Arc Two of Extinction (Chapter Twenty-Five: Save Yourself (PART I of the Finale))

Looking forward to it

Chapter Fourteen: M.A.D.

Mayfield Law Firm, New York

Groggily Kent prised his eyelids open. He felt like he had the hangover of the century, not from personal experience: one look at his and Hetty’s excuse for a father on a Saturday morning was enough for Kent to know how one felt. He had vowed never to touch a drop of alcohol after that drunk’s destructive impact on their lives.
Hetty was the first to notice his awakening. As fast as anything, she jumped from her seat and landed heavily on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. He heard her whispering over and over again in his ear: ‘I thought I’d lost you. I don’t know what I’d do without you...’
Kent was so caught up in the embrace, so eager to reassure his sister, that he barely noticed the dull but intense pain in his chest. But when his sister finally released him, it leapt to forefront of his senses, and he winced harshly as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position.
‘Don’t over-exert yourself,’ said a tired but authoritative voice. ‘You’ll only pass out again.’
Kent recognised Agent Sanchez, slowly uncurling herself from the floor. She looked worse than he felt, drooping eyelids threatening to overshadow the already dark rings under her eyes. Evidently she had spent the good part of the night wide awake, already exhausted after the failed mission at Harnex. A failure which he had managed to make ten times worse.
Before he could let her know how sorry he was, Hetty quickly cut across him: ‘Chloe saved your life.’ She punched her brother’s arm playfully, ‘So you better be grateful!’
‘I... I am,’ Kent stammered ungracefully. ‘Thank you...Chloe.’
The healer accepted his thanks with a modest smile. Fortunately the awkward moment was quickly disrupted by Monica and Hex entering the office, mid-conversation.
‘...we can’t just assume it was her,’ Hex was arguing adamantly. ‘There’s any number of groups out there who wanted the work in that lab to stop. I include us in that,’ the Colombian added smartly.
Monica looked as if about to retort, but she stopped herself when she noticed the three pairs of tired eyes fixed upon her. She seemed to reconsider and somehow, with a single piercing look, made it perfectly clear to Hex that there was nothing more to discuss.
‘Oh good, you’re awake,’ she said impassively, noting Kent’s recovery. ‘We have a few questions-’
‘Hang on!’ Hetty said hotly. ‘He was just attacked by...by God knows what. He nearly died, and you want to interrogate him?! I can’t believe-’
‘Hetty, wait,’ It was Kent’s turn to interrupt. ‘It’s fine. I totally fucked up their operation, the least I can do is answer some questions.’
Hetty didn’t look happy and was about to protest further, but Monica quickly seized the opportunity to speak once more. ‘Good, now that’s settled.’ She didn’t waste any time. ‘Who did this to you, Kent?’
‘There were three of them,’ Kent appeared as if struggling to stay conscious. ‘The one that did this to me- tall son of a bitch- hit me with some sort of...black energy.’
‘Becker...’ Chloe muttered, barely audible. She looked anxious, torn between her concern for her patient and getting closer to the truth.
Monica ignored her. ‘And the others?’
‘A girl- she looked young- and another woman... She was in charge,’ Kent spluttered. ‘I think she...’ He coughed violently. ‘I think-’
‘Enough!’ Hetty burst out. ‘He can barely speak, for fuck’s sake!’
‘Alright,’ Monica conceded. ‘Just one more question...’ She opened a file on her laptop and spun it around for Kent to see. ‘Was this her? Was this the woman who took Lindet?’
The screen showed an image of a woman in her mid-twenties with an attractive smile and a fixating stare. The caption below read: “Mary Johnson: contract terminated.” Kent nodded without hesitation.
‘Who is she?’ Hetty asked for him.
‘An ex-employee,’ Monica gave Hex a satisfied smile. He looked away, having clearly just lost their earlier dispute. ‘Did they give any indication of where they were taking the doctor?’ She clearly didn’t expect any answer except the one Kent gave.
Kent shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry. I’ve jeopardised everything. We should never have come here...’ He burst into another fit of coughing, batting away a fretful Hetty.
Monica laughed, ‘Right now, Henry Lindet is the least of our problems.’ Everyone was aware that her laughter was no cause for celebration. ‘Do any of you watch the news?’
She tapped the screen once more and an image of a different woman filled it. This time it was an artist’s digital impression of a face they had all seen before. The words floating above Sarah Winters’ apathetic features read: “Crazed NEO Gunwoman still eludes capture after failed assassination attempt on Second Minister.”
‘It looks like someone finally decided to stop being invisible,’ said Monica grimly.

Another right hook. Mary was relentless. Lindet felt blood pouring from his nose, tasting iron in his mouth as he gasped for air between blows. He hardly had time for a lungful before Mary’s fist smacked his jaw once more.
It came as little surprise to the doctor that the questions were few and far between. Mary was most likely all too aware that he didn’t have the answers they sought. She was just relishing this opportunity to wreak some petty revenge upon him. She had waited long enough for it.
After what felt like hours of the ruthless beating, the woman let up. Crouching before him, she began to massage her knuckles, giving him an ironic smile. Needless to say, Lindet got the joke. With the power he had given her, her fists would never tire. Perhaps she simply thought he had suffered enough. Somehow, he doubted it. Either way, he savoured the brief respite.
‘Enjoying yourself?’ Mary chuckled sadistically. ‘It’s been too long since my last interrogation. Some of my best memories of her majesty’s secret service are interrogations. Almost makes me miss it.’
‘You’re mad,’ Lindet stammered. ‘You are completely insane...’
Letting out a short shrill laugh, Mary fixed him with a dangerous eye. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she sighed. ‘But if I am, it’s only because of what you did to me.’
‘You need to stop blaming me for your mistakes!’ Lindet suddenly burst out in anger. ‘You came to me. You threw your life away. There’s only one person you can blame, and that’s you!’
Mary’s face went rigid. Any sympathy, pity or mercy that remained had vanished in an instant. Before him stood a true monster. She towered over him, rage-filled eyes the only indicator that any emotion penetrated her ice-cold demeanour.

