat up. "Come on. I'm going to fix you a stack of
pancakes".

"Don't tell me you cook, too?"

"You better believe it. I'm famous for my pancakes. Or I was". An emotion
flickered across her face for an instant, as the reality of her lost years
caught up with her. "You're gonna love me for them".

"I love you anyway, with or without pancakes". I leaned over to kiss the small
of her back before swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "I'm going to
take a shower. Want to join me?"

"Not this time". She slipped her arms into one of the two watered silk robes
we had found in the closet. "See you later".

The powerful jets of the shower pummelled my body until I was clean and
refreshed. I dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen. Lucy stood at the
stove, a huge jug of pancake mix at her side, cooking up a storm. Jules and
Milo sat at the table, each with a tall stack before him, shovelling food into
their mouths with relish. It seemed to me that they were less hard-edged, more
relaxed, and I surmised that Lucy's winning personality had been at work.

"'Morning, lads", I called cheerily. They acknowledged me with a glance. They
might have softened toward Lucy, but I was still just a job to them. Feeling
slightly awkward, I sat down at the table just in time for Lucy to place a big
tower of pancakes in front of me.

"There you go", she said, placing a jug of maple syrup by my elbow. "Enjoy".

I drizzled the golden, gooey liquid over my stack and forked up a big
mouthful. They were delicious.

"Mm-mm! These are great! Best I ever tasted".

"Told you", Lucy smiled, pulling her robe more closely about her. She sat down
beside me with a plate of only three of the marvellously light treats. It
still amazed me that such a powerhouse could be fuelled by so little food.
"Oh, yeah! To my turbocharged tastebuds these are heavenly!"

We ate in silence for a while. Lucy was almost finished when she looked up,
concentrating for a second or two.

"Milo? Jules? Are you finished eating?"

"Yes, Ma'am", Milo said. "Great pancakes".

"That's just as well, because there's somebody moving around outside".

They both cocked an ear, listening hard, while I glanced around nervously.

"I don't hear nothing", Jules said.

"Believe me", I said. "If Lucy says she can hear somebody out there,
somebody's out there".

Jules' hand disappeared under his jacket and came out with a nasty looking
hand-castle.

"Milo, go check it out".

Milo wiped his mouth on a napkin and rose from the table, bringing out his own
piece. He moved, silently for such a big man, smoothly and speedily to the
door, opening it carefully while standing to one side. He leaned out, letting
his trained glance assess any immediate danger. Finding none, he stepped out
onto the porch and scanned the clearing.

"Nothing", he called back over his shoulder. "I'll take a walk around front".
He closed the door, and we saw his dark shape pass the kitchen window. Jules
sat looking relaxed with his gun in his lap, but I could feel the alertness
inside him.

"I don't think there's anything to worry about, folks", he said, "Milo's just
being careful".

I looked at Lucy and our eyes met. She looked calm, unflustered, and I hoped I
was looking half as relaxed. I didn't feel it. She covered my hand with hers
and gave me a warm, reassuring smile.

"It'll be OK", she whispered, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. Perhaps I
wasn't looking as confident as I tried to.

After a couple of minutes the back door handle turned and Milo came in,
holstering his gun, standing framed in the doorway for a brief moment.

"All clear", he reported. "I checked right around the house and down in the
storm cellar. No sign of ... "

That was as far as he got. His face exploded in a welter of blood and bone
fragments as a heavy calibre bullet took him in the back of the head and
lodged itself in the opposite wall.

I heard the shot an instant later. Milo's big body toppled forward like a
felled tree in slow motion. His ruined head made a wet splat as it hit the
floor.

"Everybody down!" Jules yelled, crossing the space to the doorway in a couple
of seconds. He flattened himself against the wall, gun held to the port. I
just sat in stunned silence, my mouth hanging open like a gormless twit, until
I felt Lucy's strong hand on my arm pulling me down beside her. We crouched
together under the table.

