Re: Lisa the Legend - Chapter 64 now up!
As usual, I take 5 months to think, plan, dwell, postpone and procrastinate and then on one single day I get hit by inspiration and the urge to write, and the whole chapter comes out in one day.
This chapter is partly what my earlier poll in the Writer's Lounge was concerned with. It's nearest cousin is Chapter 30 - Juxtaposition, but this chapter is a lot more significant on a lot of levels.
I hope you guys enjoy it.
Cheers!
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Chapter 64 – Heart of Ice.
1977, December
It was a summery afternoon in Blackthorn City. The main street was bursting with loud teenagers wearing lurid T-shirts, housewives carrying wriggling babies and brown paper bags of groceries, and stoic, silent men with briefcases, darting from one office building to the other as though they were afraid of the sun.
A lanky teenager wearing a sensible white shirt and slacks was almost jogging down the street to keep up with an older man in a formidable grey suit.
“… but overall, I think I passed. Oh, and there was an essay question on the science behind Everstones, which is so dumb to put in an exam, right Dad? I mean, I wrote double the word limit ‘cause I studied up on them, but who would ever use an Everstone on a pokémon? There’s no point.”
Without slowing down or turning to face his son, the suited man said sternly, “There are plenty of reasons why someone might want to use an Everstone, Lance. Delaying evolutions can be vital to some forms of competition, or skill developments. If you’d studied, you’d have known that –”
The black-haired teenager scowled. “I did study, Dad,” he snarled, tone brimming with adolescence, “but it just seems stupid. If you had a Dratini, like I do, why on earth wouldn’t you want to evolve it into something more powerful?”
“There are things more important than power,” grizzled the older man, clutching his brown leather briefcase tighter to his body as he passed a homeless man slumped on the pavement outside a hostel. “And why did you go over the word limit? You lose marks for that, you know.”
Lance shrugged indifferently. “So what? That doesn’t mean I don’t know enough, it just means the marking system is stupid.”
The older man halted abruptly. Glancing around and finding that section of the street relatively free of shoppers, he rounded on his son.
“I am starting to wonder if you have any regard whatsoever for your education, boy. The college examiners won’t bend the rules for one person, however intelligent they may be. You’ve shot yourself in the foot, and for what?”
Lance fell silent. His father’s voice had become dangerous, but deathly quiet.
“I’ll tell you for what,” the suited man continued, pointing a long finger at his son, “for that lady-friend of yours. I won’t let you jeopardise your entire future for a few weeks of frivolity. You will terminate your relationship with that girl by the time you get home tomorrow afternoon, or I will call her parents and end it myself!”
Then, without another word, he adjusted his steel-coloured trilby and continued his brisk walk to his office building.
The teenage boy was a statue for five seconds, staring, stunned, at his red-faced reflection in a puddle, before his father called him to hurry up and follow.
*********
2003, March
Lance Hudson contemplated his reflection in the glossy surface of the mahogany drawing room table. Even in the sparse light of dusk, he could see that the cluster of grey hairs on the front of his head had seemingly doubled in size over the past few hours. He reached for the ‘World’s Best Dad’ coffee mug that rested on one of Susan’s hand-painted coasters and felt a vague thud of disappointment when he realised it was empty.
He shook himself sternly and returned to the thick wad of printed documents he was meant to be reading through. He had never been less motivated to work in his entire life. The contents of the makeshift dossier would only tell him what he already knew, and what he already knew was devastatingly clear. He considered the page of tables and tallies before him for the hundredth time.
No, it simply wasn’t an option.
Just as he put his head in his hands, there was a sudden crackle of static from the small, metallic intercom fitted into the table. Stubbornly massaging his temples, Lance awkwardly manoeuvred his elbow onto the green button on the interface.
“What is it now, Sarah?” he thudded, several hours past being polite.
The female voice on the other end of the intercom was young, crisp and unabashed.
“I have Jim Donovan here to see you.”
Lance didn’t remove his hands from their station, just massaged with more vigour.
“Fine. Send him in.”
“Okay, sir. I’ll bring you another coffee, too.”
A small portion of Lance’s brain danced at the mention of caffeine.
“Thank you, Sarah.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Barely a second after the intercom’s final crackle, there was a clean click from the double doors at the far end of the drawing room, and Jim Donovan entered, looking for all the world as though he had just stepped out of a war zone and into Lance’s office. His grey polo shirt, emblazoned with the logo of his favourite brand of beer, had an enormous purple stain across the chest, while one of the legs of his faded jeans had an enormous slash in them, through which a deep scratch mark was visible. He also sported a very raw graze on his left cheek, which he had apparently refused any treatment for. His eyes were rocklike.
