Shackled

[Fish_Tales]

“But don't you know, I like'em big,” she said.

Cheeky sod.

Hansen got to work on the sandwiches. He had some rye bread and not much else. Mrs. Chan had given him a cold chicken for helping her clean her shop after vandals had sprayed the front of it and that would have to do for a filling. If they were going to be bunkered down longer, then he’d have to think about food tomorrow. He had plenty of beer, but survival on that would be difficult. He knew; he’d tried it.

Emma walked across to him.

“Um...I hate to keep taking advantage of your hospitality, but...I don't suppose I could use your shower for just a minute? It has been a few days and well...”

“Knock yourself out, Irish. I promise not to peek...much,” he said.

He chuckled to himself.

Wait till she finds out there’s no hot water.

He heard her draw her breath in sharply when the cold water hit her and he chuckled again.

“You’ll get used to it,” he called out to her as he walked to the fridge, but he didn’t think she heard him. He could have taken a quick peek at her on his way to fetch the chicken, but he didn’t think that was fair and it was no way to build trust. Much to his surprise, he really did like her. She’d coped well with everything that had been thrown at her and she’d retained her spirit. She was going to have tell him what was going on, but he figured a shower and the warmth of the room would make her feel comfortable. There was plenty of time for that.

He made a couple of chicken sandwiches for them each. He took another couple of beers from the fridge and set one next to her sandwich on the counter and then he went and sat on the bed to start his dinner. Well, at one a.m it wasn’t really dinner, but he needed to stop that gnawing in his stomach.

She walked out in his t shirt and it hung down to her knees. He chuckled to himself again. She looked freshly scrubbed and attractive, except her lips were blue.

It’s hard being on the run. Wait till you’ve been doing it for years.

“You’ll warm up soon enough,” he said looking at her with a wry grin.

He hadn’t bothered to put his jeans and t shirt on yet, but he figured if she was going to wear just a t shirt then there wasn’t too much between them now anyway.

She got her meal from the bench and sat down. “Thank you,” she said and began to eat.

“Don’t mind me with the beers,” he said, “but I do tend to like a few, ah, ‘tranquilizers’ of an evening. You don’t have to keep up, otherwise you might pass out. We might need to run again tomorrow and it’s murder with a hangover.”

He looked at her sitting on the edge of the bed.

You're a pretty one, Irish.

He finished a mouthful of his sandwich and washed it down with a beer. He studied her sitting on the bed as he ate. He always ate and drank slowly and chewed every mouthful very carefully. He was trying to think, but he really needed to know why they wanted her.

“So, Irish, er, I mean Emma. You say you’re a scientist. Now, I know I’m a charming hunk of a man, but why did I really run into you tonight?” he said. “And why do they want to kill you?”

He sat back and continued with his food.

Ball’s in your court, Irish. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.

He waited.

 

[EklectikChik]

And there it was. The million dollar question. She was trying not to scarf down the sandwich as though she hadn't eaten in days, but she truly hadn't really eaten in days. Her stomach cramped painfully as she forced herself to go slow, swallowed and took a sip of his brew. She had never been much of a drinker and the beer was bitter on her tongue. Pulling a face, she set it aside, thinking that this had to be the best sandwich ever made in human history, when logically she knew it wasn't.

“I am a scientist or was...” She began and picked up her food, setting the plate aside and getting up. Walking to her shoes, she crouched down, making her to bend at the knees so she wasn't flashing him an eyeful of pale bottom anything else he might enjoy.

Carefully she dug the disk she'd set on the inside of her shoe while his back had been turned and returned. Feeling as though they were in it together now, she tossed it to him, watching the shiny piece of technology plop down in front of him as she took another bite and sighed happily. Her cheeks bulged slightly as she chewed and swallowed, climbing onto the bed to face him.

He looked so casual and so good, his lean body relaxed as if he hadn't a care in the world. She was slowly warming up and fatigue was taking its tole, but she knew she owed him some information. At the very least! Drawing in a breath and started. “Ten years ago I was hired on as a scientist for THE most powerful pharmaceutical companies. I was only 24, eager, naive and had grand ideas of saving the world with affordable drugs for all. The perks weren't bad either. I got a warm place to live in, food, a little money in my pocket and a little extra to send home. So I couldn't complain.”

Pressing the bottle to her lips, she took another sip of the bitter brew. “I don't want to brag, but, I soon climbed up to one of the lead scientists in one particular venture. Needless to say, I was very excited. This was exactly what I had envisioned it to be. I could taste the success. Can you imagine it? Affordable drugs for everyone? Enough to go around when someone is sick? It would mean healthier children, seniors, hell – adults!”

His eyes studied her intently and she felt a little self conscious as she said to hell with it and scarfed the rest of her food down with a long draw of beer at the end and moaned. “God, that was good. Thanks.” Tucking his oversized shirt over her knees, she tugged it lower her legs as she drew her knees up, leaving her small bare feet sticking out the bottom. Her eyes turned darker as she remembered finding out the real truth behind the project. “We were almost there...on the verge of a breakthrough. I came in one day a little early, eager to get back at it. Only, I ended up walking into a lot more than I bargained for. Someone had leaked some information out...probably a tech who didn't know any better. At first I thought it was bullshit. But as I did some digging, I found it to be all true. The corporation is going to use the information that I copied on that disk there to start and endemic and it won't be pretty. If you think things are bad now, they will be a hundred times worse. They will find the fight for complete control.”

Her voice broke off as she drew in a breath, clearing her throat. No tears, she'd promised, no crying. “It's my fault. I should have realized, I should have known! When I learned the truth, I panicked and copied all my data. I only told one person whom I trust implicitly. I knew they were onto me. You can't just copy shit off the system and get away with it. But he managed to get me out before someone caught me. That was three days ago and I've been running since. I can finish the project we started, the cure to this disease that they will spread. If I don't though, all hell will break loose and people will start dropping like flies. I don't know how we'll get this out and who to trust, but we...I...need to find a way.”

She drew a shaky breath and blew it out, her shoulders sagging as she propped her chin on her knees. “I really am sorry I got you into this...I was just looking to get warm. I didn't expect to bump into The Hills Poolboy.” She added lightly.

 

[Fish_Tales]

He sat back and listened to her story. He was amazed she could get her sandwich down so quickly. Obviously she hadn’t eaten for a while. By her grimacing, he could tell she didn’t like beer.

More for me in case the end of the world happens.

Halfway through her story, she got up off the bed and walked towards her shoes. The impact of her story had not lessened her attractiveness. She was a glorious sight walking in his t shirt. He smirked as she tried to extricate a disk from her shoes without giving him an eyeful. She nearly succeeded, but not quite.

Nice ass.

She turned to him and he returned his face to a serious countenance. She threw the disk on the bed in front of him.

“This is what they want to kill you for?” he asked.

She nodded, chewing on the final part of her sandwich.

“God, that was good. Thanks.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No worries.”

She moved herself fully onto the bed and sat next to him. She had the t shirt stretched over her knees and all that was showing were her small feet.

Beautiful little feet.

He so wanted to reach out and stroke them, to make her feel safe.

Take it easy, Hansen. You’re getting attached. You remember what happened the last time you got attached? Yeah, that’s right.

I really should do something about you voices….

He shook his head slightly. She didn’t see him and she continued her story.

“It's my fault. I should have realized, I should have known! When I learned the truth, I panicked and copied all my data. I only told one person whom I trust implicitly. I knew they were onto me. You can't just copy shit off the system and get away with it. But he managed to get me out before someone caught me. That was three days ago and I've been running since. I can finish the project we started, the cure to this disease that they will spread. If I don't though, all hell will break loose and people will start dropping like flies. I don't know how we'll get this out and who to trust, but we...I...need to find a way.”

She stopped talking. She looked depressed and tired and slumped so that her chin rested on her knees. Her face was doleful. “I really am sorry I got you into this...I was just looking to get warm. I didn't expect to bump into The Hills Poolboy.”

We?

Hansen, she said ‘we’. Now’s the time we say, ‘nice to meet you, no worries and bye’.

I can’t do that. She’s fucked. She won’t last a day out there on her own. Plus, we've got the electronic shackles.

Someone will know how to decommission the shackles. She's lasted this long.

Dumb luck. Not that she’s dumb. We can't listen to this about an epidemic and not do anything. Sounds like she can do something about it.

Great! Save the children, yada yada yada. I don’t want to die.

We've never been scared of dying before. We can really stick it to those fucking monsters and for once it won’t be W.I.I.F.M.

Don’t pull that ‘what’s in it for me’ shit. Remember the last time you did something because it was the right thing to do? No one is alive.