"What the fuck?"

"Easy, Sean. Don't panic. I need you to keep it together right now, OK?"

"That's easy for you to say. What's he doing now?"

Jules was taking quick glimpses out the door, trying to gauge how much
opposition there was. A bullet slapped into the doorjamb right by his hand,
throwing up evil looking splinters. He returned fire in the direction it
appeared to have come from.

"We have to do something", Lucy breathed in my ear.

"About what? We don't know where they are. Or how many".

"Not about them. We know they've got orders to take us alive. They aren't
going to harm us. About Jules. They won't have any compunction about him. He's
going to get himself killed".

"I know. But what can we do about it?"

She thought for a few seconds.

"I have to take him out. If he's no threat, there's a chance that he'll get
out of this alive".

"But then what do we do?"

"We give ourselves up. Don't worry", she added as I opened my mouth to
protest. "I won't let them take us. But we have to make them think they can".

I tried to think of an objection, but before I could come up with anything
Lucy had made her move. She crossed to Jules and clamped her smaller hand
around his big one. The one that held his gun.

"What the hell are you doing, Lady?" he spluttered, outraged. He tried to
remove her hand, but her steely fingers were more than a match for his. Her
other hand reached up, and she closed her thumb and index finger on his
carotid arteries. His face contorted in a snarl of disbelief and betrayal. He
pulled at her wrist, and his expression turned to one of panic as it dawned on
him that this lovely and elegant young woman was much, much stronger than he
was.

Deprived of blood, his brain shut down after just a couple of minutes and
Jules passed out. Gently and compassionately, she lowered his flaccid body to
the floor, ensuring he didn't hit his head or hurt himself, and beckoned
urgently to me. Half crouching, I hurried to hide on the opposite side of the
door, peering round its edge.

"Call to them", Lucy urged. "Tell them both Jules and Milo are dead and we
want to surrender". I looked at her uncomprehendingly, and she put an edge of
command in her voice. "Do it!"

"Hello!" I yelled. "Hello outside? We give up! Both the bodyguards are dead;
you killed them both, and we want to surrender!" I swallowed hard as I looked
down at the grisly sight of Milo's body with its ruined head. Jules appeared
to be sleeping peacefully. "You killed them both. Don't kill us as well! We
give up!"

There was silence for a few moments. Then a man's voice called out.

"Show yourselves. Come on to the porch. One at a time. Hands where we can see
them".

Lucy and I exchanged glances. She nodded, making ushering gestures. I stepped
into the doorway with my hands up, like an outlaw in a bad western. I moved
slowly out onto the porch and stepped off to one side. Lucy followed, and I
shot her a quick glance.

What the hell was she doing? She had removed the silken robe and stood naked
in the morning sunlight for all the world to see.

I think she meant to use her nudity as a distraction. I read about that ploy
in a novel, somewhere. It didn't work, though. Our captors were too
professional for that. After a few minutes, a man stepped out from behind a
sequoia, rifle held tight to his shoulder, approaching us with caution. He was
dressed in a black spandex jumpsuit with a Kevlar helmet on his head.

Parachutists! That was how they did it.

He was speaking into a microphone that formed an integral part of his helmet,
as he walked. I heard him say 'all clear so far' as he stepped up onto the
porch. If Lucy's bare flesh made any impression on him, he didn't show it, but
motioned with his gun muzzle for her to stand beside me. He made us move away
from the door, and peered inside.

"Both men down", he reported into his headset. "One dead. The other, possibly.
All right, you two. Do exactly as I say and you'll survive. Get down off the
porch and move five paces toward the trees".

We did as he said. Lucy found time to give me a quick wink, so I would know
she had a plan. I wished I knew what it was.

"Sit down", our captor instructed, as four other men, dressed exactly the
same, emerged from the trees. "Sit down cross-legged, and put your hands on
your heads".