The footsteps sharply cut into the eerie silence of the mansion. Greenfinch strode with a purpose, she finally felt like things were going her way. All the pieces were falling into place. There was only a single one missing and she was well on her way to finding it. After that, nothing could stand in her way.
She pushed back the ecstasy building inside her. As brightly as her future shone, she couldn’t afford to lose sight of the task at present.
Reaching the top of the staircase, she turned briskly to her left, only to be stopped dead by Amanda. The other woman did not look happy. Her eyes brimmed with accusation, cutting like daggers through the shadowy protection of Greenfinch’s hood.
‘Should I even bother asking where you’ve been for the past few days?’
‘Just taking care of a few things,’ Greenfinch replied after a moment’s consideration.
‘...didn’t think so,’ Amanda rolled her eyes. ‘I couldn’t help but notice that Preston is still alive. Looks like little nightmare girl couldn’t cut it after all-’
‘It makes no difference,’ said Greenfinch evenly.
Amanda stared at her in disbelief. ‘No difference? I told you we should send someone we can trust, someone who we know will get the job done! We do it your way, and look what happens.’
‘Alive or dead, Preston was never a threat.’
‘Oh really? Then why don’t you tell me exactly what he is?’ Amanda demanded furiously.
Under her hood, the woman seemed to be giving this question some serious thought. This added yet more fuel to Amanda’s fiery temper. Her patience was worn paper-thin, paper about to tear. Greenfinch answered just in time.
‘A catalyst,’ she stated, as if no further explanation were required.
‘A...catalyst? What the hell is that supposed to-?’
‘A catalyst,’ she repeated. ‘For events to come. The future does not write itself. Certain things must happen; events must be set in motion. Every chain-reaction needs a catalyst.’
For a few seconds, Amanda was silent. Before long, she regained her voice, tinged with more frustration than ever. ‘Surely it matters whether the son of a bitch is alive or not.’
‘Not in any of the futures I’ve seen,’ Greenfinch stated simply.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘You didn’t need to know,’ she answered bluntly.
Suddenly, Amanda slammed the wall with her palm in frustration. Dust flew off it in all directions. It appeared that, this time, Greenfinch had pushed her too far.
‘Just once...’ Amanda leant forward so that they were nose to nose. She could almost make out the colour of the mysterious woman’s eyes. ‘Just once, I wish that one sentence that came out of that mouth made a fucking ounce of sense.’
Pin drop silence reigned for a matter of seconds. Then Greenfinch shrugged off Amanda’s threatening disposition with ease and asked, matter-of-factly, ‘Where’d be the fun in that?’
Amanda glowered fiercely at her for a moment, before turning on her heel and marching off down the corridor, leaving a dusty hand-print on the ancient wall.
Greenfinch rolled her eyes and called after her. ‘Where are you keeping our guest?’
‘In the basement,’ Amanda flung back at her coldly. ‘Mary’s been keeping him company.’
Without a moment’s hesitation, Greenfinch turned and set off back down the stairs. She had nearly made it to the bottom, when Amanda’s voice broke the fragile silence once again.
‘I forgot to ask.’ Greenfinch turned to see her counterpart leaning casually over the ornate wooden banister. She seemed to have mastered her earlier aggravation. ‘How was your date with the Jackson kid?’
The woman below fixed Amanda with a wry smile. ‘I think I broke his girlfriend’s heart.’

Elan’s Apartment, New York

Kyle blinked again. There was no doubt: the figure in the painting was him. He was absolutely certain, he had been there after all. He had committed those terrible acts. The memory of them still stung bitterly in his stomach. Eventually, he turned away, unable to keep his thoughts from straying towards April...to his mother. This was his life now, he had to accept it. At least he was with others like him. Although he would never admit it, without Elan he would be lost.
‘You really painted that?’ he demanded of Nina for the fiftieth time.
The tired-looking artist gave him the same unwavering look of sincerity, nodding and replying, ‘Two days ago...’
‘Far out,’ Kyle murmured. It was strange to think that, for these people, this world was the norm. This hidden world of amazing abilities, government experiments and villainous plots. Strange yet appealing. In the recesses of his mind, Kyle knew this was the world he belonged in. Ever since he had found out about NEOs, he had held a secret envy of them, wishing he too could be different...special, instead of being just another grey tile in the bland mosaic of the global population. And now he had his wish, though it had come at a price. He was one of them
Submerged in his thoughts, Kyle didn’t notice the girl glaring at him from the other side of the room. Danielle was struggling to grasp why Elan had gone to so much trouble to find this boy. He didn’t seem to know anything about Spectar...or the attacks. When Nina had showed him the terrible pictures of the corpse-filled streets of New York, he had been as shocked as Danielle had. How could he be any help in preventing something he knew nothing about?
The young girl had a feeling there was a lot Elan wasn’t telling her. As much as she knew she had to trust Elan, the woman’s refusal to reveal everything combined with her frequent unexplained absences only incensed Danielle’s growing frustration. According to Elan, Danielle was going to save the world. How could that be true when she barely knew where the danger lay?
Suddenly she realised that Kyle had caught her watching him, their eyes met and they found themselves locked in an awkward staring contest. Danielle felt embarrassed, but was too proud to look away. Fortunately, Kyle’s features slowly spread into a boyish smirk. Jumping from his seat, he walked boldly across the apartment to Danielle.
‘So what’s your story?’ he asked confidently, slumping down to the floor next to her, with his back to the wall. ‘You’re a bit young to be mixed up in all this conspiracy bullshit.’
Danielle bit her tongue. He was just two years older than her, and the experience she had with the Firm more than made up the difference. Kyle laughed, gleaning from her tight-lipped expression that he had touched a nerve.
‘Hey,’ he began, more amiably. ‘As far as I’m concerned, no one here is more ignorant than I am.’
‘How’d you mean?’ Danielle asked after a few seconds silence.
‘You grew up in this crazy world, you’ve lived it,’ he gave her a short sideways glance then went back to staring at the ceiling. ‘I grew up wishing that someone would replace my boring life with the one you had-’
‘It’s not all excitement,’ Danielle cut in self-importantly. ‘Constantly hiding, running, looking over your shoulder... I’d have your normal life over mine any day.’
She turned to see him looking at her ironically. In a droll voice, he told her, ‘If I ever start to sound like that, you can kill me.’
Despite herself, Danielle giggled then stopped abruptly, feeling stupid.
‘Aha!’ he pointed at her accusingly. ‘I knew it! The moody, brooding girl has a sense of humour after all.’
‘I’m not... You don’t even know me!’ Danielle piped up hotly.
‘Alright, let’s start with names. Nice to meet you, I’m Kyle.’
‘Danielle,’ Danielle muttered, not wishing to give the other teenager any more ammunition with which to poke fun at her. But he seemed to be happy to let the conversation end there. They sat in silence.
Nina had crashed out on the sofa again, her demanding ability taking its toll on her sleeping patterns. Kyle had turned his head towards her. Seeing this, Danielle took the opportunity to study his aura. Having expected to see it riddled with arrogance and self-confidence, she was surprised to see it mostly dominated by sadness and grief. Danielle read the swirling colours like a book, seeing the familiar signs in the fractured entity: suffering of great loss, grieving left unchecked that swelled deep inside. Like her, Kyle had lost his mother...very recently. From his humorous, upbeat demeanour, she would never have foreseen the huge sorrow he was hiding inside. Now that she had, she felt incredibly guilty for betraying his evident desire to keep this sorrow hidden.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled without thinking.
‘Sorry for what?’ he replied, still staring blankly at Nina. She hadn’t intended that he would hear.
‘Just... Nothing.’ Danielle didn’t need her ability to know that there were tears on his face.