Carl is.

He’s Carl. He’s unkillable.

Fuck it, I’m helping her.

It’s your problem.

Hansen smiled to himself.

Oh, no it’s not. You’ll be there too. Thanks bro’.

He brought himself back into the room and looked at her.

“Ha,” he said to her, “I’d whip The Hills Pool Boy’s ass!”

He got up and went to the bench. He put his jeans and t shirt on. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. He pulled another beer from the fridge and took a long drag on it. Then he placed his hands on the bench and looked at her on the bed.

“So these bastards are going to start an epidemic and then keep the cure so that they can regulate who dies and who doesn’t?”

She nodded. She looked tired.

“And this disk has everything you need to develop a cure?”

She nodded again. She looked really tired now.

Maybe the time for questions is tomorrow.

He walked over to the bed. He took her hand and lifted her onto her feet. He pulled the covers of the bed back and lay her down on there. When she was laying her head on the pillow, he pulled the covers back over her. He sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her shoulder and head a couple of times.

“Well, Irish, this is your lucky week,” he said. “I have a couple of spare days to save the world. We'll work out the fee later, but because you let me stick my hands down your pants, I reckon a discount is in order. Plus, I can't very well spend my fee if I don't save the world. How incentivised.”

He looked down at her, smiling for a few moments, then he leant over and kissed her on the forehead.

He got up, sculled the last of his beer and switched the light off in the room. He went to the bed and lay next to her, on top of the covers.

I was just going to have a beer and now I’m saving the world.

You’re a dickhead, Hansen.

“Shut up,” he said.

Oops.

He felt her flinch.

“Sorry,” he said, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The voice in his head smiled.

Suicide. That’s what this is. Suicide.

 

[EklectikChik]

She was too tired to argue as he tucked her into his bed, even more surprised when he gently caressed her head and shoulder and then dropped a kiss on her head. Big bad Liam was showing a softer side which she was going to quickly get used to if he didn't stop.

There were other issues to tackle of course. Like the fact that they were literally stuck together due to the implanted devices. She tried to focus on the things she needed to talk to him about, but fatigue was quickly taking over and soon was lulled by the warmth of the room and comfort of his bed. She was half asleep when she heard him. His voice rang clear in the silence of the room.

“Shut up.”

She flinched, jerking back awake and then settled down again. Too tired to wonder who he thought he was talking to, she drifted off with a soft yawn.

Emma slept hard, but sometime in the night stirred, her body stiffening at the feel of Liam's body curled up against her own, one heavy arm over her hip, his hand splayed loosely over her abdomen. The panic that sharply spiked soon dissipated when she realized where she was and who he was. He must have rolled she realized, seeking comfort and warmth himself and it felt good. His warm breath fanned her clean hair, tickling her scalp. Smiling to herself, she let it be, feeling secure and protected and let herself drift back into the blackness.

 

[Fish_Tales]

Silver haired man

The silver haired man followed the woman and walked into the office. He was meeting Paul Lindeman, the Chairman of Pfizaxson, the largest drug company in the world.

The woman pointed him to a seat and he sat across the desk from Lindeman. The size of the desk meant that he was still a few metres away from him.

“So what the fuck happened?” asked Lindeman. He was fat. He was bald. And he was bombastic. Three things the silver haired man detested.

But he was the Chairman of Pfizaxson, so he basically ran the country. Years ago, he would have been called The President, but that had ceased with the end of democracy.

“We lost her,” said the silver haired man. “But we’ll find her again. Soon.”

“The news stream said it was fucking carnage down there,” said Lindeman, banging the desk.

Lindeman’s antics didn’t bother the silver haired man. He’d seen worse. He’d done worse.

“Yes, they killed eighteen men and critically injured two.”

Lindeman looked across at him and raised his eyebrows. “So there were people with the girl?”

“Yes,” said the silver haired man. “Liam Hansen and Carl O’Shaughnessy. It looks like she has business….”

Lindeman put his hand up and cut him off.

“Hang on there,” he said. “You’re telling me, that two men and a female scientist took out twenty of your crack Special Police Force members? Please, don’t tell me that. Do you know how much money we give you to run the SPF? Do you?” he yelled.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“Last year it was over fucking fifty, fucking million, fucking dollars. I was part of the committee that set up the SPF to protect the interests of our country and our corporations.”

“Yes, sir,” said the silver haired man. “I understand that. We will get her.”

Lindeman wasn't satisfied.

“Dammit! Two men and a fucking girl scientist putting billions of dollars at risk....”

“Sir, if I may ask, what does the girl have that makes it imperative to kill her?”

Lindeman looked at him impassively, but his face was getting redder.

“No, you may not fucking ask. It doesn’t fucking matter and it’s none of your fucking business!” he yelled. “I want her fucking dead. Get it. D.E.A.D…. Dead!”

The silver haired man nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“And who the hell are the other fucking guys anyway?”

“Sir, one is Liam Hansen….”

Lindeman smashed the table again with his fist.

“You already told me that!!”

“Sir, you don’t understand….”

“What the fuck? I don’t understand….”

The silver haired man interrupted him.

"Sir, Liam Hansen is his real name, but seven years ago he worked under the name of Patrick Flannery.”

Lindeman went quiet and his face looked worried.

“Patrick Flannery? The Patrick Flannery? From Australia.”

The silver haired man nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

Lindeman looked more thoughtful now, less antagonistic.

“He destroyed Hardacre Industries. He killed all their management….He murdered the Chairman and CEO on tape and had it sent to every corporation….”

“Yes, sir,” said the silver haired man. “He did.”

“And you never caught him?”

“No, sir,” he said. “He was underground. He was harmless, just doing some small jobs for small dissident groups. Chasing informers, running guns, that sort of thing. But….”

“Yes?” said Lindeman

“Sir, but two years ago we captured his wife and daughter,” he said. “We lured him in by promising him that they would be released if he came in and gave himself up.”

“I never heard about this. What happened?”

“Sir, when he met our people at the meeting point, the guards shot his wife and child....” the silver haired man paused. “….in front of him.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“Yes, sir. What we didn’t know was that he had brought Carl O’Shaughnessy and a team of men with him. He escaped.”

“Now you have a fucking angry killing machine with nothing to live for?”

The silver haired man nodded.

“Yes, sir. He is extremely dangerous. In the opinion of many, he poses more risk to our way of life than a rogue state.”

“Shit.”

“Yes, sir. That is the term used most often in reference to Hansen. Shit.”

Lindeman sat back, his fat gut spilling over the belt of his pants.

“Well, we need to kill them all then. If Hansen is working with the girl, then we need to terminate him as well. We can’t afford loose ends.”

“Yes, sir,” nodded the silver haired man. “As soon as I leave here, I will put out an order that Hansen, O’Shaughnessy and the girl are to be terminated with extreme prejudice. There will be no option or scope for their survival.”

Lindeman looked at him.

“I don’t care how many men you need, what you need, you have it. Just call. Whatever it fucking takes.”

The silver haired man looked impassively at him.

“Thank you, sir,” he said and started to get up from his seat.

“I want them all dead,” reiterated Lindeman, as if saying it often enough would make it happen.

“Yes, sir,” said the silver haired man as he started to walk to the door.

“Wait,” called Lindeman.

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t, sir,” he said.

He turned and walked out the door.

 

[Fish_Tales]

He lay there next to Emma, listening to her breathing till it became regular and he knew she was asleep. Then he quietly rose from the bed, switched off the heater and got back into bed, this time under the sheets. He kept his clothes on as he didn’t want any misunderstandings. He found it hard to fall asleep with her body next to him. He hadn’t slept next to someone for over two years.

He tried to keep a respectful distance from her, but as he got tired and his body shut down, he rolled and touched her. Then he pulled her a little closer and wrapped his arm around her. It was an automatic response, but in the fog of his mind he knew what he was doing.

She’s asleep, she won’t remember tomorrow. I need something. I need to touch her….

He pressed his face to the top of her head, smelling the soap on her hair. He smiled to himself as he realised he was lying at forty five degrees so that there would be no possible contact of his lower body with hers.

Ah, gentleman Hansen….

Her warmth and the comfort of holding her gently led him to sleep.

****

Hansen awoke and thought the voices would never stop. He knew what they’re problem was. They could see what was coming.

Love no one. Care for no one. It makes you weak. It only hurts you.

So you let her fend for herself? Let her die. Like Jess….

Like Cassie….

You couldn’t save them. You’re 0 for 1.

Shut up.

Please? Just shut up….

