The Walker Tracking System, Part Twelve
Mrs. Petrelli's sitting room was tastefully decorated and furnished in such a manner as to throw its occupants slightly off-kilter and make them feel inadequate. Most of the chairs were slightly lower than normal, the lighting was harsh and sent long, angular shadows looming across the room. And, worst of all for Appa and I, the tea was a tepid Earl Grey.
Having Appa tell me via Dad why the room felt so off didn’t take away its effects either; every move I made felt clumsy and every noise I uttered seemed far too loud.
"I trust the tea is fine?" Mrs. Petrelli asked.
"Of course," Appa replied with a thinly veiled grimace. Dad and I looked at each other, taking considerably less care to disguise ours; we were completely out of our depth here and we knew it.
I won’t bore you with the details of Appa and Mrs. Petrelli’s very polite pissing contest; suffice it to say that they don’t really get along all that well, and she and Dad outright hate each other. At the end of the day, however, she has the whole of the Company behind her, and even under siege as it was from Adam Monroe’s men, it was still more powerful than my family could have dreamed of becoming.
Actually, now that I think about it, maybe I should add her name to the list of people I can blame for my current predicament. Sylar, for being a murderer, myself, for thinking that I could go through the actions with becoming the person, and Mrs. Petrelli, for pushing me towards those actions.
Except you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead- they can’t redeem themselves. And two years is more than enough time for Mrs. Petrelli’s death to be real to me, unlike Sylar’s, which only happened a week or so ago.
And, besides, I’m the one who killed him. If anyone has the right to trash talk him, it’s me.
Getting back to the subject at hand, though, Mrs. Petrelli was to us like Hitler was to France; we were rather blitzkrieged. What this boiled down to was simple; they had intelligence that suggested that, because of Sylar’s exposure, they were moving up their attack on the Company. To that night. Which, incidentally, was when the FBI was planning to move on Adam’s place. The Company (meaning, Mrs. Petrelli) wasn’t sure whether or not Adam actually knew that last bit of information, but she was going to bet that he did and either had something nasty planned or many more people in the city than she was aware of.
Which is why they needed my fathers; a mind reader would be instrumental to figuring out their plans, Appa’s knowledge of evolved individuals was second only to Adam’s, and the Company had this thing about working in pairs. And me? Well, I was, of course, welcome to stay here in the Petrelli mansion. Simon and Monty would be coming over soon, and they would keep me company. I could even invite some of my other friends if I wanted.
“One of us, one of them. That‘s the way it works,” she said, when Dad and Appa protested that at least one of them should stay with me. “And do you really think there is a place on Earth safer than this house right now? We’ve moved all of our most important equipment and information out of our normal headquarters here, and there are several of our most powerful agents, in addition to our normal security. She‘s better off here than anywhere else.”
And, of course, those same security measure could be used just as effectively to force my parents to comply with Mrs. Petrelli’s demands, and makes my visit there rather unpleasant. They didn’t have a choice really, and so we soon found ourselves saying goodbye in the foyer.
Dad thought to me, as we hugged.
He let out a small sigh.
I suggested.
I thought about it; a night spent playing the Wii with Simon, Monty, and possibly Micah. Eating microwave popcorn and rigging the pay-per-view to give us something R rated, like Independence Day. Chasing each other around with those plastic lightsaber things Monty has coming out the wazoo. Having fun while my parents were in mortal peril.
I thought sullenly.
I was still thinking about trying to have a normal night when I hugged and kissed Appa goodbye, but I was already souring on the idea. As I watched them drive off into the twilight, my thoughts drifted to what they were going to do in a few short hours, what they were facing, and what was facing back at them. By the time I went back inside, I realized something; I’d just managed to lie to my Dad.
I had no intention of play the Wii, or playing anything at all that night. There was no way in hell I was going to spend a second more than necessary doing anything that didn’t involve taking down Adam‘s men. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to do it directly, but I had contacts, actual contact to work with. Granted, one of them was Bennet, and I wasn’t entirely sure if Audrey had actually written down anything useful like her phone number on the piece of paper she‘d given me, but Elle would probably love the whole crazy idea that was forming in my mind, and I knew her cell phone number by heart. I was fairly sure I could convince them not to tell my parents. I could do this on my own if I had to. I-
“Molly,” Mrs. Petrelli called from the sitting room. “Don’t you want to finish your tea?”
-had to look out for the Dragon Lady. Dad was right about one thing; she was evil. She’d eat me and my family alive if I let her. How did Appa deal with her again?