‘Take it back!’ Everything had gone red. Mary no longer knew if her fists were colliding with flesh or brick. She simply thrashed out, over and over again, with no thought of stopping. ‘Take it back! Now!’
Perhaps Lindet was already unconscious, she didn’t care. All thought of her mission had escaped her mind, replaced with raw animal emotion. The kind of animal that threatened to break out whenever she thought about what had been done to her. She had succeeded in keeping it hidden away, in a cage at the back of her mind. Now that cage was well and truly open, the savage monster within finally loose.
‘I had a life!’ She screamed. ‘I had a future! You took that from me!’
With almighty strength, she grabbed Lindet’s frail form and launched him across the room. In a moment of madness, she snatched her pistol from its holster and took two merciless strides over to where Lindet lay cowering in the corner.
‘I should have done this a long time ago,’ she spat callously, as she forced the barrel against his skull.
‘Wait!’ The doctor whimpered. ‘Please, I’m sorry! If I’d known what they really wanted with you-’
‘You knew exactly what they wanted!’
‘I didn’t...’ Lindet stuttered. ‘I swear to God, I didn’t!’
Mary flung back her hair and leaned closer: ‘Swear to God? You think you are God! Every word that comes out of your tainted mouth is a lie-’
‘Please! If I could go back and change what happened-’
‘It’s too late. I’m going to put an end to your miserable existence right here before you do any more damage...’ She cocked the hammer on the silver pistol. The metallic click cut deep into Lindet’s eardrums.
‘Please!’
‘Shut up!’
Mary began to squeeze the trigger.
‘Enough!’
The final shout was amplified incredibly by the hard brick walls of the cellar. Greenfinch stood in the doorway, calm as ever, fixing Mary with a fierce stare.
‘Really, Mary,’ her voice had transformed itself, all of a sudden sweet and pleasant. ‘Is this anyway to treat our guest?’
Mary knew not to argue. She simply fell back against the wall, the gun slipping from her grasp onto the dusty floorboards. The animal was temporarily back behind bars, perhaps accepting that it may never take revenge.
‘Now,’ Greenfinch stepped into the room, the bright light in the doorway behind exaggerating her shadow in the dimly lit room. ‘As I recall, Mary, I simply requested that you ask Doctor Lindet a few simple questions. By the looks of things, he hasn’t been entirely co-operative. Even so, you should have realised that there are far better ways of extracting information than beating it out of people.’
Her semi-rebuking glance went completely unnoticed by Mary, who continued to stare blankly at the wall opposite.
‘Are you...’ Greenfinch’s focus snapped to Lindet, speaking through the blood in his mouth. ‘Are you going to kill me?’
‘That depends on whether you can help us, Doctor.’ she answered honestly.
‘I told her, it can’t be done!’ he pleaded. ‘I don’t know how to reverse it!’
‘Well, at least you were telling the truth,’ she stated, as if it were of some consolation. ‘Unfortunately, in my book, the truth doesn’t count for much if it isn’t what I want to hear.’
Lindet didn’t know whether to look petrified or grateful. In an instant, Greenfinch’s tone had changed once again. She addressed him with detached intolerance, having lost patience with a man who had completely lost his value to her. ‘There is a way to reverse Spectar, Doctor Lindet, and I’m going to find it. In the meantime,’ she turned her gaze to Mary. ‘Miss Johnson here can do as she pleases with you...’
Mary looked up at her with almost hysterical gratitude. Reinvigorated, she scraped up her gun from the ground and rose to her full height once more. Panic-stricken, Lindet watched the mysterious woman exit the woman then cast his eyes upwards to the smiling face of Mary- cold and impassive once again- half-hidden behind the looming silver barrel of her favourite weapon.

‘The current location of the Second Minister cannot be released for obvious reasons,’ the news reader droned on over the repeating cycle of images and captions. ‘But we have been informed that he is perfectly safe and completely unharmed. So far, we have no reason to believe that he is in any further danger-’
Monica slammed the screen down, cutting out the reporter’s voice. For a few seconds everyone was silent. Chloe was first to speak, almost in a whisper, ‘Why would Sarah try to kill Preston? It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘That girl is beyond sense!’ said Monica. ‘She’s shut out everyone who cares about her, coked up on Jimmy’s drugs. Why would she give logic a second thought?’
‘Seems like pretty logical thinking to me,’ Kent wheezed. ‘Preston’s a piece of shit. He’s the reason we’re all in this mess in the first place, and now he wants to spread his lies to Russia and South America... Too bad Winters didn’t finish the job.’
‘You idiot,’ Monica snapped suddenly. ‘You really think if Preston hadn’t headed those campaigns, someone else wouldn’t have? You really think killing him will solve anything? Someone would take his place like that!’ She snapped her fingers.
‘I don’t understand,’ piped up Hetty. ‘AUTHORITY’s gone, I thought we were safe. The range on Spectar-’
‘They’ve had months to alter it...improve it,’ said Hex.
Monica nodded, ‘And now they know that the enemy has Spectar. Preston will want M.A.D.... Mutually Assured Destruction,’ she added, seeing the blank expressions of Hetty and Kent. ‘And it won’t take long before he realises the answer has been under his nose this whole time.’
‘If he hasn’t already,’ said Chloe, blankly.
Kent leapt up and immediately fell back onto the couch, clutching at his chest in pain. ‘Wait,’ he managed. ‘They’ll make demands, surely. Whoever they are, they’ll want something in exchange for Spectar.’ His voice quivered with uncertainty.
Monica shook her head helplessly. ‘You don’t realise who we’re dealing with. They don’t do demands, they don’t negotiate. They want a war,’ she paused. The only pair of eyes in the room not fixed on her was Hex’s. ‘And now, thanks to Sarah, Preston is willing to give them one.’