The girl. Emma. He could feel her next to him in the darkness. She was warm and pressing back into him. He was holding her, his arm over her waist, her breathing rhythmical and comforting. He pressed his head against hers.

You won’t die.

Oh, like Jess? Like Cassie?

You won’t die….

He fell back to sleep.

****

They were standing at the river. In his hands, he held the note and he held a disk.

“Drop the weapon and come forward,” boomed the voice from the loudspeaker.

There were cars everywhere. They were in a horseshoe formation, about fifty metres from him. In the middle of the horseshoe, there were SPF’s and they had Jessica and Cassie.

He had to yell.

“What about them?” he said.

“They’re safe,” came the voice. “You have our word on that.”

“You’re word?”

“Yes.”

He started to walk forward. Carl and the others were there. They were hidden, but they were there. Somewhere. Their first priority was his wife and daughter. He kept walking forward.

When he was about twenty metres away, he stopped.

“Let them go now,” he said.

The men guarding his wife and daughter moved back slightly.

The damned loudspeaker. Why couldn’t they just talk to him?

“When we have you, then they will be released, not before. Move forward. I repeat, once you are secured, they will be released unharmed.”

He was willing to take the risk. They didn’t know about Carl and the others. The plan had been for him to not be apprehended at all, but this was his wife and his daughter. If this was what it took, then so be it. Fuck, if it came down to that, if his wife and daughter were safe, then he didn’t care if he was apprehended and killed.

As long as they were safe.

He was so close he could speak to them in a normal voice.

“Oh, Liam,” cried Jessica. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“There, there,” he said, “everything'll be alright.”

His daughter was crying, hanging on to her mother's leg. His chest felt tight watching her so distraught.

"It'll be ok, Cassie. Daddy promises."

He was circled by the SPF’s. He held his hands out and they fastened his wrists together with the polymer locks.

A man came out of the largest vehicle. He was a cold looking man, his face thin and his hair was silver. He didn’t wear a helmet. Odd for the SPF, but he was obviously of a high rank. He turned to the men holding the woman and the girl.

“Let them go.”

The helmeted officers just stood there.

He looked to Hansen with a stern look.

“You’ll pay for all you’ve done, Flannery, but I keep my word.”

“Thanks,” said Hansen, “and fuck you.”

The corners of the silver haired man’s mouth tried to rise in a smile, but it looked like his face would crack if he continued so he reverted to a compassionless stare. He turned back to his men.

“Ok, Lieutenant, we have Flannery, now let them go.”

“Sir, those aren’t our orders.”

The silver haired man looked at them as if he’d misheard.

“Your orders, Lieutenant,” he said slowly, “are to do what I tell you to do.”

“Sir, those aren’t our orders.”

Two SPF’s walked up behind the silver haired man and stood beside him. Then another came up behind him. The silver haired man was caught in his own horseshoe.

He looked at Flannery. Flannery looked at him. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

“Sir,” said the Lieutenant, “our orders are to show Flannery what happens to anyone who tries to disrupt our way of life.”

Flannery tried to move forward and he was hit with the butt of a gun. His eyes went bright and he fell to his knees.

“What….”

The expression on the face of the silver haired man didn’t change, but his body tensed. The SPF’s were aware of this and they moved in closer.

“Sir, we were given orders this morning.” The Lieutenant looked towards the men holding Jessica and Cassie and they raised their weapons.

Flannery sat on his knees in the dirt, his ears still ringing from the blow and his eyes blurry.

“Noooo……”

The blast of guns was all he heard.

Then slience.

His life had ended.

As they fell onto the ground, it wasn’t Jessica and Cassie. It was Emma.

Two Emmas.

Fuck me, Hansen, you couldn’t even save one?

****

He woke with a start. He was sweating. It was still early.

What….

He was holding on to Emma. He remembered now. He hoped he hadn’t waked her. He was pressing her close, his left arm around her waist, pulling her into him and his head on the top of her own. He slowly tried to extricate his arm from around her without too much disturbance.

He wouldn’t get to sleep again. He lay on his back with his arms folded behind his head and stared at the ceiling. There was just enough light from his watch for there to be a dull green hue around him. He listened to her breathing and felt the warmth of her body under the sheets. It was comforting.

He felt better after sleeping.

He thought of his daughter and what she used to say in the morning. This time there were no tears. He was happy. He knew what he had to do.

What are we going to do today, daddy.

He smiled to himself.

Well, hon, I think we have to look after a scientist.

That sounds like fun.

Sure does. And then we’re going to blow up and kill every motherfucker that’s fucking up this place. But hon, that might take me a week or so, ok?

That’s ok, daddy. You said a bad word. I won’t tell mommy, but be careful. You’ll get in trouble.

Yeah, sorry, hon.

Motherfuckers.

 

[EklectikChik]

The second time around, Emma woke more slowly, stretching her body under the sheets and then burying her face in the pillow. She hadn't noticed before, but now she was more alert, she could smell him on the sheets and it was once again, strangely soothing. Still, while she could have stayed there half the day being lazy, there was no time for it.

Rolling onto her back, she noticed he'd already gotten up, the sound of the shower giving her a clue that he was washing up. With a yawn, she slowly slid out of bed and grabbed her now clean and dry panties, slipping them on followed by her jeans. Since the shower was still running, she turned her back to the kitchen/bathroom area just in case and took off her shirt, making short work of slipping on her bra and then the shirt. Feeling a lot less naked, sat back down and finger combed her hair a moment, styling it in a long loose braid for now. It was at least practical.

Her stomach growled, but she still wasn't comfortable enough to 'help herself' in his place. This was still his domain and she was intruding. Not really an invited guest. Standing, she noticed her disk sitting on the small bedside table and stared at it, remembering their conversation from the night before. Did they have a chance?

Lost in thought, she jerked her gaze towards him and then quickly averted her gaze to the ceiling again, one hand coming up to shield her eyes. "Ah, sorry. Caught me off guard." She mumbled, wondering which way she should turn to avoid getting an eye full.

She heard him chuckle with amusement. "Are you shy, Irish?"

A slow flush once again crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks all the way to the tip of her ears. OK...so she wasn't a virgin, but not only had it been many many years since her last encounter with a naked male, it had been less than impressive for one and she couldn't say that she'd spent much time enjoying the opposite sex like some. Too engrossed with her work, she lacked a lot when it came to matters of men and women, especially in the bedroom.

"I can tell that you're not. For shame, Liam." She teased back and cleared her throat again, studiously dropping her head and studying her bare toes while he got dressed.

 

[Fish_Tales]

It felt good to have a shower. The cold water didn't bother Hansen. He’d been having cold showers for years. He had grown up on the beach in southern Australia and in winter the water there was frigid. Well, so far as Australia goes.

He finished up and stepped out into the kitchen area. Emma was up and she looked straight at him.

"Ah, sorry. Caught me off guard,” she said quickly, averting her eyes.

He laughed.

"Are you shy, Irish?" he said.

She was blushing furiously and she didn’t know which way to look. Which, of course, made it all the more fun for him. He made sure to stand there for a few extra moments before grabbing his towel, but then he put her out of her misery by quickly towelling himself down and wrapping the towel around his torso.

"I can tell that you're not. For shame, Liam,” she said, looking at her toes as if she’d never seen them before.

“You’re redder than a beetroot, Irish,” he laughed. “No fear, I wasn’t shy last night with you, that’s for sure. You should keep your hands to yourself you know. It was only the first date and I wasn't expecting payment in that way.”

He winked at her. He knew he was being mean as nothing had happened, but the sight of her turning ruby made him nearly keel over with laughter.

He turned to the counter and dressed himself. Then he made a big show of of walking over to her and waving his hand in front of her face.

“You can look now,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m sure your toes will still be there later so you can stop counting them.”

She looked up at him. For a moment his face turned serious. He took her hand gently.

“Emma. I’ll do what I can. You’re as safe with me as with anyone. But you have to trust me. It could get ugly and I’ll do things…. things you don’t like. I’m not always nice and I’m not always fair, but I care…. believe me I care….”

He was lost in thought for a few moments, but then he snapped out of it. He dropped her hand and walked back to the kitchen bench. On the way, he picked up his dirty jeans from last night. He rifled through the pockets and pulled out the small electronic transponder, its green light blinking. He set it down on the bench.

He slapped his hands together and said, “Well, for breakfast we have a choice. Weak coffee or strong coffee. What’ll be, Irish?”

Then he reached behind him, opened a cupboard door and slapped down a bottle on the bench.

Whiskey.

"For courage," he said.

His face was serious.

