Demigods Page 14

  "Up it is then," he spoke to himself before beginning his trip to the top, because out the back seemed too obvious.

  One flight after another he continued, always keeping his ears open to a closing door, though never did he hear one. He did, on the other hand, feel a vibration in the steps, which could be telling him that she was still going upward.

  Relentlessly he continued up the steps until finally reaching the top, and when he busted through the door, there she was.

  Her powers were useless as long as he had the goggles on, and he knew this as he approached her from behind.

  Slowly he walked up behind her, feeling that God and country's work was about to be done.

  Then she turned, and said something that he was not ready to accept, and he raised his weapon.

  "Please tell Ryan that I will always love him," she said, yet this statement sickened him. Who did men think that they were to assume that they could be like god, and how could they be so wrong?

  This creature had harmed his friend, and that was enough to convince him that he was doing the right thing. Two shots dropped her where she stood.

  "You have a strange way of showing it, lady."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A Product of Her Environment

  The alarm rang more softly than was normally enough to awaken him, and in his state of confusion, he was grateful for this. It was a soft chime which allowed him to feel her arm across him, and her head upon his chest, and he smiled despite the danger that he knew he would be soon be stepping into.

  He turned off the alarm with his right hand as carefully as he could, trying not to disrupt her sleep, still knowing that he had to remove himself from beneath her gentle embrace.

  "I'll miss you," Viper whispered without opening her eyes, or even giving a motion that would have indicated to him that she had been awake.

  "And I will certainly miss you," Charlie told her as he moved to remove himself from beneath her, and she released him just as quickly, while still laying there, seemingly undisturbed.

  As he sat up on the bed he looked back at her. She knew this, and offered a simple smile while appearing rather comfortable with her eyes still closed.

  "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?" he inquired with a playful tone, unwilling to see her there without some sort of physical contact. Her reply took him by surprise.

  Sitting up rather gracefully, she stared at him with her green eyes, and offered a simple smile as she cleared the feeling of sleep from her face, until her eyes grew wider, and her smile more profound.

  "Are you falling in love with me?"

  For a millisecond, he considered turning away, but that was an impossible task. Charlie knew at this very moment that she had captured his heart, and he felt no need to deny it.

  "Yes, I am," he assured her as he reached for her, and pulled her perfect lips to his own, before releasing the kiss quickly, "and I am hoping that you feel the same."

  Playfully she pushed him away, and laid back staring aimlessly off into the distance, and this is when he noticed something quite dangerous.

  Frantically, he looked about until he found the bandana, and grabbed it up where it lied hidden slightly beneath the covers.

  "You have to put this back on," he said in almost a panicked tone, but she simply smiled up at him as she gently took it from his hands.

  "I don't need my eyes to remember you, Charlie," she giggled as she blindfolded herself once more before reaching out, and finding his face.

  "I could never possibly forget you," she continued as she pulled him down to herself to rekindle the kiss.

  Despite the passion of it, they both understood that it had to come to a quick end, yet they both fought to release each other as he slowly pulled away. He had to go back to work for obvious reasons, and they both knew why.

  "As soon as I am done there," he assured her as she still simply smiled up at him, "I will find a way to work this out."

  "I know you will, Charlie," she said before placing both of her hands behind her head, and then casually laying back. "You are the only one that has never tried to hurt me."

  Although her voice was sweet as she said such a thing, he could not help but to feel sorry for her. How could anyone have treated her in the way that they did?

  "I'll never hurt you, Kitten," he comforted as he reached down, and softly stroked her cheek, and the smile grew larger upon her face.

  He stood to grab his keys, walked out of the motel room, and began to wonder how he might make things better. The triplets could see through Viper’s eyes from half way around the world, which made a remote jungle, with no visual clues of its location, seem like the only possible place for the two of them to hide. He would rather be there than to risk her death, and likely his own as well. Somehow, there had to be a better option.

  If he could find a way to make them believe that she was dead, they would be able to go wherever they wanted to, yet he had no idea how he might pull such a thing off.

  Pulling out onto the street, Charlie headed home for a change of clothing. In no way did he want to attract any attention to himself on this day. A nice, hot shower might help him think as well, not to mention remove any scent of a woman that might be on him.

  For a moment, he thought about how he wished that he never had to wash again, because he wanted her scent to always be there, but he knew that these were the thoughts of his inner child. Besides, if everything turned out as well as he hoped they would, she would be replacing that beautiful scent for the remainder of his days.

  This thought however, when referring to the remainder of his days, brought him back to reality. If things did not turn out the way he was hoping, he might not have many days remaining, and that would pretty much ruin everything.

  Pulling into a more familiar place, the garage door closed behind him, and he stepped from his Intrepid, and entered his home. Naturally, Furball was there to greet him, and he felt compelled to pick her up, and cradle her in his arms.