Politely, I reminded myself, as I stepped back into the sitting room. Be polite, and let her do most of the talking, and leave as soon as you can.
I sat back down in my seat, and sipped at my tea, which had gone stone cold at that point.
“You know,” she said, in a much more sympathetic tone of voice than she’d used before. “I do feel bad about sending your parents into harms way.”
I didn’t say anything, opting instead to send her a puzzled look over the rim of the tea cup.
“I understand why they’re so worried about you. It’s one of those parenting things, to worry about how your children would get along if you were to die on the job,” she continued, as though not really speaking to me.
I thought about telling her that hers would probably be better off, but took another sip of tea instead.
“Although it’s not quiet the same thing is it,” she said, looking directly at me for the first time during the conversation. “After all, you’ve survived losing your parents before.”
I blinked, a little surprised and all the much more angry. Why would she even bring that up?
Then it hit me.
Mrs. Petrelli was trying to get me to help coordinate attacks- to use my ability to spy out the layout of the facility.
Or, you know, basically, what I had just decided I was going to do.
I couldn’t help myself, the irony was overwhelming; I burst out laughing. This, needless to say, caused Mrs. Petrelli to look somewhat taken aback.
“I-sorry, I just-” I waved my hand dismissively. “God, I don’t come off as that much of a- I don‘t even know what, but I‘m not like that, seriously.”
Mrs. Petrelli blinked, still unsure where I was going.
“I mean, really,” I continued calming down. “Do you actually think I’m not going to do anything and everything I can to make sure they come out of this alive?”
Mrs. Petrelli raised an eyebrow, “You have a plan then?”
“Yes,” I replied, adding to myself
“Which is?”
“I’m not telling you,” I balked. She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m twelve, Mrs. Petrelli, not stupid. Things you’re involved in tend to turn into intra-Company political dramas.” Or so Appa had always said, when he thought I wasn’t listening. “Although I’m not naïve enough to think that you aren’t going to monitor me, I am naïve enough to think that I can do it without you’re active participation. Ergo, you don’t need to know.”
“So, you’re going to stop Sylar all be yourself?” she asked, sounded torn between amusement and indignity.
“No. I don’t think Sylar will die tonight. I’m just going to focus on trying to scout out the bad guys for the good guys. And, I suppose, you. And, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like Simon, Monty and Micah to help.”
“You’ll need to be able to contact people who are working on site. I doubt your parents would approve, so…”
“I’m kind of assuming that you’ve assigned Bennet and Elle to defending the Company,” I replied. “Seeing as they’re both there and putting on body armor, and all.”
“And storming Adam’s headquarters?”
“I have someone in the FBI,” I answered, trying to sound like I was positive Audrey would follow my directions. Or even hear me out without immediately calling my Dad. Judging by the way her lip twitched, I wasn’t entirely successful. I was suddenly struck by how absurd the situation was; here I was, Molly, pre-teen clairvoyant, trying to intimidate the Dragon Lady. “Don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said, in a way that was sophisticatedly patronizing, but still had that underlining feeling of ‘duh’ in it. “I assume that your plan includes said agents reporting the FBI’s activities back to me.”
“Originally, it hadn’t. But I’m willing to work it in,” I retorted.
“Good. Flexibility is important in these things,” she rose regally, placing her now-empty teacup on the table. “I will be monitoring you. For curiosity’s sake, more than anything else, I’ll let you try it your way. But if things begin to deteriorate, I will step in. Clear.”
“Crystal,” I replied, trying to rise with the same poise and almost tripping over my own feet; I had just entered my lanky phase, and all of my limbs seemed to be slightly longer than I recalled them being before.
“And Molly? A word of advice,” she added. “Binding yourself to young men doesn’t work out well. In any manner.”
I tried to keep the disgusted look off my face, and may have almost succeeded. “Thank you?”
“You’re quite welcome,” she gestured to the door. I power-walked (because running would be undignified) out of it, almost colliding with Simon as he and Monty walked into the foyer.
~*~
Half an hour later found us gathered in a semicircle on the floor of Simon’s room. His TV was turned to a local news station that was promising to report on ‘a federal sting operation of the highest importance’ as soon as the information became less classified. Micah hunched over his laptop, hacking into security cameras and whatnot. I was programming my cell phone with Audrey’s number. Monty was off to the side, a little apart from the group, looking slightly uncomfortable. He was the only one in the room who hadn’t manifested yet, although Appa had tested him for the genetic marker and found him to be a match. Most people don’t manifest until their late twenties, sometimes even later, he had consoled him. The three of us were simply a little ahead of the curve, he had plenty of time to catch up. That didn’t change the fact that he was the only kid in the room who didn’t have superpowers.