Amanda winced, hearing the gunshot echo loudly around the mansion. She saw Greenfinch emerge from the cellar and rushed down the stairs to greet her, their previous argument now seemed entirely irrelevant.
‘Well...?’ she demanded, eyes wide in anticipation.
‘Well, nothing,’ the other woman brushed past her. ‘He didn’t know anything.’
‘So...maybe it isn’t possible?’
‘It’s possible, I’ve seen it.’
Amanda almost shuddered at yet another infuriatingly cryptic reply. This time, she fought to keep her calm. ‘So where does this leave us.’
‘Lindet was the easiest solution,’ Greenfinch sighed. ‘The other involves slightly more undesirable means to an end. Undesirable yet necessary,’ she ordained to add.
‘Hang on,’ Amanda halted them both. ‘Does this mean...? I thought you said-’
‘It appears all other options have been exhausted,’ Greenfinch remarked, regret creeping into her voice. ‘I have no choice...I have to use my ability.’

Loved it. Really well written

Thanks sorry about the ridiculously long wait. As promised, there is a major twist at the end of the next chapter, which I've written about half of.

You will also find out what Greenfinch's ability is.

Looking forward to both

So good Mary's really vicious And I'm trying to think what Greenfinch's ability is now. Great chapter

Chapter Fifteen: Broken Vows

The city lights winked up at Elan, the high altitude gusts whipping her hair about her face. She looked at the familiar view beneath her: the streets of Manhattan heavy with traffic even at this hour. She could just about make out the rumbling of engines and the occasional angry horn of a taxi.
It made her chuckle inside, the optimistic idea at the turn of the millennium that by 2030 the traffic would have risen above the ground, that the skies would be lined with flying vehicles, airborne highways. These days, in reality you would be lucky to see a commercial airliner take off from JFK, let alone be on it. The future that the idealists and the politicians had envisaged was but a memory that never existed. Elan had known this view for over 20 years, the most important moments of her life had all taken place on this rooftop, and the cityscape that spread itself below her remained unchanged in all that time. The only innovations taken by crime, persecution and the inevitable decay of time. The city was dying. It had to be saved.
And saving it was the task they had set themselves all those years ago. Now only Elan remained, only she had a chance of seeing it through. And she had tried. She was still trying, but in order to acquire the means to save everyone, she would have to break her vow. The vow she had made to him, the one tenuous link to his memory to which she had held on must be severed. Elan had always known it was a possibility, a last resort which she never wanted to have to acknowledge. As much as it was breaking her heart, by breaking her vow, she could do more than save the city. She could save the world.

Anton forced his money into the machine and punched the numbers frantically. The dial tone cut out and after a short series of beeps he was greeted with a friendly automated message. The voice was female and annoyingly calm.
‘Hello, you have dialled the number for the Russian Secret Service. Please give your name and validation code to this machine or, if you have called this number by mistake, please hang up the phone immediately...’
Anton bit his lip impatiently while the message played on. The beep finally played and he immediately announced his name and code, rapidly yet clearly.
‘Identity validated. Good day, Mr Demidov,’ the recording could have been a real person. If it had been, Anton wouldn’t have hesitated to tell it to cut the pleasantries, he didn’t enjoy small talk, especially with a machine. ‘How can I help you today?’
‘You can put me through to Alex McArthur right now!’ Anton hissed into the mouthpiece.
‘May I enquire as to the nature of your business with Agent McArthur?’
Anton nearly told the virtual woman at the other end of the line to keep out of his business when in his mind flashed an image of Anya: frightened, alone and unable to make sense of the situation he had put her in. Anton held back and forced himself to remain calm.
‘Demidov!’ By the sound of his voice, McArthur was more relieved than angry. ‘Where are you? It’s two days since we lost you at the Plaza. What the hell happened?’
‘You were right about Korolov,’ Anton spoke quickly but precisely. ‘I can’t explain everything right now but-’
‘Then come in so we can debrief you,’ the American cut across him.
‘No! Listen to me, Alex, please,’ Anton was fast sacrificing professionalism for desperation. ‘He has Anya. We have to get her back. No police, no service. We can’t trust anyone... Is this a secure line?’
Anton gulped, too late realising his mistake. Perhaps the mistake was calling McArthur in the first place. But what could he achieve alone? Anya would be as good as dead. It pained him that the American was the only person he had to turn to for help. Nonetheless, he would never put his pride ahead of Anya’s life.
‘As secure as it gets,’ McArthur reassured him. ‘Please, Demidov. You have to tell me where you are.’
‘Junction 15 underpass, 2300 hours.’
‘What? Demidov, I-’
‘Just be there. Alone. I get even a sniff of any feds and we’re done.’
Click. The dial tone returned.