  "Daddy met a woman last night," he said while smiling down upon her, despite the fact that she was oblivious to what he was saying. Nonetheless, she empathized with her master through his expressions and demeanor, and purred wholeheartedly as he stroked her cheek and ear.

  Setting her down by her dish did not bother her at all, for she was well aware of what was to come next, and as he opened the can of food, she purred even louder as she rubbed herself all around his legs.

  "Here you go," he assured her as he spooned the pasty substance into the bowl, and she was never willing to allow him to finish before shoving her face into it.

  Tossing the can into the sink, he figured that he would rinse and recycle it later. At this moment, he had far more important things to think about, and routine did not figure into the equation.

  Walking back to his room, Charlie started to think about his choice of clothing carefully. He was not simply going to work today, because he knew once he left there, he would be going straight back into her arms. The problem occurred when he realized that he had no idea what clothing she might find most attractive.

  "She obviously likes black and red," he spoke only to himself before thumbing through his drawers, but the next question was what did he have that would go well with her choices?

  Determining that he didn’t want to clash with her, or put on something that would in any way make them look ridiculous together, he chose the beige slacks while figuring that they would go well with his silky, black, button-up shirt.

  Grabbing a pair of his tighty-whities made his journey complete, and he went to find solace in the warmth of the cascading water.

  Tossing the clothing on the top of the hamper, he thought about everything for a moment. Everything, naturally, is a big pill to swallow, and he pushed his curly, red hair back from his face as he tried to fathom such a dilemma.

  Again his doubts began to creep in, knowing how gifted the triplets were. He had never realized it, or even known that they existed unt
il the Mirage thing, but now he was well aware of what he was up against.

  Still, it did not matter to him. He was falling deeply in love with her, and the government had recruited him for his mind. He was smarter than they were, and he knew this, and that is what gave him the confidence to continue.

  As the warm water hit his shoulders, he imagined for a moment that it was her touch. So soft it had been while so confused, and he only hoped that he could, in some way, keep her attention. He was not naive, after all.

  Then he considered her origin, and began to understand that she did not look at him as other women did. She was created to be genetically perfect, yet still she fell in love with him.

  Perhaps he was not as awkward as he felt that he was. Perhaps because she did not know what awkward was, he finally had a chance. Perhaps she really did love him simply because he was a good man, and he embraced such a notion.

  He hardly remembered washing himself, or even drying and dressing afterward, for the thoughts of her were overpowering, and made him oblivious. She was his sustenance, and in his mind, he consumed her.

  "What should I do?" he asked of the longhaired, Siamese cat that waited patiently outside of the bathroom door. "I finally found someone to love, but I don't even know how to love."

  Walking back to his living room, he ran his fingers through his wet, curly, red hair. This had always been combing enough, and the image of her beauty would not allow a change in such a normal thing to him.

  "Do you think that she really loves me?" he once again inquired, as though the cat might somehow console his confusion.

  He smiled for a moment, remembering her light green eyes, confident that, considering the circumstances, she truly did love him. Sure she didn’t go through life like a normal woman, but that is also what made him certain that she felt for him exactly as she had said.

  Most women thought of him as a nerd, and why wouldn’t they, since he was? He had curly, red hair with a spray of freckles, and a face that was hardly considered masculine, but she was beyond such a thing. Viper was someone that would, by no means, judge him by his appearance.

  Finally, he had found someone who would accept him for his heart, and he surely believed that he had a good one. He understood that this was odd, yet knew what she was. Viper was not like other woman, but was created to be the perfect one, and still he was the one that she was falling in love with.

  Looking at the clock, he saw that it was time to leave, and he snatched up his keys once more.

  The drive to work took about an hour, and all along the way, he thought of how he might find a way to make them believe that she had died. It would certainly not be an easy task, because they would have to believe it without ever having a body to examine when it was done.

  Pulling into his parking spot, and stepping from his car, produced different thoughts, like how he should act when he entered. Acting normal was the obvious choice, and normally required no thinking, but it was his thinking that was getting in the way.

  "Just think about the Steelers," he told himself, which was something else that came naturally, having been born and raised in Pittsburgh. Anyone who was from there thought the same way, and if you did not, you evidently were not raised there.

  This did well at first, as he scanned his ID, and entered the advanced weapons research facility. One of the corporals behind the security desk, however, brought his mind racing back to the things that now troubled him.

  "Doctor Seawald is in his office, doc," he told Charlie, hardly looking up from the work that he was doing. "He wants to see you right away."

  "Thanks, Bill," he replied without ever revealing his nervousness as he stepped up to the door that would lead him into the most classified wing of the building.

  Swiping his card once more, and standing still in front of the retinal scanner, his mind began to fear every possibility. Doctor Clifford Seawald was the resident geneticist, and the artist behind the genomes that later became Mirage and Viper. The fact that he wanted to see him right away was discomforting, to say the least.