Lance regarded him coolly. “Sit down, Jim,” he said wearily, unsurprised by his associate’s appearance.
“Nah – I’m gonna stand, ta,” said Donovan, his tone both baiting and aggressive.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Jim, sit!” snapped Lance.
“Not ‘til I get some answers,” snarled Donovan, leaning a hairy arm on the backrest of one of the chairs and pointing the other one at Lance accusingly. “Did ya know about the army? Did ya know they’d been compromised by the Union before you sent us in?”
Lance summoned what little mental strength he had left and looked Donovan directly in the eye.
“No, Jim. I didn’t.”
Donovan didn’t lower his threatening finger.
“Yer’d better not be bullshittin’ me, Lance. ‘Cause it musta bin goin’ on for at least a month, prob’ly a year, who knows? Them soldiers were loyal to the Union, not the Government. And it seems to me that you mighta heard at least rumours of Union infiltration through Nate’s sources. It seems pretty fuckin’ obvious to me. So right now I’m wondering why the fuck yer’d send me and my team in to back up Ryan and Maria in extracting Lisa if you knew the whole time that we were WALKIN’ INTO A BLOODY AMBUSH!”
There was a smooth click from the doors, and a young, brown-haired girl walked in to see Jim Donovan punctuate his tirade with a thudded fist on the mahogany table.
“Oh – I can come back –” she said, startled, holding a hand over the mug she carried as if to protect it from the violence of Jim Donovan.
“It’s alright, Sarah, come through. Jim was just taking a seat.” Lance threw a significant glare at Donovan, who, perhaps because of the presence of a teenage girl in the room, appeared to have come to his senses. He lowered his arm and brusquely sat in one of the grey tub chairs that surrounded the long table.
Sarah walked carefully into the room, clearly determined not to spill the coffee. Only once she had swapped the full mug for the empty one did she address Lance.
“I know you’re busy, but Darius is on the phone.”
Lance wrapped his hands around the ceramic coffee cup; this one was a glossy obsidian-coloured mug emblazoned with the crest of the Blackthorn Tigers basketball team. “What does he want?”
Sarah twirled a strand of her wavy brown hair nervously. “Some of the Guard members who were at the hospital attack this morning are staying overnight at the safe house. Darius heard from them what happened to Lisa. He wants to know what the truth is – he wants to hear it from you, I think.”
Not without difficulty, Lance suppressed a deep sigh. “Tell him I’ll call him back when I can,” he said eventually.
Sarah’s rust-coloured eyes looked concerned, but when she spoke, it was only to say, “No problem, sir”, before walking briskly from the room and back to her desk.
The first few drops of scalding coffee already making their way into his system, Lance turned to face the agitated man seated beside him.
“Alright now, Jim, listen to me. If I’d had any idea of what was going to happen today, do you really think I would have sent you in there? Of course not.” Donovan crossed his meaty arms tightly. “I consulted every relevant agent within the Guard before I made any decisions, and I can assure you that none of Nate’s contacts had heard of anything like what we saw today. Nobody knew the Army had been infiltrated, even the Army itself. The Union wormed their way in with stealth, and now we have no way of knowing which branches of the military we can trust and which we can’t.
“I know you’re upset about what happened at Redwood Hospital this morning, but blaming me for what happened won’t bring Robert back, nor will it undo what’s happened to Lisa. And the fact is, Jim, we all knew there was a risk involved with extracting Lisa. We all knew the Union would surely be watching every hospital in the province. We just didn’t realise how far they had gone in their surveillance. To a degree, I suppose we underestimated their doggedness to get hold of Lisa, and a small part of the blame for that does rest with me. But remember who’s behind all this, Jim. Joseph Sterling. The Union. We can’t afford to lose focus on what we’re here for. We need to stop them at every turn. We can’t afford to dwell on our losses. We need to keep an eye to the future. To what comes next.”
Donovan unfolded his arms and rested them expectantly on the wooden table.
“And what does come next, then, boss?” he asked laconically. “I mean, now that the Union have two of the bloody Seven Keys, and one of the three guardians as well.”
“Are you asking this to show me up, or so you have something to tell your team to keep them focused?” demanded Lance.
“The second one, of course.”
Lance forced his face not to become a scowling mask. “We go about business as usual. Our aims and operations haven’t changed. Everyone still needs to be on standby at all times to counter any Union attacks. Information on the location of the Third Key is still pending. When we know where it is, a full-scale retrieval will be launched, and everyone needs to be ready for that.”