Absent-mindedly Elan played with the ring on her finger. The design was simple: a tiny blue stone was set neatly in the smooth silver. Simple but beautiful. She had never tired of looking at it. At the moment, however, the sight of it pained Elan. As precious as it was, it still represented a restriction upon her, a remainder of the promise she had made. Until now it had not been a burden, she had never before considered the prospect of breaking her promise. Now that it was her only option, the ring felt tight...heavy on her hand.
Suddenly it felt like she could wear it no longer. Frantically she struggled to pull it off; somehow feeling as if it constricted her more the more she tugged at it. She tensed her face and looked skywards, gritting her teeth. Finally she prised it off.
‘Elan?’
She drew a sharp breath and spun around to see Danielle cautiously approaching her. The young girl looked concerned, the lines in her brow crossing as she caught sight of Elan’s tear struck face.
‘Sorry... I didn’t realise you were back,’ she said uncertainly. ‘Elan... Is everything ok?’
The older woman hesitated for a second, before turning away from Danielle to face the view again. ‘Yes. I’m fine,’ Elan told her firmly. ‘Everything’s fine.’
Danielle moved forward, so they stood side by side behind the wall at the edge of the rooftop. She studied Elan’s face, finding it to be once again the expressionless mask that she seemed to be able to adopt whenever she needed. But Danielle knew there was something going on, beneath the inscrutable poker face, Elan was sad. Perhaps Danielle was using her ability unconsciously, or perhaps she was simply getting to know her better, either way there was no doubt in her mind that everything was not fine.
‘You told me you weren’t going to lie to me anymore,’ she said blankly, staring out into the night.
Elan looked at her guiltily for a second, thinking better of misdirecting the girl any further. Eventually she said: ‘Have you ever made a promise to someone?’
Surprised at the question, Danielle hesitated, unable to formulate a reply. Fortunately Elan didn’t seem to require one.
‘What if a promise you once made to someone...was the only thing keeping their memory alive,’ she went on. ‘But the only way to stop something terrible from happening was to break that promise. And you had to make a choice...’
‘Is this about Nina’s visions?’ Danielle blurted out.
Elan nodded. She had grown sick of keeping secrets from Danielle, even though she knew it was necessary.
Danielle took advantage of Elan’s sudden willingness to divulge. ‘This person you made a promise to, is he the man you told me about? The one who dreamt about me?’
Again Elan nodded her head silently. Her right hand clasped tightly around the ring in its palm. Danielle laid her own hand on top of it for comfort. Her eyes drew level with Elan’s and they both simply looked at each other for a moment. For Elan, it felt uncannily like looking into a mirror of the past.
‘I don’t think there is a choice,’ Danielle said finally. ‘Whatever promise you made, he wouldn’t have wanted it to stand in the way of saving millions of lives. I think it’s time to let go...’
Elan gave her an appreciative smile. ‘You’re right, of course,’ she lifted her hand to brush the tears from her eyes. ‘It’s time to let go.’
Danielle smiled back, giving the city one more glance before turning away from it and starting towards the door. She paused. ‘Are you coming inside?’ she asked.
‘In a few minutes,’ Elan reassured her. ‘I just need to be alone for a bit.... Thank you Danielle,’ she added quickly. The girl smiled back at her before disappearing into the stairwell. For a minute or two, Elan stared at where the girl had been, then pictured herself standing in the exact same spot, simultaneously at the happiest and the most devastating moment in her life. It was on this rooftop that she had accepted the ring, it seemed fitting that it should be here that she gave it back.
‘Time to let go,’ she muttered. Without another second’s contemplation, she hurled the ring as far as she could over the side. The falling night quickly enveloped it and then it was gone. She was free.

‘I’m not happy about this, Demidov. I’ve always done things by the book.’
‘By the book?! My goddaughter has been kidnapped and you want to talk about rules?’ Anton’s hushed voice was amplified dramatically in the damp space beneath the unused bypass over their heads. ‘It’s your fault, you dragged me into this. All I wanted to do was protect her, and now I’ve endangered her more than her mother ever could.’
‘You can’t seriously expect me to negotiate with these bastards?’ McArthur sounded nervous which meant that, in turn, Anton felt in control. ‘I won’t put one little girl’s life ahead of the security of this nation-’
‘Fuck you Alex!’ Anton couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘I vowed to myself that whatever happened, I would look after that girl. I’d put her life ahead of yours and mine- even Titov’s- any day. With or without you, I’m going to get her back.’
‘I won’t negotiate-’ McArthur began, only to be harshly cut off.
‘I don’t plan on fucking negotiating!’ Anton’s eyes flashed in anger. ‘If that son of a bitch has even touched a single hair on her head... The only reason I called you is so you can take Korolov down, make a clean arrest. All I care about is Anya.’
‘OK,’ McArthur said reluctantly. ‘If it means stopping Korolov, I’ll help you. But we do this my way. I take Korolov in alive, he goes to prison, justice is served. All those thoughts of revenge, you can forget them.’
‘Deal,’ Anton said hurriedly, eager to wrap this up. ‘We move at dawn.’
‘Are you sure you want to handle this alone? One phone call and the suits are on their way.’
‘And you trust the suits?’ Anton gave him a sideways glance.
McArthur shrugged. Anton couldn’t tell if he was agreeing or simply conceding to Anton’s wishes. He didn’t much care either way. ‘I’m going to need a new firearm,’ he said. His own weapon had been confiscated at the Plaza, and he hadn’t had the chance to get it back.
‘Take mine,’ McArthur drew his long-barrelled pistol from the holster in his jacket and handed it over to Anton. ‘I have other weapons at my disposal.’

For what felt like the millionth time, Monica played back the audio file on her computer. Every time she heard its contents, it became harder to accept what it meant. The dire situation she had previously thought they were in now seemed like a happy memory compared to the reality which unfolded before her. She felt powerless. But Hannah had given her life to get this information to her. She had to think of something- any feasible course of action- or the poor girl’s sacrifice would be in vain.
So far Monica had kept the file to herself, unwilling even to show it to Chloe. Before she had any idea of what they could do about it, there was no reason to frighten everyone. It didn’t feel good, though, being the only one who knew how bad things potentially were. But it was the role she had taken. As alone as it made her feel, it was the responsibility she had assumed as the leader of the Firm.
Suddenly the recording cut out, right in the middle. Monica turned back to the screen to see it completely black. Curiously, she leaned forward and tapped it tentatively. No response. Then her ears were met with a sequence of loud electrical cracks. She looked up through the Perspex glass in her office door. The corridor was slowly blacking out, light by light. The darkness was drawing nearer. Finally, there was a faint unnerving hiss, as the lights within her office dimmed then went out entirely.
For several minutes, she sat in the pitch blackness, waiting for...she didn’t know what she was waiting for. But she had an idea. Slowly, she pulled open the top desk drawer and withdrew the small revolver sitting inside. If the intruder was who she thought it was, the gun would be useless. Still, it was good to be prepared.
All of a sudden, Monica knew that she was no longer by herself. This was confirmed when a small fire burst up in front of her, shielded by the palm in which it had been created. A second fire was ignited immediately, and the two cast enough light to reveal the face of their maker. The green eyes were focused directly at Monica.
‘The mysterious Greenfinch,’ Monica exclaimed sarcastically. ‘We meet at last!’
The hooded woman’s face broke into a cynical smile. ‘It’s good to see you, Monica,’ she commented genially. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘I wish I could say the same of you,’ Monica said regretfully. ‘I must say, I’m surprised at the alias you chose. Do you really think he would approve of your intentions?’
‘You act like you knew him better than me!’ Greenfinch laughed. ‘He would understand what I’m trying to achieve more than anyone. He saw it. He saw our victory over the pathetic homosapiens. I’m just here to make it a reality.’
‘Maybe what he saw and what you saw aren’t the same thing,’ Monica sighed. ‘History’s just another pattern, Elan, I should know. It always repeats itself. You don’t need my ability to see that we’re all headed for Extinction.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Elan Greene extinguished the fire in her right hand and reached forward towards Monica. ‘But I will be needing your ability.’