  The walk to the man's office seemed like the endless mile, before he realized that it would have been the guards at the door, and not the doctor, who would have been waiting for him, had his deeds been discovered. Still, it was cause for concern.

  "You wanted to see me, Cliff?" he asked as he entered the office, yet Dr. Seawald sat behind his desk for a moment, simply looking up at him.

  Rubbing his bald head before he began to stroke his well-trimmed, white beard, he finally spoke up.

  "Have a seat, Charlie," and Charlie did not like the sound of this at all, which only magnified his state of uneasiness.

  Sitting as the man had requested, they stared at each other for a brief moment, before the geneticist dropped his gaze, and struggled to find the right words.

  "I know that you and Mirage were rather close," he began as he removed his glasses, and raised his eyes once more, "and I wanted to be the one to tell you this."

  An overwhelming sigh of relief passed over him, realizing that it had nothing to do with Viper, but he also had a very good idea about where the conversation was leading. It was something that he knew would happen in only a matter of time, though it was something that he had no control over.

  "Did they get her?" he asked, and the response was an expected one.

  "Yes, they did. Just last night."

  Off the hook or not, the news brought tears to his eyes, for she was a friend in the truest sense of the word. Never was she judgmental, and even when one thought that she had reason to be, Mirage would always empathize with them, rather than blaming them for their obvious wrongs.

  He was one of those same people, for when she was first birthed, he thought of her as a machine, albeit an intelligent one, who was created by men.

  "You can see me however you like," she once told him in the beginning with that endearing smile, and light blue eyes. "It doesn't offend me."

  This was back when she spoke perfect English, though he was the one responsible for changing that. She had once asked him about what men found attractive in a woman, and he told her a few things, but one of those things was a woman with an accent. It flattered him the way that her next words were spoken with one.

  At that time, he already understood that she had eyes for Ryan, who was not only his friend, but her firearms instructor as well, but the fact that he made a difference was reward enough.

  "You seem to be taking this well," Clifford interrupted, and Charlie simply looked up at him, and smiled.

  "She had such an impact on us all," Charlie responded, "and I refuse to allow her death to tarnish her memory."

  "You are wise beyond your years," Cliff returned as he began to stroke his white beard again, impressed by the young man's outlook on the situation.

  Their moment of memories, however, was interrupted by the lab tech that burst through the door.

  "Viper is gone!"

  The older scientist stood to his feet, needing to understand the details.

  "Do you know why she died yet?" he quickly inquired, though was hardly ready for what he would hear next.

  "I didn't say she was dead," he said more clearly, and with less overreaction. "I said she was gone."

  Doctor Seawald thought about this for a moment before he presented the next, obvious question, which was actually a digression.

  "Say again?"

  Naturally, this is where Charlie's heart began to beat more rapidly, but he understood that his confused state of mind would begin to seem normal.

  "She isn't in the tube anymore... She's gone."

  "Have you checked the security footage," he questioned as he moved from behind his large desk, "to see who took her?"

  "According to the camera," he answered, staring dumbfounded into the eyes of the geneticist, "she is still in the tube."

  This was when Charlie realized what she had meant when she said that they would not know that she was gone until the morning. She was very smar
t, just like Mirage, and he understood that this time the G.E.O. had chosen him.

  "My clever little Kitten," he thought to himself as he stood up, and followed the two men out the door.

  As though checking for himself would make a difference, doctor Seawald went to the lab, and peeked into the room. Everything seemed perfectly normal, save for the fact that she was definitely not in her tube.

  "Have you talked to the colonel yet?" Dr. Seawald asked of the technician, and a "negative" was the response he received.

  "Perhaps he knows where she is," he continued as he walked past them both, and further down the hallway. "He really should have informed me when he intended to move her."

  Charlie simply followed, knowing that this encounter was not going to go well, and he tried to act as curious and surprised as Clifford did. The beauty of it was that it was Clifford's department, and not his own, so he could stand back, and simply listen.

  "Did you move Viper without consulting me first?" the geneticist barked at the colonel as he entered his office, "because I really need to know about such things."

  Suddenly the colonel's eyes widened, and he stood from his relaxed position behind his large desk.

  "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked sternly with both hands on the surface before him.

  "Viper isn't in her room," Clifford stated in a clear tone, still convinced that he was left out of the loop, "and I would like to know why."

  "Is this true?" the weathered colonel asked of the technician, who was also an enlisted man.

  Quickly he stood to attention, and answered the question.

  "Yes, sir," he stated clearly. "She is no longer there."

  Slothfully, the colonel sat back in his chair. It was only last night when his biggest problem had found a solution, and just that quickly, an even greater one presented itself.

  "Charlie," the colonel said as he slowly looked up at him with an expression that revealed how he had gone through too much already, "find a keyboard, and figure out what happened."