Once again, we obeyed. Lucy might be fast, but even she couldn't move faster
than a bullet, and it didn't look like this guy would suffer from hesitation.
We had to make them believe we were afraid and, in at least one case, this was
no deception. We were being compliant, no threat, in the hope that they would
relax their guard a little.

Three of them kept their weapons trained on us, while the other two advanced
cautiously with plastic zip-ties in their hands. They bent over us, and I felt
the tough restraints tighten around one of my wrists. I kept my eyes on Lucy,
ready to take my cue from her.

From her cross-legged position, Lucy uncoiled upwards in an explosion of
power. The top of her head smashed into the face of the man crouching over
her, and he was flung backwards as if on elastic. As part of the same move,
she pivoted on one leg, her foot blasting into the weapon of another man. The
hard plastic stock shattered under the impact of her bare foot, and the gun
tumbled from his numbed fingers. Her hand shot out and grabbed the back of his
neck. She pitched him sideways and, with arms and legs flailing, he sailed
through the air and cannoned into the original armed man. Both went down in a
tangle of limbs.

I sensed the man above me as he became distracted by the action. I swept my
arm round as hard as I could, scything his legs from under him. He fell
backward and I hurled myself after him, slamming my elbow into his face. I
felt his nose crunch under my blow, and I rolled away from him.

The other armed man made the classic mistake of assuming that I, the man,
against all the evidence of his eyes, was the more dangerous of us two. He got
off a couple of shots in my direction, throwing up puffs of dirt inches from
my rolling body. One of his slugs ricocheted off a rock and hit the propane
tank, which exploded with a 'whoof!' and a sheet of orange flame. As I covered
my head with my arms and came to my knees, I saw Lucy closing in on him.

Her naked body was smeared with dirt and her shaggy blonde hair was dusty and
awry; her shape was silhouetted against the angry flames, but I never saw a
more beautiful sight. Her hand closed on the heavy carbine, and she plucked it
from his hands like taking candy from a baby. She held it at arms length so he
could see, and I had the pleasure of watching his jaw drop and his eyes bug
out when she casually put a twist in the barrel. She took a one handed hold,
and flung the gun away from her. It coptered into the trees several metres
away, crashing through the branches in a shower of needles and twigs, while
she just stared at the man with an irritated expression.

"Little boys shouldn't play with guns", she said.

The she bitchslapped him.

An open handed slap, such as an indignant woman might give a man that had
insulted her, but a Radovic-powered slap that took him full on the side of the
head.

Blood and teeth sprayed from his mouth. The force of the slap lifted him clean
off his feet and he cartwheeled away, spinning around his own centre of
gravity to land, amazingly, back on his feet again. His knees buckled and he
sank slowly to the ground. The cabin was well alight, now, and the roar of the
flames drowned any cry he made. I figured Lucy must have pulled her slap,
because at full power I suspected it would have killed him.

The two men she had slammed together had regained their feet and their
weapons, and were not about to make the same mistake. They knew which was the
dangerous one, right enough. They trained both their guns on Lucy.

"Stand still!" one of them ordered, and Lucy knew when discretion was the
better part of any other option, right then. She stood still. One of them
crabbed toward her, his rifle sighted on her heart. He threw one of the
plastic restraints at her, and she plucked it contemptuously out of the air.

"Cuff yourself".

She shrugged, and obeyed. They weren't to know that she was able to snap the
damned thing at her whim. She pulled it tight around both wrists and held up
her hands, showing she was 'helpless'.

"Yeeaarrgh!"

I let go a full-throated yell as I charged the men. Stupid, I know, but I was
past caring. The red mist had descended, and I'd be buggered if I'd let them
take Lucy without going through me first.

"Sean, no!" I heard her shout, but I was too far gone to take heed. I remember
seeing the guns turn my way, as if in slow motion, and Lucy rising in place to
drop-kick one of the men. I remember a brilliant white flash and a terrible
crack.

Just before the darkness took me.