 

[EklectikChik]

She was touched by his words and something else that lingered in his gaze. Something told her that Liam definitely had a past he more than likely didn't want to talk about. She had no intentions of prodding for his deep seeded secrets either, but for a moment she wanted to wrap her arms around him and squeeze him tightly. It was silly. He could take care of himself better than she could herself, but he inspired the need to comfort him.

Shaking her head, she watched him mark over the kitchen. Coffee? Oh there was a God after all and he was merciful! “Weak is never an option. Strong all the way, but, not sure I want the whiskey this time around.”

The look he shot her called her a chicken and she sighed and sat down on a nearby stool, leaning against the counter, “Well okay...maybe a splash.”

Eying the transponder as he worked around the kitchen, Emma picked it up, studying it. “Do you know...anything about what they implanted in us? I'm pretty handy with technology, but I can't say that I've ever paid much attention to SPF's use of weaponry. Sticking so close might prove to be tricky at times. Plus, do we get any sort of warning before one or the other explodes? Seems rather barbaric. Not that I expected much else from them.”

The scent of coffee made her stomach clench and mouth water. “If I molest you in my sleep again tonight, will you give me more coffee in the morning?” She teased, her eyes sparkling, warm and flecked with little bits of gold.

 

[Fish_Tales]

“If I molest you in my sleep again tonight, will you give me more coffee in the morning?” she said, her brown eyes sparkling.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at her, “I have standards, you know. It was only a first date last night. What kind of guy do you think I am?”

He went back to the coffee. The smell permeated the room. It was one of the most relaxing things he thought to do these days, make a strong coffee. The smell itself was enough to be comforting. The percolator had finished and he poured them both a cup. He added a splash of whiskey to each cup, making sure that his splash was a little bigger.

Emma was looking at the transponder on the bench.

“Do you know...anything about what they implanted in us? I'm pretty handy with technology, but I can't say that I've ever paid much attention to SPF's use of weaponry. Sticking so close might prove to be tricky at times. Plus, do we get any sort of warning before one or the other explodes? Seems rather barbaric. Not that I expected much else from them.”

Hansen was leaning forwards on the kitchen bench, propped on his elbows and sipping his coffee.

“You didn’t have any problems sticking close to me last night,” he said with a grin on his face.

She looked at him and stuck out her tongue. He looked at the transponder in her hands.

“Mrs. Chan will know what to do about that,” he said.

“Mrs. Chan?” she said.

“I help her out every now and then. She runs a food shop in the city.”

He could see Emma looking at him with a quizzical look on her face.

“Well,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “she runs more than just a food shop, but that’s not important. She'll know about the transponder.”

He stood up to relieve the pressure on his arms. He took another sip of the coffee. He could feel it permeating his body, warming him, getting him ready for the day ahead.

“The transponder unit can be disabled, I know that,” he said. “But the shackles are another thing. We will need to log in to a master unit to disable those. That’s trickier. Only SPF’s have access to them. Sorting out the transponder is the main thing. We don’t want to be losing it and blowing up, eh?”

She sat drinking her coffee. Hansen couldn’t help looking at her sitting at the bench. Her little feet were perched on the bottom of the stool and she sat up straight, her body once again more defined since she was back in her clothes. Even though her dark hair was less than properly brushed, it gave her an untamed, feisty look, but warm. He wondered how warm she would be for the right person.

My beautiful scientist.

You're not the right person.

Nor is she.

She will lead you to your doom.

Shut up.

“Once we’ve sorted the transponder, then we just have to be careful ourselves. It’s not the best that we have to stay close, as sometimes we'll be in danger, but we’ll have to make of it what we can. Carl will know who to talk to about the shackles,” he said. "We can't talk to him for a few days as he'll be hot. He'll be looking for a way to contact us and also waiting for us to contact him. But not now."

He walked around the bench towards the bed. He opened a drawer on the side table and took out a comms unit.

“First, I’ll call Mrs. Chan,” he said, “then we’ll work out what to do next. Baby steps.”

He walked back towards the kitchen bench.

“In the meantime, Irish,” he said as he was about to walk around her, “don’t go too far away.”

As he passed her, he gave her a playful tap on her bottom at the edge of her stool and a kiss on the forehead before she could react.

He rolled his eyes and laughed at her. “Oh darling," he said in an exaggerated show of romance, "I need you so close, my head’s about to explode.”

It’s all funny now, Hansen. All funny now.

Wait till it turns to tears.

 

[EklectikChik]

Emma's skin tingled where he had kissed her and she fought the urge to touch it. He was a big flirt, that was all there was to it. Although he had started out being rather nasty before he'd figured out she wasn't a rich spoiled brat slumming it. He certainly was a strange man at times, she mused to herself and giggled at his over acting.

“I just bet you do. I guess I'm a better snuggle partner than Carl.” She added lightly, grinning, “But I bet than man could put off some body heat in a pinch!”

“Carl and I go a long way, but would take a helluva lot for me to snuggle up to him.” He shot back, sending her into another fit of giggles before they died down and finished off her coffee, letting the whiskey warm her insides.

Swiveling around on the bench, she watched him curiously. “Is there anything I can do? I won't wash dirty socks, but if I can help in any other way, I would be happy to lend a hand. I've never been very good at sitting still for long. Feels like such a waste of time.”

Blowing out a breath, she moved, going to the sink to rinse out her cup. “I'll be right back...nature calls.”

Stepping away, she slipped into the bathroom to relieve herself and while she was there, washed her hands and face, rinsing her mouth out as best she could without touching his toothbrush. Patting her face and hands dry, she returned, definitely feeling more alive and alert. He was already talking to Mrs. Chan or so she assumed, so she kept quiet and let her mind wander. Her parents had to be worried sick and she hoped that Simon hadn't gotten any heat for helping her out. He had a family to think of, but he turned a blind eye, letting her escape. For the greater good, he had told her, which made her eyes tear up, stinging.

She blinked furiously and inhaled a long breath. Would she make it through all this? Would any of them?

 

[Fish_Tales]

He shot back at her comments about Carl and she laughed.

Carl could put out some heat when needed, but you don’t want to be around, Irish, when he does. People tend to die.

“Is there anything I can do? I won't wash dirty socks, but if I can help in any other way, I would be happy to lend a hand. I've never been very good at sitting still for long. Feels like such a waste of time. I'll be right back....” she said.

“Not much good then, are ya?” he called after her.

When she walked off to the bathroom, he got the comms unit and punched in Mrs. Chan’s number.

“Hello?” said the voice on the other end of the line in a cautious tone.

He had his details barred so she wouldn’t know it was him.

“Mrs. Chan. It’s Liam.”

“Ahh, Liam,” she said in an Asian accent, “Good to hear from you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“I saw the news last night,” she said. She laughed. “Have you and Carl been playing again?”

He laughed with her.

“Mrs. Chan, why would you assume it was us?”

“Ahh, when I see things blowing up and police going to hospital and the morgue, I know you gentlemen are around somewhere.”

“I’m offended,” he said.

“And they’re dead,” she said, more seriously. “How can I help you?”

“Before we got away, they shot a friend and me with electronic shackles.”

“I’m surprised,” she said.

“That I got shot?”

“That you have a friend.”

He laughed.

“Oh, Mrs. Chan, am I really that bad?”

“Worse,” she said.

“I have the transponder. We er… took it from one of the SPF’s. Can I get it disabled?”

“My son can do that,” she said, “but you know we can’t do anything about the shackles unless we can get to a master unit. You’ll need a cop for that.”

“I know, but at least disabling the transponder will mean one less thing to worry about. Is it ok if I come visit?”

“Yes,” she said, “I will be in the shop today. Thank you for helping me clean up the other day. Maybe I have another chicken for you. Put meat on those skinny bones.”

“Thank you,” he said. “If I catch those guys that did that to your shop….”

He heard Mrs. Chan laugh.

“Liam. They were just kids. You don’t need to blow them up to the moon. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” he said. “I wasn’t going to blow them up to the moon.” He paused. “I was just going to shoot them and dump them in the harbour.”

Mrs. Chan giggled. “Oh well, then….”

“I’ll be there in a few hours, ok?”

“That will be ok. In the meantime stay close to your friend.”

“I will,” he said.

“Unlucky friend,” she said, laughing.

He hung up.

He looked around the room. He heard the toilet flush. Emma was still in the bathroom.

I have to choose a gun. Maybe the Glock again....

He needed to talk to Emma about she needed to do with the disk. He assumed they had to give it to someone.

He poured himself a small shot of whiskey into his dirty coffee cup and leaned on the kitchen bench.

And waited.

