The Crucible of Fear part 6
This is part 6 of my fic challenge.
The usual yadda yadda applies. I don't own the characters, I don't own the movie, I don't own the comic, I don't make any profit off this.
Rated PG
PART 6
Squeezing the walker talker tightly in his hand, Quatermain sighed. Majeel had placed Sawyer under protection, and it would only be common sense to have the boy go with him as backup, so why did he leave his protege behind? Was it because of pride once again? The great Allan Quatermain could handle any challenge placed before him? The explorer shook his head. No, he was too old and tired to believe that anymore. Life had shown him over and over that he was vulnerable...just like anyone else.
Deep down he knew the real reason he didn’t take the boy along; fear, plain and simple. He was afraid of Sawyer finding out about his inner qualms of caring for another life, having the responsibility placed upon his already burdened shoulders. Fear of allowing his protege to take Harry’s place in this world, and absolving himself of the guilt over his son’s death.
Damn all the heavy thinking! Fear wasn’t in his vocabulary.
Glancing back down at Nemo’s invention, the adventurer pushed on the button, feeling awkward as he spoke into it, but feeling compelled to just the same. He was in too deep now to pretend he didn’t care. “Has Thomas been checked over?”
Nemo’s rich baritone sounded over the device. “Yes, it’s nothing serious. He might have some uncomfortable headaches for a couple of days.”
Grateful nothing major was ailing his surrogate son, Allan gave one last command. “Make sure the lad rests after Sir Henry is out of danger.”
“That deed will be accomplished faster when you return,” Nemo countered.
Unsure how to end the conversation, Quatermain shrugged. Goodbye didn’t seem right.... “Quatermain’s done,” he muttered sheepishly into the speaker.
“Nemo out.”
“Hmmmm....rather catchy.”
A chuckle sounded on the walker talker before the communication ended.
Bending down, the hunter found the big prints left by Twazul’s expensive, tailored shoes. From the way the mystic dressed, he liked the finer things of British society. Maybe so much that he would stay at the fanciest hotel in London. The idea rang inside the explorer’s head like a bell, and picking out the newer tracks of a carriage, Quatermain knew his hunch was right. The trail was leading straight into London’s richer side of town.
Shouldering Matilda over his right shoulder, Allan pressed onward. “Come on, Skinner,” he called out.
“How did you know?” the rogue answered in disbelief. He made very sure he wasn’t making any sounds to be detected.
“I know Thomas,” Quatermain rolled his eyes.
Hurrying to catch up to his leader, the invisible rogue laughed. “Guess you’re right there. Seems he’s as worried about you as you are about him.”
“I’m a big, old boy, and can take care of myself,” Allan muttered as he continued his journey down the road.
“But shouldn’t Tom go? He has the best chance of facing Twazul. We could still be put under his mind control, or the people he has under it could be used against us.”
“I fought his control,” the hunter admitted. “Damn hard too, but....”
“A certain American Secret Service Agent got through that thick skull?” Rodney finished.
“Remember what I said earlier about pissing me off,” Allan warned without his usual bite. As they neared the city limits, Quatermain hailed a cab, instructing the driver to take them to the ritziest hotel in London.
Stepping out of the carriage, Skinner chuckled to himself as he stared up at the magnificent structure. “I sure do have some fond memories of this place.”
“Just keep your hands to yourself,” Allan threatened, going through the revolving doors and into elaborately gilded lobby. The adventurer scowled at the over extravagance. He preferred the simpler way of life back in Africa.
“Mr. Twazul will see you in his suite,” the desk clerk informed the stunned League members as they strolled up closer. “You must leave your weapons here, Mr. Quatermain.”
Allan nodded, complying with the mastermind’s wishes. The fact the mystic knew he was coming unnerved the explorer a bit, but he had beat him before, and he could do it again. Walking into the glass elevator, Quatermain deliberately kept his mind thinking he was doing this solo, not wanting Skinner’s presence discovered.