As I suspected Love the twist though

You knew this whole time?!

I guessed a while ago. Not all the time though, I put it together while rereading.

Wow. That's all I can say Great chapter!

Did you see it coming too? I thought I'd hidden that a lot better. I mean, this whole time, they've just been the same character to me. I had to keep checking that I hadn't used her real name by mistake.
Thanks anyway. Any ideas on what her plan could be? Just so you know, it does all make sense.
The next chapter will be a flashback chapter explaining Elan's past and a lot of her history with the Firm and with Monica and a new character. May take me a while as it will probably be the longest yet. It's kind of a story in itself. General conversation welcome.

I didn't see it coming, big shock You hid it well, Lowri's just really smart

Lowri just knows her own character

I suppose. I mean there were loads of giveaways, especially if you read it more than once. In the first flashback chapter in Arc One, Greenfinch uses persuasion which we know Elan has. That's just the first of many.
I hope more people read this, it's consumed a lot of my thinking, figuring out how to write 15 chapters without revealing that two of the most important characters are the same person. I mean, c'mon!

Plus, Lowri is really smart. I was a fool to think I could fool her!

So any guesses of what Greenfinch's ability might be?

(I miss general conversation lol)

Guess you're not asking me to guess

I'm pretty sure everyone who has read the chapter knows. I was kind of asking you since you two seem to be the only ppl who read this right now . I was hoping more ppl would and that twist would entice them to read further but no such luck! Oh well, I have to finish this Arc now, I've invested too much time in it, and you're both enjoying it, so why not?

Are you writing anything atm Lowri? Haven't seen any new chapters for a while, I miss reading your stories, and the general talk we would have about them on the BBC boards. Seems like ages ago. I guess it was!

Progress report: The Firm is coming along nicely, nearly finished it. It's 17 pages so far, easily my longest chapter to date, but like I said it's a story in itself, and it breaks up nicely into sections, so you don't have to read it all at once. Hope to be posting it here soon.

Good news and bad news.

Good news first: I finally got round to finishing the Firm, and it's nearly 22 pages, so easily my longest chapter yet like I said. Before that it was probably the Decisions finale, which was only 7. Oh well... I think it explains things quite nicely.

The bad news is that I've had a think, and I've decided that the story works better if the Firm doesn't immediately follow Broken Vows. I know you've been waiting ages, but from the PoV of the reader it comes immediately after the revelation that Elan is Greenfinch, which doesn't really work in terms of suspense. So I'm afraid I've decided to squeeze another chapter in between, but dw, it won't take me anywhere near as long to write as it will be a short one, and I'll get on it right away. Thanks for your continuing patience, whoever may still be reading this, which is in all likelihood, no one.

Looking forward to it when you post it

Me too, though I may not be able to give you feedback due to reading from a phone. Soz

Hey Dana, how are you?

Did you manage to read 14 and 15? If so, what did you think of the twist? Dw about it, I know how difficult it is for you, thanks for still reading.

Looking forward too it

Chapter Sixteen: Hesitation

Barvikha District, Moscow, Russia

The indistinct black car was parked across the road from the prestigious-looking house, lights completely dimmed and engine cold. The two occupants shivered, their breath condensing in the unheated interior, both aware that discretion was key to what they were attempting.
Anton replaced his borrowed pistol in his holster after checking the chamber for the umpteenth time- it was fitted with a full clip. Anton sincerely hoped it remained that way when the night was over, but he knew he couldn’t be afraid to release a few bullets...if it was the difference between getting Anya safe and leaving her to whims of this maniac, he would empty the entire clip without hesitation.
Sighing, he pulled open the glove box and retrieved a battered pack of cigarettes. ‘I need a smoke,’ he grunted.
‘Tut tut, Anton,’ Alex chastised him, a smirk on his face. ‘Not at your age, surely?’
Anton had pulled one of the slender sticks from the box, and already had it between his lips, with the lighter flame millimetres away from the paper. But before he could inhale, after months of nicotine patches and ludicrous herbal therapy, he remembered the reason he had quit in the first place was for Anya. He couldn’t bring himself to break his resolution As relaxed as few puffs would make him feel, it just didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t need a cigarette, he needed his god-daughter back with him and safe. That was why he was back here, doing this.
‘Alright,’ Anton shoved the unlit cigarette back in the packet and chucked them onto the backseat. ‘How are we doing?’
The secret service agent looked up from the screen of the small satellite device sat on his lap. It showed the basic layout of Korolov’s mansion and the surrounding area, any human activity showing up as red blips against the pale blue background.
‘I think this is as good a time as any,’ Alex informed him, placing the device in an accessible pocket in his dark clothing. ‘Remember, Anton, stick to the plan. Korolov is the key to plugging this coup. We need him in custody, not in the morgue.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Anton reassured him, cocking the hammer on his weapon. ‘All I care about is Anya. I’ll leave the politics to the professionals.’