 

[EklectikChik]

Pulling herself together, Emma returned, finding Liam relaxing and nursing his mug close. "Did you and Mrs. Chan have a nice talk?" She asked lightly, smiling as she moved closer, but not too close. Instead she chose to keep the counter between them, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter top.

He made a noncommittal little grunt and gave her the most serious of looks. "She makes me crave fried rice."

Caught off guard, Emma threw her head back and laughed. Not just a little giggle, but a true laugh that shook her shoulders and made her face light up. Dropping her head back down, she shook it, trying to control the little giggles that followed. "Ohmygod." She breathed, sniffing and wiping away a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "You are too much, you know that?"

Drawing in a breath, she tapped down the remaining giggles, clearing her throat. "Okay...so...back to business. I take it she will be able to help us with the transponder?"

He nodded at this and she sighed with relief. "But not the shackles?"

She shook his head no.

"I need a computer. Something that will let me access the files I need and work. We also need help. If I get the formula finished that is one thing, but we need someone to use that formula. Know what I mean?"

Digging her hands in her pockets, she stood straighter and shifted from one foot to the other. "When do we leave?"

 

[Fish_Tales]

Emma came out of the bathroom. She was smiling, but her eyes looked red.

Don’t cry, Irish. I hate crying.

She made a point of staying on the other side of the bench. He missed her being close to him. They had built up an easy familiarity very quickly.

Maybe she’s a quick learner. Everyone else who gets close to me suffers.

Dies.

He got her laughing with a joke, but then she was all business again.

"Okay...so...back to business. I take it she will be able to help us with the transponder?"

He nodded. She seemed happy with that. "But not the shackles?" He shook his head.

“Sick of being around me already, Irish?” he said. “Wait till it’s been more than one night. Then you’ll know the meaning of interminable.”

"I need a computer. Something that will let me access the files I need and work. We also need help. If I get the formula finished that is one thing, but we need someone to use that formula. Know what I mean?"

He nodded.

A lot of requests.

"When do we leave?"

He just looked at her for a few seconds without saying a word. She was shifting from one foot to the other.

“Any more requests?” he said. It was a little difficult for him to sit there and take orders from someone he’d just met. Shit, it was difficult for him to take orders from anybody.

Admit it, Hansen. Especially a girl.

A girl, for God’s sake. You don’t need the hassle. Let her go. Bye bye. Ta ta. See you later. Sayonara. Arriverderci….

You done? Are you out of languages? She stays.

But….

She stays.

He kept staring at her for a few moments. Then he walked to the end of the kitchen bench. He opened a door underneath it and pulled out a small box, a big box and and even bigger box. He put them all on the counter and then he went around her silently to a small door in the wall just inside the entrance. He pressed his finger to a small pressure pad and the door flipped open. He pulled out a wicked looking knife with a sharp edge on one side and a serrated edge on the other and another box.

He went back to the bench and left those items on there. He walked to the bedside dresser and opened the drawer. It was the Glock from last night. He walked back looking at her and dropped that on the bench as well.

“Cat got your tongue, Irish?”

He didn’t like orders. He knew he should cool it….

….but I don’t like orders.

He he he. Told you.

“Shut the fuck up,” he shouted.

She jumped.

“Not you,” he said at her loudly, though not in a friendly way.

She just looked at the bench top. He opened the small box and took out three rectangular magazines. He picked up the Glock and ejected the magazine from it. Then he inserted the full magazine into it and set it on the table with the two spare magazines next to it. He opened the large box. He was focused on his work. His eyes were cold.

He put his hand into the large box and pulled out another gun.

“This is a Browning Hi-Power nine millimetre.” He dropped the magazine out, held it up to her. “Thirteen shots. If you don’t have enough firepower with this, then you were fucked before you started.” He pushed the magazine back into the butt of the gun and slammed it on the bench loudly.

He opened one final box.

“Plastic bombs,” he said. He held one up to her. They were similar to the one he’d used last night. He took three out of the box and laid them on the table. Then he meticulously put all the boxes back where he'd found them. He relocked the cabinet at the entrance.

He went to the cupboard next to the bed. He took out a holster and put it on over his shoulder. Then he grabbed a jacket from the same cupboard and put it on, zipping only the bottom third of it.

He walked back to the bench, still staring at her, his eyes cold, his movements economical and methodical.

He picked up the Browning and put it in the shoulder holster. With the jacket on, she couldn’t even tell that he had a gun. He picked up the Glock and shoved it in the front of his pants. He picked up the knife and slid it into the back of his pants. He swept the bombs from the bench one at a time and put them into different pockets of his jacket.

He was a walking, talking, one man army. Looking at him, it was impossible to discern he was armed at all, let alone loaded with enough ammunition to take on a small country.

“You want to get some shoes on, Irish?” he said gruffly. “Then we’ll fucking go.”

She’s making you angry.

You’re making me angry.

He he he.

 

[EklectikChik]

“Any more requests?”

She'd been too busy thinking of what was needed to see his face change, his body stiffen...the way his jaw clenched and the laughter died from his eyes. When she did, it was too late. It was like staring at a different man.

Dumbfounded by his arsenal, she watched him move around his place, pulling all sorts of things out that she had no experience with. His sudden outburst made her flinch and her eyes widened. His didn't even meet her own. This was the second time he'd done that and her mind began to worry how stable her protector was. That familiar feeling of anxiety began to crawl up her spine, stiffening up her shoulders and making her weary. All those weapons were making her nervous, as well as his behavior.

Watching him arm his body, she moistened her lips and frowned as he spoke again, his voice cold, gruff and well...pissy.


“You want to get some shoes on, Irish? Then we’ll fucking go.”

Her jaw clenched in sudden anger. What the fuck was his problem? She hadn't made unreasonable requests. Hadn't even demanded anything. Moving past him she sat her bottom down and began jerking on her shoes, lacing them up and then grabbed her own jacket, pulling it back on.

"Ready when you are." She muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. Her eyes bypassed his cold stare, Nope, not going to look at your moody butt, she told herself, hoping that Mrs. Chan had better people skills.

For a long moment there was silence and Emma felt increasingly irritated and nervous, but stood her ground. Oooh no. She wasn't going to say she was sorry not doing anything worth this attitude. Nope...no way. He had no reason to have his panties in a wad and she wasn't going to stroke his ego. Not without an explanation from him as to what she did. Ha! What a relationship this was turning out to be. She inwardly laughed at that. Just like the real thing without sex.

 

[Fish_Tales]

"Ready when you are,” she muttered.

Hansen felt the anger start to leave him a little. He didn’t like orders. He’d followed them once and….

He didn’t like orders.

It’ll be better like this. Keep it cool. Keep it professional.

You can’t have emotion and protect the package.

The Package?

Now she’s just a job?

Better.

Emma was standing there with her hands in her pockets.

“Sorry, Irish, it’s not that I want a look at you, but you need to get your top off. They’ll know what you were wearing last night,” he said. “The cap has to go too. Just leave your hair as it is. They didn’t get a look at that last night.”

Yeah, right. If they want her, they’ll know what she fucking looks like anyway.

Well, it makes it look like at least I know what I’m doing.

He walked over to the clothes cupboard again. He felt calm. In control. The feel and weight of the weapons on his body was a familiar and comforting feeling.

He pulled a t shirt out. This one would fit her. It was one of Bonnie O’Reilly’s. He had other clothes too, but jeans were jeans. He hadn’t given her one of those shirts last night because he wanted a stash of original clothes that they could change every day and he only had three of Bonnie’s shirts there. Might as well make an effort of disguise….

He threw her the t shirt. “You can get changed in the bathroom if you’re modesty prevents it here.” He turned around to give her some privacy and sat with his butt against the kitchen bench.

When it boiled down to it, he was going to help her. Were his motives pure? Was he altruistic? He certainly had his reasons for fighting the Global Energy, Health and Food Management Council, but it wasn’t all about altruism. He wanted revenge. If he could knock the eyes out of the fuckers while helping the woman, then all good and well. The bottom line was he wouldn’t be happy till he could kill everyone involved in his family’s deaths and destroy the whole thing.

Even if it killed him.

Especially if it killed him.

What else was there to live for?

Emma came out of the bathroom. She stood there with there with her hands in her pockets. Her long dark hair was a little mussed up without the cap, but she still looked good. Bonnie’s clothes fit her perfectly.

If Bonnie’s clothes fit you perfectly, then you are indeed a fine woman.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind.

Be professional.

At what?

Killing.

Killing is your business.

And business is about to get busy.