Sometimes, I felt like taking him aside and telling him that having powers wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Even without the whole ‘great responsibility’ thing, sometimes your power turned out to be not all that cool. I mean, the word ‘clairvoyant’ sort of bought to mind some ugly old woman who was a telephone psychic. Not exactly something awesome, like being able to talk to machines, control people’s minds, walk up walls, time travel, or shoot lightning bolts out of your fingers.
But I digress. He manifested later that night, anyway.
“You sure you don’t want me to get rid of the bugs?” Micah whispered.
“I’m sure. The Dragon Lady will just come charging in here and take over that way,” I replied, not bothering to keep my voice down. Next to me, Simon frowned.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I scoffed. “Your grandmother’s evil, and you know it.”
“She’s not evil, she’s just…morally grey,” he protested half-heartedly.
I opened my mouth to retort, but Micah intervened. “Why don’t we get started?”
“Right,” I muttered, suddenly nervous. “Checklist?”
“I’m into both the FBI and the Company’s security systems. Just let me know which group you’re with, and I’ll keep an eye on the other one.”
“We have popcorn, soda, and about ten pounds of chocolate. We could survive the zombie apocalypse in here,” Simon bragged.
“Micah still has to fiddle with your cell phone,” Monty pointed out. I handed said device over to said technopath, who closed his eyes and concentrated.
“Okay, done. You should be able to have live rotating contact with anyone you call and anyone who calls you,” he said, handing the phone back to me. “The setup is somewhat similar to Windows, only without the bugs. Sorry it‘s not a Mac.”
“Thanks,” I replied, not really getting the whole Mac/PC thing.
“So, what exactly are we doing here again?” Simon asked.
“Well, basically, we spy on the battle, and let the good guys know what’s happening- what the layout is, which bad guys are around, what their supplies are like…”
“You know that cheat in Warcraft that lets you see the entire map? That’s us,” Micah clarified.
“Well, yeah, I gathered that that’s what you two are doing,” Simon said. “But what about the two of us?”
“We’re the interns,” Monty snorted. “They get hungry or tired, we bring them food and caffeine. And we keep an eye on what the paparazzi are saying about us.”
“You could go play the Wii all night if you prefer,” I retorted. Monty opened his mouth to argue, but Micah cut him off.
“You’re the backup. Molly isn’t used to astral projecting herself for hours at a time, and I’ve been known to sleep myself occasionally. One of us gets tired, one of you takes over either looking at the computer screens or talking to the grown-ups.”
Simon seemed to take that version of the truth fairly well. Monty perked up slightly.
“Right, so,” I said awkwardly. “Let’s do it.”
“Hey!” Simon protested.
“What?” I asked.
“We’re just about to help the freakin’ FBI foil a team of supervillians in their mad quest to take over the world-”
“Or, you know, destroy the Company,” I interrupted him.
“- and you, O Fearless Leader,” he continued, as though I hadn’t said a word. “Want to begin with the words ‘Let’s do it’? Could you be a little less simple, please.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re scouts, Si. Not SG-1.”
Simon raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, fine: Let's think the unthinkable, let's do the undoable, let's prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all. Or so said Douglas Adams.”
Simon grinned. “Now that’s more like it.”
“Okay then, now let’s do it!” I said, closing my eyes against his groans.
The first person I found was Audrey- who was, unfortunately for me, talking with my Dad at the time.
“She wants to help people- there’s nothing wrong with that.” Audrey was saying. “She could be a hero, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dad huffed bitterly. “I’d rather she just be a normal twelve-year-old kid though. Worry about her hair or boys, even, rather than the man her murdered her first parents.”
I snapped away from Audrey and moved onto Bennet.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he was saying, to a dark-skinned man I didn’t recognize.
“We can’t let these sorts of people take over the facility,” the dark man replied ominously.
“Which group are we talking about again?”
Obviously, not a good time to intrude. I moved on to Elle.
She was alone, leaning against a brick wall on the outside of Company headquarters, looking bored.
I opened my eyes and reached for my cell phone, dialing her number and setting it on speakerphone.
“Hey Elle? It’s Molly. How would you like another shot at Sylar tonight?”
~*~
Link to the next part is here.