Gardenville, New Jersey

Rachel poured the water from the kettle into two separate mugs, caring little when the steaming liquid spilled over the sides and onto the counter. The teabags were old and stale, but they were all she could find in the sparse kitchen cupboards of their parents’ house. Rachel hadn’t been here in months, but it felt surprisingly normal to be back, as if her exploits with the Firm and her time in Manhattan had all been a strange dream, from which she was just beginning to wake up.
However, the unconscious sociopathic teenage girl lying in her bed reminded her how real it all still was. Sarah sat watching her like a hawk, her fierce eyes blinking minimally, her hand resting lightly on her handgun, ready for anything.
Rachel set the excuse for tea on the bedside table, murmuring to Sarah that it was there if she wanted it. Rachel hadn’t dared touch the milk left in the fridge, and she hated black tea. She took a few sips before choosing to abandon it down the bathroom sink. When she re-entered the bedroom, she gasped as she saw her sister in the process of crushing two or three small pale blue tablets into the mug Rachel had given her.
‘Whoa, Sarah! I know there wasn’t any sugar but-’
Sarah laughed almost hysterically, still crumbling up the ATB and mixing in the powder. ‘You really think I’d ever put these evil things near my mouth again?’ She seemed genuinely amused at the idea. ‘As much as I hate Angel Titbits, it has its uses. You used to get this shit on prescription, you know? Before they started locking us up...’
Rachel caught on to her sister’s line of thought. ‘Jimmy used to use it to suppress his abilities, didn’t he?’ All those times she had witnessed Jimmy turn from an unstable mess to a master of his electricity finally made sense to her. He’d always had a handy supply of ATB pills for when his power became too much for him. ‘But you can’t give it to her!’ Rachel protested. ‘It’s not right. You can’t stoop to her level-’
‘This isn’t about personal revenge, sis!’ Sarah exclaimed, looking insulted. ‘Wendy Young can put into your mind whatever fucked-up images take her fancy, and she’s completely unhinged. This is the only way that we can question her safely. Otherwise, when she’s coherent, what’s to stop her making me turn this gun on you...or myself?’
Rachel gulped. She hadn’t considered how much of a danger Young represented. She had taken her out without a moment’s hesitation back at the scrap yard, but if Wendy’s attention hadn’t been completely diverted on forcing Sarah to kill Preston, Rachel now realised that she would have been little match for the tortured illusionist.
But even as Rachel’s fear dominated, an ounce of pity remained for the girl lying almost peacefully on her mattress. There couldn’t be much more than a year between them and, in some strange way, Rachel felt connected to the younger girl. They were both orphans, but where Rachel had been reunited with Sarah, Wendy had endured the exact opposite, torn apart by the loss of a sister on whom she had depended to provide some shred of comfort and security. With Simone gone, it was no wonder Wendy had lost her way. Her terrible ability afforded her little other option than to let herself be manipulated and used by the real villains. Rachel was sure that deep inside was a scared little girl, not unlike the one Rachel had left behind in her strive for independence through her teenage years.
‘I know what you’re thinking, Rach,’ Sarah cast a sidelong glance. ‘But we can’t afford to be empathetic here. She’s not like us...not anymore. This girl impersonated our dead friend and forced me to kill a man, and then tried to make me assassinate one of the most powerful men in the country. I want to know why, and trust me, this is the only way.’
She emptied the remaining powder into the mug and brought it to Wendy’s side.
‘Here,’ she soothed gently, as the girl stirred. Sarah lifted Wendy’s head forward and tipped a small amount of the drug-filled broth down her throat. ‘This will make you feel better, I promise...’

Somewhere near Denver, Colorado

Preston strode impressively down the brightly illuminated passage, his bodyguards a metre behind him each step of the way. After the incident with Winters, he wasn’t taking any chances on security. Both men were equipped with a heartbeat monitor which let them know if that psychopathic bitch or anyone like her came within 100m of Preston. She wouldn’t stand a chance.
A tall thinning man in a white coat was approaching them. He held out a hand, but Preston ignored it, not even deigning to break his stride.
‘Dr Wenstein, I presume?’ Preston enquired irritably, as the scientist clumsily caught up with him.
‘That’s right, Mr Second Minister, sir. Graduated Harvard 2003, degree in biochemistry. After that, I spent seven years studying for a PhD in-’
‘That’s fantastic, doctor,’ Preston’s voice was heavily damped with sarcasm. ‘What happened to Lindet? I thought he was conducting this research.’
The doctor looked taken aback. ‘At Harnex, yes. But this has been a government matter for several months now... Though surely you’ve heard, sir? Henry Lindet’s body was found off the coast of New Jersey two days ago.’
‘Wait!’ Preston stopped so abruptly, that Wenstein had to double back several metres. ‘You’re telling me Dr Lindet’s dead?’
‘Yes, sir, murdered. Tragic news. We used to be colleagues, actually. His wife must be devastated...’
Preston cursed under his breath, paying no attention to the babbling scientist. If they’d got to Lindet, there was no telling how close they were to reversing Spectar. Although the dearly departed had assured Preston he personally knew no way of reconfiguring the chemical, he wouldn’t put Lindet’s sincerity beyond doubt. After all, his company had held back vital information for months. He made a snap judgement. While this terrorist was still at large and in possession of such a serious bio threat, there wasn’t much more he could do than put as many resources towards finding them as they could afford. That much he had done as soon as he had been made aware of the problem. Right now, his best move was to proceed as planned.
‘Ok, doctor,’ he addressed Wenstein sharply. ‘I need to know everything, and I mean everything, about this operation. This is a matter of national security. Believe me, I will hang you out to dry if you hold back even the smallest detail.’