“Right,” he said, “Get whatever you need. Bring the disk. We’ll need it. We’re going to the movies later, Irish. I hope you like movies. Don’t say I don’t take you anywhere. And….”

“And what?” she said, cutting him off a little defiantly. She obviously didn’t like the new Hansen.

“Stay close or we’ll lose our heads.”

He tried to say it with a little lightness, but he was fighting with himself. He wanted to stay cool. Stay in control.

Don’t fall for The Package.

The Package?

Hansen.

You’re back.

******

They came out of the abandoned shell of the building and onto the street. It was odd being with her on the street in daylight. He’d only been with her under lights or in the darkness of night. He explained things to her while they walked.

Not hand in hand this time.

“We’ll go see Mrs. Chan. Her son will disable the transponder. Then we’ll go see another person I know. He’ll get us a computer. A clean one. I’m not sure if you’ll have access to outside comms. If he can ensure that our machine is untraceable, then I guess you can use it. If not, you’re work will have to be offline and we'll work out how to excahnge data with your friends.”

He kept walking as he talked. There were not many people on the streets. The air was still humid from last night, but the sky was clear. It was sunny. It should have been a pleasant day, but they had no time for frivolity.

Emma walked beside him, nodding occasionally or mumbling. He didn’t really listen to her except to make sure she understood what he was talking about.

“As for a scientist to help you, I have no idea,” he said. “As you can tell, I don’t really have any cause for contact with them. Bonnie or Carl may know of someone. What about your boyfriend that helped you get the disk? Would he help?”

He smirked and looked sideways at her, struggling to keep up with his fast walking. She didn't complain though, just kept walking and keeping up. She hadn’t said it was her boyfriend and he didn’t think it was. He just wanted to needle her, show her she meant nothing to him besides someone to help.

The Package.

He kept walking. They turned left into a large street. He hadn’t seen one SPF yet, but that meant nothing. There was no point wearing a disguise for him. He just kept out of their way, or ran. That had been the way for years.

They weren’t far from Mrs. Chan’s now. He pulled out the comms unit and pressed a button. A text message went to her phone.

There in 5. Black. No sugar.

 

[EklectikChik]

Emma felt her own irritation flag as she changed. This was stressful for both of them and she was becoming increasingly sure that Liam had his own demons and agenda in this. Otherwise he would have gotten rid of her a hell of a lot sooner. Not playing Mr. Nice Guy. No feeding her, getting her warm and not even making a real move to get in her pants. Not that he would want to, she chided herself. It wasn't as though she was anything special and certainly wasn't gunning to get laid!

Swiftly she changed and returned to him, still a little rumpled. In the back of her mind she wondered who's shirt this was. It obviously was female or wouldn't have fit her so nicely, but she get her mouth shut. If he wanted to tell her, he would, she told herself. But it was hard not to ask. Her curiosity was maddening in that instance. She wanted to know what was going on in his mind.

Biting her tongue, she did as she was told and grabbed the disk, lifting her shirt enough to slid am arm inside and bury the disk safely in the confines of her bra once more. Then they were off and once again, she had to hustle her steps to keep up with his longer strides. It made it difficult to hold a conversation, but she listened on carefully as he informed her of the plans and what to expect.

“As for a scientist to help you, I have no idea,” he said. “As you can tell, I don’t really have any cause for contact with them. Bonnie or Carl may know of someone. What about your boyfriend that helped you get the disk? Would he help?”

She missed his smirk, concentrating on his foot steps instead and periodically glancing around. What struck her as odd was how pretty it was out compared to the day before and how she's never truly noticed the weather much anymore...or daylight. She was in to work before the sun was up and back when it went down. Coffee and sugar were her best friends and she was rather surprised that she hadn't turned into a blimp.

“Simon would help...but I won't let him. He has a family, a wife and a kid. I don't want to endanger them. To be honest, I've been worried that he got in trouble just for turning a blind eye. He knew my plan and confronted me, but didn't stop me. I don't want to even think of the consequences.”

She shuddered and hugged her middle, the mere thought making her queasy to say the least. She watched him pull out the comms unit, guessing that they had to be close and inwardly sighed. One less worry to think about!

 

[Fish_Tales]

He kept pressing on and they crossed the street. He walked up to a modest shopfront with a mix of English and Chinese writing. He stopped at the doorway to listen to Emma.

“Simon would help...but I won't let him. He has a family, a wife and a kid. I don't want to endanger them. To be honest, I've been worried that he got in trouble just for turning a blind eye. He knew my plan and confronted me, but didn't stop me. I don't want to even think of the consequences.”

I had a family, a wife and a kid. I know what the consequences are.

“Ok, so maybe we leave him alone for a while,” he said. “We’ll see what we get today.”

He pushed the door of the shop and an electronic buzzer went off. He stood in the doorway and held it open for Emma to come through. They walked into the shop.

He always enjoyed visiting Mrs. Chan at her shop. The exotic smells made his mouth water. She had every conceivable oriental ingredient for sale and many that weren’t. You could get anything you wanted here. Anything.

They got about five metres into the shop when a small, frail looking oriental woman in a one piece coat and a small hat came out from the back. She shrieked.

“Liam, I have not seen you for a very long time!” she said. She walked up to him and wrapped her small arms around him and gave him a vigorous hug.

Hansen smiled as he held her. She looked like a doll in his arms. He bent his head down and gave her a long kiss on the forehead. She let him go and stepped back.

“Mrs. Chan, it’s always a pleasure. And it's only been two weeks for God's sake”

“Ah, Liam, quit with the Mrs. Chan, I’m not that much older than you.”

She had a very slight Chinese accent, but spoke English perfectly.

“Veracity has never been your strong point, so unfortunately, Mrs. Chan it is.”

She chuckled and looked at Emma. “It’s true,” she said, “Liam is younger than my three Chinese sons. He is my fourth son.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Chan,” he said. He stepped out from between them and put his arm around Emma.

“This is Emma. She’s the person I was telling you about that’s electronically shackled to me.”

She nodded approvingly at Emma.

“There are worse persons I could think of to be shackled to,” she said with a smile and nodding towards Hansen.

Liam rolled his eyes and looked at Emma. He was already in a better mood just talking to Mrs. Chan. “Mrs. Chan thinks I’m a great catch for a woman, but that I make too much of an effort not to get caught.” He turned back to Mrs. Chan. “Emma is a scientist and very intelligent. She could do better than me, Mrs. Chan.”

Mrs. Chan hit him on the arm and laughed. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “Now come out the back. I have the coffee. While we drink and talk, my son will disable the transponder.”

They followed the small woman to the back of the shop and went through a curtained doorway. There was a small kitchenette with a table and chairs. Hansen could smell the coffee. He and Emma sat down while Mrs. Chan busied herself organising some cups and then she brought those and the percolator over to the table.

Hansen avoided Emma’s eyes. He had been short with her today, but she had to realise that once they got into the full swing of this, it would get even worse.

Protect The Package.

It’s Emma.

The Package. Then you both might live.

Before she sat down, Mrs. Chan went to a door at the rear of the kitchen and yelled something in Chinese. In moments, a tall thin man came to the entrance.

He nodded at Hansen. Hansen took the transponder and threw it to him.

“Ten minutes, Liam,” was all he said.

Hansen nodded again and sat back in his chair. Mrs. Chan poured him a coffee and passed it to him. She did the same for Emma and then sat back.

She saw Emma’s inquisitive look. “I don’t drink coffee. I have enough energy as it is,” said the oriental woman, smiling.

Hansen sipped on his coffee.

“Very quiet,” said Mrs. Chan, looking at him with a frown, “so you force me to ask what is going on. It’s like pulling teeth with you.” She looked across at Emma. “Sometimes he says a lot. Sometimes he says nothing. Sometimes he’s happy. Sometimes he’s sad. Liam is like the weather. You never know.”

Emma looked at her and said, “I do know.”

Hansen cringed.

“Ok, I can see I’m surrounded here,” he said. He proceeded to tell Mrs. Chan the whole story. He didn’t know what Emma was thinking, but she probably thought what the fuck he was doing telling this oriental woman. When he needed clarification, he would look at Emma to provide extra details or confirmation that what he was saying was correct.

She sat there with her hands clasped on the table. She didn’t move except to pour them more coffee and the rest of the time she listened intently and asked some specific questions.

When he’d finished, Mrs. Chan said, “Looks like an impossible situation.” She paused for a few moments and then smiled. “Your favourite type.”

“I guess,” he said.

“You know you have very little chance here, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You know you and her,” she looked at Emma, “will probably die?”

“I do.”

“But you will do it, won’t you?” she said.