Donovan’s face remained expressionless; eventually, he said, “Fine. So whatta ya gonna do ‘bout the damages? Two of our cars went up in smoke. Bloody Union bastards torched ‘em. They had Magmars that looked like they were on steroids … Anyway, there was no way we could save the car or the van. Both blown to pieces by the end of it. We were lucky to all cram into the last car. Anyway … if we’re going to have a decent shot at extracting Lisa, then we’re sure as hell gonna need two new cars. I spoke to Julia an hour ago, she’d tried to call Albert Cripps, but she only got his voicemail. Azura said he’s on a charity cruise in the Whirl Islands until Monday, so we might not be able to reach him ‘til then, which means we might not be able to rescue Lisa until Monday night at the earliest …”
“Jim, we’re not rescuing Lisa at all.”
Lance felt the fact burn his tongue as he said it.
“What?” asked Donovan, cut off.
“We can’t extract Lisa. It’s not an option.”
“What – whaddaya mean?”
“Joseph Sterling was successful in extracting her from Redwood Hospital. Your entire team, plus Ryan and Maria, weren’t able to prevent that from happening. Those agents had her loaded on to that chopper before anyone could stop them. And there was barely a fraction of the Union present there. Sterling will have already transported her to the Union’s most heavily guarded headquarters underneath Silver Rock Island. That is their impenetrable fortress. I’ve known the location for months, as have the police. The reason it hasn’t been attacked by either of us is the same. It would be a suicide mission. We stand absolutely no chance against the Union if we attack them at their base.”
Donovan was shaking his head like a fox terrier that had water in its ears. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing …”
“Believe me, Jim, I wish this weren’t the case, but I’m sure that it is. Sterling tried to get Lisa Walters into the Sepulchre once already, and the only reason he failed is because he had been given the wrong information and believed Lisa to be the guardian of Entei instead of Suicune. He’s a ruthless man, and he’s brilliant. He will not let her escape twice. I have no doubt that Lisa is now locked up beneath Silver Rock Island, and guarded with the heaviest security Sterling can manage.”
“SO YOU’RE GOING TO LET THEM KEEP HER?!” Donovan’s voice cracked hoarsely, like a teenager’s. “YOU’RE JUST – GIVING UP, THAT’S IT? THEY WIN?!”
“You’re losing focus, Jim,” said Lance in the most level voice he could manage. “The Union haven’t won anything. There are still five keys to be found. We still have our other two guardians, Marina and Darius, safe at the Stone’s station. Losing Lisa is damaging to us, yes, and beneficial to our enemy, but that does NOT mean our operations fall apart. The Legend of Ecruteak still stands, and Lisa is not the cornerstone of that Legend, she is only a part of it!”
But Donovan was now beyond cool reason or dialogue – he was looking at Lance as though he had just committed murder.
“I can’t believe I’m hearin’ yer say these things, Lance. ‘She’s just a part of it’, is she?” he demanded hotly. “S’that whatya told ‘er parents?”
“What was said between Ryan, Maria and I is between us!” snarled Lance, quite forgetting to keep his cool; the wound of that morning’s explosive argument was still very raw.
“Ya dog,” spat Donovan, getting to his feet. “Ya won’t even rescue the child of one of yer best mates –”
Lance was on his feet before he knew it; thoughts of having a cool discussion were long forgotten. “YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE! Five minutes ago, I was the bad guy for apparently sending you into an ambush, and now you’re losing your head at me for trying to prevent the same thing from happening again!”
“That’s –” Donovan spluttered angrily. “That’s – not the same thing –”
“My position is final, Jim. You don’t know how hard it was to decide –”
“Oh, poor you, having to sit in yer big office with yer big window and decide the fate of another human!” Donovan raged. He pointed his finger at Lance’s face once again, his air both threatening and disillusioned. “I – cannot – believe ya.”
There was an odd pause: it seemed that Donovan had run out of accusations and Lance seemed unwilling to inflame the argument any further. The two men stood two feet apart, facing each other with tense expressions for perhaps thirty seconds, before Lance said, with steely indifference, “If that’s all, then, Jim, I’ll see you at the meeting on Monday.”
An incredulous smirk came over Donovan’s ruddy face; he shook his head almost warningly before stepping around the tub chair behind him and marching from the room.
The door clicked smoothly behind him.
Lance collapsed into his chair at the head of the mahogany table and stared blankly at the door for several minutes. Then, steadying himself, he reached down to the Blackthorn Tigers mug and took a sip of still-hot white coffee with one sugar. He looked down at the dossier before him. At least it hadn’t been opened to the pages of Nate Thorne’s month-old report on the Union’s rumoured infiltration of the Johto military, or Donovan might really have lost it.
Lance flipped back to the beige cover of the dossier. A yellow sticky note had been tacked onto the front by the person who had prepared the file for him. He frowned and took another, deeper sip of bitter coffee as he reread the message that had been scrawled on it:
Don’t worry son. It gets easier with time.
- Dad.
Originally Posted by mr_pikachu
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