The two heavily built men crumpled to the floor like toy action figures, the loaded weapons in their holsters could have been no more than plastic replicas.
‘Are they going to be alright?’ Anton sounded more curious than concerned.
Alex raised an eyebrow. ‘They should wake up in a couple of hours.’
He didn’t elaborate. Anton didn’t question him further, but in the back of his mind he was interested to know what other weapons McArthur had hidden in his arsenal. He was beginning to understand why the President had considered him such an asset.
‘Ok, let’s move,’ Alex pocketed the thermal imaging device once more and moved out from their cover, Anton following close behind. They stepped carefully over the neutralised security and moved onto the porch. It didn’t take Alex long to override the electronic lock and they were inside.
‘Right, he’s gotta be in here somewhere,’ Anton said in a hushed voice. During their stake-out they had seen the politician’s car pull up through the gates. ‘You check the bedrooms, I’ll take the office. You find Anya, you call me immediately.’
These last words weren’t spoken as a request, but a statement. Alex nodded his understanding, moving across the hall and up the grand staircase that hugged the curved walls.
Anton made a left, the location of Korolov’s office engraved in his mind from his last visit to the residence. He fondled the trigger of McArthur’s gun as he crept along the dim corridors. Alex had assured him that Korolov only employed external security, nonetheless Anton found himself wishing he had a similar device to that of the Secret Service agent.
He moved from wall to wall, pausing to check each room he came across. Somehow, though, he knew already where he would find his quarry, which was why he had sent Alex upstairs. If Anya wasn’t being kept here, which Anton strongly suspected, he needed a few minutes alone with Korolov to extract her location.
Finally he reached the passageway which he knew lead to the politician’s private study, and sure enough, thin beams of light shone through the cracks in the door at the opposite end. Anton approached cautiously, all the way deliberating with himself on how to make his entry. In the end, he opted for the traditional approach, firing two silenced shots at the old-fashioned lock and kicking in the double doors.
His gun held aloft, he pounced towards Korolov, who was sitting comfortably behind his desk. ‘Hands where I can see them!’ he hissed, and the man complied, placing his hands calmly on the desk.
‘Anton,’ he remarked casually. ‘I had a feeling you’d be back.’
‘Oh yeah? Let’s cut to the chase, Dmitri. Give me back my god-daughter!’
Korolov laughed, ‘You really haven’t thought this through at all.’ He tilted his head back on his massive shoulders, smiling oddly. ‘Even if I did have Kashin’s little girl, do you really think she’d be here?’
‘I know you took her! Where is she?!’ Anton’s right hand was shaking violently, the temptation to pump the traitorous man full of lead almost overwhelming his judgement. ‘The game’s up, Dmitri, it’s over. They know about your plans to facilitate the entry of enemy troops onto Russian soil, about your collaboration with Preston. McArthur is here right now, I give him the word, and he will take you into custody. But first you tell me where Anya is!’
Korolov looked helpless, almost pitiful of Anton. But he remained silent.
‘Fine! I’ll find out for myself,’ Anton proceeded to aggressively overturn every piece of furniture in the room, scanning every document, every folder, searching for any sign, any connection that might lead him to Anya. He glanced back at Korolov every few seconds, keeping his pistol trained on the man’s chest.
‘You won’t find anything, Anton, I promise you,’ Korolov shook his head, looking distraught as Anton redoubled his efforts ‘Come on, you’re a smart man. Just take a moment to think about this. Something doesn’t add up and you know it. Have they made any demands?’
Anton paused, turning to face Korolov. ‘What?’
‘The kidnappers, have you heard from them? Have they asked for ransom, or given you any instructions to carry out in exchange for Anya’s life?’
‘You took her to keep me quiet...’ For the first time, Anton sounded uncertain.
‘Why would I want to keep you quiet Anton? You don’t have any information on me that the government doesn’t already know about,’ Korolov fixed Anton with a sincere stare. ‘I don’t have her Anton, I swear. You’re being played.’
Anton’s weapon hand lowered slightly, betraying his hesitation. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but Korolov was making sense. His fierce resolve to get Anya back at all costs had blinded him to the truth: none of this made any sense.
‘Who’s behind this?’ Anton demanded furiously, still unconvinced of Korolov’s innocence in all this. ‘Who has my god-daughter?’
‘The same people who have my family, Anton.’

Dr Wenstein brought various files up on the virtual desktop, which he presumably thought were worthy of Preston’s attention. The politician feigned interest, but he was starting to regret his instruction that he be filled in on every detail. Scientific research bored him; it was the results it yielded that took his interest.
The scientist drew his attention to a series of images; profiles of men and women of various ages, with dates and small details of the experiments conducted on them.
‘Several test subjects were acquired: possible matches located through the Sentry Program,’ he explained. ‘Many simply didn’t respond to the treatment; however several did, but in...unexpected ways.’
He paused, as if reliving a painful experience.
‘Out of all of them, only two candidates were selected,’ he went on, somewhat hurriedly. ‘Two individuals with a positive reaction to the formula. Unfortunately, one was recently able to escape this facility.’
‘Yes, I know about Jackson. I have several intelligence units tracking him down as we speak,’ Preston told him. ‘What of the other?’
‘Beta9 is progressing well. To an effect, she is able to control the magnitude of the ability we gave her. Although this isn’t integral to the Program, we have managed to obtain some fascinating results-’
Preston held up a hand to silence the doctor, his interest snuffed when Wenstein had indicated the limited relevance of the matter.
‘Yes, that’s fantastic, doctor. Just so long as she is prepared for the planned operation.’
Wenstein looked unsure whether to treat the praise as genuine. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be ready.’
‘Brilliant,’ Preston beamed. ‘I would very much like to meet this individual.’

‘What are you talking about?’
Anton couldn’t mask the shock in his face. His gun now lay dormant at his side.
Korolov sighed, leaning back in his chair, looking exhausted.
‘A few months ago, I uncovered some intel that pointed towards someone in our government working to bring US anti-NEO forces into this country,’ he explained. ‘I’m a shrewd man, Anton, perhaps too shrewd. I wasn’t willing to trust anyone with the information I had, and I didn’t want to take it to the President until I had something concrete.’
‘Surely this is just a misunderstanding then,’ Anton said. ‘Let McArthur take you in, and we can explain everything. We can work together to get Anya and your family back, and expose the men behind this.’
Korolov breathed deeply. ‘If only it were that simple.’
Anton looked at him quizzically, so Korolov went on: ‘A week ago, government agents broke into my home, and raided my office at the Federation. They took everything I had, all the information I had gathered through my investigation-’
‘Hang on, government agents? Dmitri, you are the government!’
‘Not anymore, Anton. As long as they have my family, I’m a lame duck. And I suspect I won’t even have that luxury much longer.’
‘Let me get this straight,’ Anton couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘You’re telling me that our government took your family to keep you quiet, and they’re the ones who have Anya? Dmitri, that’s insane!’
‘Right now, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. But it’s the truth, Anton, I promise you. They took all the evidence I have. But before they got to me, I was able to send one vital piece of data to a contact I have in the US. It was a recording, a phone call made on Andrew Preston’s personal line.’
‘How in the hell did you get your hands on that?’
Korolov almost smiled. ‘My contact... Let’s just say she has her ways.’
Anton nodded. ‘So whoever received the call is the one behind this,’ he stated simply. ‘Who was it, Dmitri?’
Korolov looked hesitant, almost frightened. ‘You wouldn’t believe me...’
‘Dmitri, I promise you can trust me. I’m in the same situation as you,’ Anton reassured him. ‘Tell me who received that call!’
Korolov leant forward, opening his mouth to answer. ‘It was-’
His words were cut off as two bullet holes suddenly appeared in his chest, dark crimson spreading across his torso. The huge man slumped forward, his forehead hitting the oak wood of the desk with a terrible thump.