“I will,” said Hansen.

“Because you are Liam Hansen.”

“I am who I am,” he said. “I can’t change that.”

The tall thin man popped his head into the room.

“It’s done,” he said. “You can forget about the transponder. You need to get to a master unit to disable the shackles. I can’t help you with that.”

“Thanks,” said Liam.

“Never a problem for you, sir,” he said and then disappeared just as quickly as he’d appeared.

Mrs. Chan looked at Emma, a hard look on her face. The twinkle in her eyes was gone as was the lightness and humor in her voice. “I know you have been worried about what Liam has been telling me. When I say that Liam is my fourth son, I mean it.”

She raised one of her tiny hands and put it over Hansen’s.

“Many years ago, my husband had a problem. It was a very bad problem. All of his friends could not help him or would not help him. Liam was an acquaintance of my husband. He helped him when it looked impossible. He…. saved him when no one else would. We owe him everything.”

Hansen shook his head. "That's not true."

She put her other hand up so that her finger covered her lips and Hansen stopped talking. She paused for a further moment as if recounting the story pained her.

“I do not know you. If Liam brings you here and needs help, then I will help you because you are with Liam. My sons will help you. Nothing is too much to ask. Even our lives.”

Her hand squeezed Hansen’s tighter.

“You are lucky to have him. If he cannot save you, then God himself would have failed.”

She stopped and looked at Liam. “I love you, son,” she said.

He nodded at her.

I love you, too.

But he couldn’t say it.

Mrs. Chan took her hand back and clapped lightly. Her old demeanour was back. “This sounds like fun. So what more can we do to help?”

“I need a clean computer,” he said. “I know it might take a few days. It needs to have untraceable comms if that is possible. We can get around it if it hasn’t but it would be nice.”

She looked at him and scoffed. “Oh, Liam, I thought you were going to give me something hard to do. I knew you didn’t need guns – my God, you have enough weapons on you to start a small war.”

She smiled. She was good at identifying weapons on people. In fact, she was just about the best he knew. Of course, she did have the advantage of hugging him before, but it was still impressive.

He smiled.

They both looked at Emma.

“If we start this, it finishes one way or the other,” he said. “But it must finish. Do you want to start this?”

I hope she says no.

Shut up.

Well I'm allowed to have an opinion, aren't I?

 

[EklectikChik]

Emma instantly loved Mrs. Chan. She was a feisty little thing, but love shone in her eyes as she gazed at Liam. It made her throat tighten as she watched them hug and then the old lady recounted why she admired and loved Liam so much. She fought the tears, keeping them at bay as she sipped on the strong coffee and listened. She was lucky, she realized and not for the first time. Somehow, she knew that this man would pull them through. Even if it meant certain death, in the end, it would be okay. But she hoped for a long life for both of them. She wanted to be old and feisty like Mrs. Chan some day, driving her children crazy.

Now their eyes were focused on her. “If we start this, it finishes one way or the other,” he said. “But it must finish. Do you want to start this?”

What choice did she have?? If she didn't start this, this virus...disease...would spread like wild fire. Leaning back in her chair, Emma rubbed her suddenly damp hands against the sturdy material of her jeans. “I see no other choice.” She finally said, looking determined, if not so sure. “I couldn't live with the thought that I have unwittingly created something so evil. Even if that was not my goal. I let myself be used and I won't do that again. I've got to get this formula finished and bring them down.”

Driving her fingers into her thick hair, she sighed and propped her elbows onto the small table, holding her head in her hands. “It makes me sick just thinking about it. I wish I had forgotten to lock up or left the stove on one day, but instead I was blind and naïve...this mistake will effect millions. I can't let that happen. So many innocent....”

Her voice trailed off, her throat tightening.

“There there...” Mrs. Chan soothed softly and caught one slender arm, pulling her hand down with a smile. “We will get you fixed up. I have all the faith in the world that if anyone can handle this job, it's Liam. With a you by his side, you will make a difference. The only thing we don't know for sure is how big of a difference.”

Emma wasn't sure if that was much reassurance, but smiled and nodded slightly.

“NOW! Before I find you this clean computer that you speak off, you need sugar.” The older lady grinned and stood, shuffling away and upon returning dropped a big box of sugary delights in front of Emma's nose. “Everything is made better with sweets. And you need a little more meat on your bones. Tisk tisk Liam. I'm sending you home with an extra chicken.”

Emma laughed and sighed, “Will you adopt me too Mrs. Chan?” She teased and poked Liam in the side before picking up a decadent pastry and taking a large bite with a moan of pure satisfaction.

Mrs. Chan let out a rough, almost cackle of a laugh. “I like this girl. You will keep her close.”

“Do I have a choice?” He replied, earning him another glare and poke.

“Hey!” She mumbled behind her pastry, “That's not nice. I'm excellent company.”

“Well you two eat up. I'll be back.”

“Mmmmph!” Emma gave her a wave, chewing happily on her food while Liam shot her a look. She raised her brows innocently and swallowed. “I like Mrs. Chan.” Licking her fingers, she sipped on her coffee and sighed again, feeling tons better already. Her eyes held hers before she slid her hand over and caught his own with a soft smile. “Thank you. For bringing me here, for helping, for everything.”

 

[Fish_Tales]

“I see no other choice,” she said.

There. It was done. She wanted to finish the work she had started. Not only would that mean they couldn’t just disappear, it would put them directly in the firing line of what passed for a government.

You’re gonna regret this….

Why don’t you just shut the fuck up?

Suicide.

He felt Emma’s hand slide over his. It felt soft and warm. She was smiling at him.

“I like Mrs. Chan. Thank you. For bringing me here, for helping, for everything.”

He didn’t know what to say. He was not one for emotions. Jessica had always said that….

Yeah. You think about Jessica. It’s all going to happen again. You’re falling for her, aren’t you?

I am not.

You are.

Fuck off.

It’s all going to end in tragedy. I’m telling you.

He shook his head and he was back in Mrs. Chan’s kitchenette. Emma still had her hand on his and it stirred emotions in him. Not only emotions if he was honest. He could feel his jeans becoming a little tight. He coughed and shifted his position discretely to give himself some more room down there.

Mrs. Chan came back into the room.

“I’ll be able to get a computer, but….”

“But what?” interrupted Hansen.

Mrs. Chan looked at him a little annoyed.

“Well, you don’t talk, then you talk. I apologise for talking while you were rudely interrupting….”

He smiled wanly at her.

“Sorry.”

“That’s better. What I was saying,” she said shooting him a look of admonition with a wink, “was that I can get the computer, but we need to make sure the comms are secure and untraceable. I should have it in a couple of days. I will get one of the boys to deliver it.”

Hansen nodded. “Thanks.”

“Do you want me to look after the CD?” she asked.

Hansen looked at Emma and then shook his head. “No. I don’t want you getting into trouble over this and I don’t want to involve you in this.”

Mrs. Chan shot him a look and a sly grin slowly broke out onto her face.

“Oh, I am involved in this,” she said. “If you fuck with my family, you fuck with me.”

**********

Emma and Hansen left the shop and walked around the corner. Mrs. Chan had filled a big bag with groceries and insisted they take it.

"Won't hurt our disguise at least," said Hansen, knowing full well that they weren't even disguised to begin with.

“What do we do now?” said Emma.

He looked across at her. He was feeling a little more relaxed now. He didn’t like the way she’d asked for so much back at his place, but he understood where she was coming from. She didn’t have experience in these situations. She would have to understand that when it came to this sort of problem, then he had the answers. She might be smart, but he was trained in this.

To survive.

To kill.

Baby steps were needed. One thing at a time. If they got too far ahead of themselves, they would miss a detail and disaster, or worse, would be the result.

“Didn’t I say I was taking you on a date?” he said. “I think we should go to the movies. Do you like the movies?”

He started to walk down the street and didn’t even look back to see if she was following him. When he got to the next intersection, he turned back to her and said, “If you’re a really good girl, we can sit up the back where it’s dark. There’s a waiting list of broken hearts waiting for me there.”

He laughed and started to cross the street.

Yeah right.

 

[EklectikChik]

Emma had not choice but to follow him. What surprised her is how he could be thinking about movies when they were trying to stay alive. Still, she found herself grinning as she took off after him. “Hey wait up! You run off on me and one or both of us go boom. Now I don't have much experience with relationships, but not sure that would be the explosive kind that I'd want to be a part of!”

Hurrying to keep up with his strides, she patted her hair, tucking it behind her ears as her braid began to unravel. “I've been meaning to ask if you have a brush.”

She could practically hear him grumbling on the inside, but bumped his hip as they moved down the street and further into town. Her hands slipped back into his as she spotted the theater. “It has been years since I've seen a movie. Seems a little strange that now I have no job and running for my life that I would stop to enjoy one.”

While it was a bit of a depressing thought, she was still smiling, her face bright and cheery. The flush of her cheeks brought out the sparkle in her eyes. “So are you treating me to popcorn too? If you do, I might let you cop a feel in the dark.” She teased and giggled at her own little joke.

 

[Fish_Tales]

“I've been meaning to ask if you have a brush?” he heard her ask from behind him. He pretended that he didn’t hear that.

A brush, Hansen. Did you hear that? You’re about to go to war and she’s worried about her hair. Hehehe.

For Christ’s sake, fuck off will you?

I can’t. I am you.

Emma bumped into him when he stopped near the theatre. Her hand slipped easily into his. He nearly shook it off, but he decided it felt good and left it there. He rationalised it would be better to look after her if they were close to each other and you couldn’t get much closer than holding hands.

How cute.

He felt like his head was going to explode. He needed drugs, but he couldn’t tell her that. If the voices didn’t stop soon, though, he would do something. Something bad. That wouldn’t help anything.

“It has been years since I've seen a movie. Seems a little strange that now I have no job and running for my life that I would stop to enjoy one.”

Her voice, as always, brought him back to reality. He smiled. She thought she was really going to see a movie. He was fine with that.

“Yeah,” was all he said. “It might help you relax.”

He gripped her hand tighter and they walked towards the theatre entrance. He kept a close lookout on the street for SPF’s, but they had been surprisingly thin on the ground today. There must be a reason. They usually maintained a discrete, but constant, presence.

“So are you treating me to popcorn too? If you do, I might let you cop a feel in the dark.”

She was giggling at her jokes. That was a good sign. She would stay relaxed as long as she was with him.

“Yeah, that might help you relax too,” he said. “But I’ve already copped a feel of you during the night. If you really want to relax, surely you can give me more than that?

He could play this game….

He stopped at the front doors of the cinema. There were a few customers in the line and not many more waiting in the foyer. It was still too early for movie goers. He turned to her and leaned towards her, his mouth brushing her ear.

Hey, that felt good.

“When we go up to the ticket counter and they ask to swipe our cards, don’t do anything. I’ll pull out an old paper card that looks like a standard money card. No one will know. The guy behind the counter will then give us two tickets. Ok?”

He pulled his head back a little from her ear to look at her face. She nodded. He returned his mouth to her ear.

“Good. Then we’ll just sit here in the foyer for a few minutes and someone will come out and announce a movie that’s not on here. We’ll follow him. Ok? Now wrap your arm around me like we actually get on and we’ll walk to the counter. This place will be loaded with cameras. We can be sure there’ll be no facial recognition software with a direct feed back to the SRP, but it doesn’t mean they might not be monitoring the live cameras. It would be a fluke, but it does happen,” he said. “Now, Irish, pretend like you like me.”

He turned her face, put one hand on the back of her head and gave her a firm kiss on her lips for a few seconds. He pulled his head back and winked.

“All for the part, Irish,” he said, “all for the part.”

Yeah right, fuckhead.

Oh, you’re sulking.

Don’t like to see me have some fun?

 

[EklectikChik]

She was nodding as she listened to him intently, feeling that familiar tingle race down her spine as his lip brushed against her, his breath warm. She wanted to tilt her head to the side and expose the slender milky white column of her neck to him. Wanted to feel the brush of his warm lips against her bare skin and mentally shook herself again.

Just follow directions, she was good at that. Listen to his words and put them into action. She could do that. No problem. Sliding her arm around his waist as she had done after their first meeting, she leaned in, prepared to make it look good. But his hard kiss had stunned her a moment. She blinked at him as he winked and drew away. Damn him! All for the part, her ass!

Moistening her lips, she shrugged slightly and let her body bump close to his, her arm around his waist, his around hers. She hooked her fingers around a belt loop and held on as he pulled her in. They went through the motions as she pretended to be the doe eyed smitten girlfriend.

“You know, I'm a little disappoint, Liam. You had me going there for a minute. I was sure you were bringing me to see a real movie, as crazy as it seemed.” Turning slightly, she gazed up him, not in the least upset, but more curious. “What kind of adventure are you taking me on now, hmm?”

Unable to help herself and for a little payback, she toyed with the short hairs at the nape of his neck and nuzzled his neck, teasing his earlobe with her lips as she spoke. “All for the part, Liam, all for the part.” She teased softly.

 

[Fish_Tales]

Emma certainly followed his instructions to the letter. She held her arm around him and pressed in close to him. She felt warm and soft against him and he found that he didn’t mind it at all.

Sucker.

He rolled his eyes at the voice.

I really need those drugs.

You really think it’ll be that easy to get rid of me, Hansen?

Fuck off.

Emma spoke again. She was good at getting rid of the voices in his head. He thought it might be sign. Jess had kept the voices at bay….

She’s dead.

“You know, I'm a little disappointed, Liam. You had me going there for a minute. I was sure you were bringing me to see a real movie, as crazy as it seemed. What kind of adventure are you taking me on now, hmm?”

“We’re are going to see something, but I doubt we’ll have time to take in a movie.”

She rubbed the back of his neck and nuzzled into him with her face. Then she lifted her head slightly and her lips toyed with his ear lobe. It felt good, but….

“Hey, I’m older than you,” he whispered. “Show some respect, Irish. Crikey, next you’ll be trying to get my pants off right here!”

“All for the part, Liam, all for the part,” she teased softly.

He looked down at her and couldn’t help smiling.

“I guess I deserved that,” he said. “Not that it was unpleasant at all. Now let’s get to the counter, we can’t just stand around here canoodling.” He gave her a light tap on the butt and looked at her with a cheeky grin before walking towards the counter.

The guy at the counter was young. He had sandy hair and pimples. “Liam,” he said and nodded.

“Paul.”

“I thought you two were going to stand in my foyer all afternoon,” he said, looking pointedly at Emma. “I was about to book you a room next door.”

Hansen laughed. “Sorry, the lady here gets understandably frisky any time she’s close to me.”

“Understandably?”

“Watch it, Paul, I can kick your ass any time I like.”

“That you can, Liam,” he grinned. “Understandable it is. I guess you’re looking for some tickets to a movie.”

“Sure am. You know, new girlfriend and all.”

Paul looked at them.

“How many new girlfriends can one man have?” he said.

Hansen coughed.

“That ass kicking may not be far off….”

“Ok, give me your card.”

Hansen dug into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a credit card, except it was made of cardboard.

“You don’t need the special card here, Liam.”

“You can never be too careful, Paul. Remember that,” he said. “Never.”

Paul nodded, swiped the card and gave it back to Hansen. He waited for a couple of plastic tokens to be printed and then passed them to Hansen.

“I hope you enjoy the movie, sir,” he said.

“Thank you. We will.”

Paul looked over at Emma. “That’s if she can keep her hands off you.”

Liam laughed. “It’ll be hard, that’s for sure, Paulie, but hopefully she can manage it.”

They took their tokens and went to sit on a couch in the foyer. Hansen held Emma close as they sat. He looked at her face and knew what she was thinking.

“Now we wait,” he said and rested his head back against the couch, with his arm around her.

 

[EklectikChik]

Emma wanted to know what he was up to. The suspense was killing her, but she dared not ask him. At least not yet. She would see soon enough, why not enjoy a moment of relaxation. Truth be known she was still tired, although the sugary treats and coffee had definitely helped.

Liam lay his head against the couch, his body seemingly relaxed, but something told her he was wide open and alert. Not much got passed Liam. Snuggling closer, she let her gaze shift around the place. Absently her fingers moved through his hair, gently running through his short cropped do, light and teasing.

After a while, Emma shifted and pressed her cheek to his upper shoulder chest, sighing dramatically. "If we stay here much longer, I'm going to fall asleep." She mumbled, her gaze drifting and connecting with the young guy named Paul. He shot her a grin and shook his head, apparently chuckling to himself. She ordinarily would be annoyed, buts he didn't really care. It felt good being close to him. His warmth, his scent, the strength of his hard body made her feel safe...and strangely tingly. She decided to ignore the tingly.

Glancing back at Paul, she found him gone and the window closed and shaded. Just as quickly, he appeared in the hallway, wearing a bright red vest and glasses. A man of many trades? She doubted it. "Ladies and...erm...gents. Your special early morning showing of Casablanca is this way."

"Holy shit," She mumbled, "That's an old one."