Twazul greeted the renowned adventurer when the door opened on the top floor, his tall, muscular figure garbed in a robe of the finest silk imported from Japan. “Greetings Mr. Quatermain,” he spoke in a amiable tone, looking past Allan. “Hello to you as well, Mr. Skinner.” He smiled broadly at the disappointment that flashed through the hunter’s mind.
“Please, feel free to enjoy my hospitality,” Twazul gestured towards his room, acting more like a gracious host than a cold blooded fiend.
“Why do I feel like I just walked into a spider’s web?” Skinner said out loud.
“Oh you have,” Twazul admitted. He turned to Quatermain. “I find it amusing how you think you’re protecting the American...once again allowing your pride to get in the way.”
“You better not lay a hand on him again!” Allan thrusted himself in front of the mystic’s face.
“I can’t, remember?” Twazul baited his enemy.
“Well, you tried, and your damn spy was killed.”
“I know, but I can hurt the boy through other means.” The dark brown eyes took on a sinister glow as he stared at his prey.
“Who....who told you....those...bloody awful...lies?” Sir Henry demanded as angrily as he could, bolting up in the bed after Sawyer had recounted some of the tales he had read from a magazine about King Solomon’s Mines. The nobleman was plied with water and broth soon after, much to relief of most the household.
At first surprised, Tom smiled down at the older man. “Allan said that tellin’ those stories would get you riled up.”
“And you are?” Sir Henry asked, taking in the blonde youth.
“He’s Allan’s Thomas,” Captain Good supplied, patting his old friend on the arm in relief. He and Sawyer had spent the better part of the late afternoon talking to Sir Henry, begging him to return to them, but when the American started to recite those outlandish tales... Good could see the anger flash in those otherwise impassive eyes.
Sir Henry became animated. “The Thomas?” he asked his friend. Receiving a nod, the aristocrat shook the spy’s hand warmly. “You certainly keep our old companion on his toes,” the man joked, happy to be among the living once again.
One sandy brow raised in question. “What did Allan exactly say about me?”
The two old men exchanged mischievous glances. “Oh, enough,” Good smiled politely.
Watching the long time friends comfort each other, the agent inched back, not wanting to intrude. He was just relieved the nobleman was all right. Excusing himself, Tom hurried to find the others. Sir Henry was out of danger, so maybe now he could try to find Allan.
As he descended the staircase, the spy felt a slight dizziness hit him. He had pushed the growing headache aside, only focusing on getting Sir Henry to awake, but now the unsuspecting blow his kidnaper had given him was making it’s presence known. Clutching the railing tightly, he allowed the spell to pass before continuing.
“I knew you weren’t well,” Dorian hissed at the bottom of the stairs, witnessing the agent’s moment of unsteadiness. “Are you trying to kill yourself? Get down here, and stay down here.” Giving a snort of disgust, the immortal climbed the stairs himself, grabbing one of Sawyer’s arms to lead him down.
“Jekyll!” Gray bellowed, causing Tom to shrink back in pain.
Dr. Jekyll hurried into the main hall, his face anxious. “Is anything wrong?”
“This fool almost fell down the stairs.”
“I’m fine,” Tom began to protest, but it was pointless.
“Your eyes were nearly crossing, your face turned white, and you almost lost your balance.... Of course you’re fine,” Gray frowned. “How many times do I have to remind you that both our futures depend on you?”
“Don’t be gettin’ all mushy on me, Gray,” Tom shot back snidely, “or I might start bawlin’.”
Seeing the pain shadowing the American’s eyes, Henry shook his head. “You need to go lie down a bit.”
“I will, as soon as we take care of Twazul.”
“You are not fit to challenge him in your condition,” Nemo said, coming into the room. “A bit of rest might do some good.”
“But....” Sawyer rolled his eyes. Didn’t they understand? What if Allan needed him?
“If Allan should call, we will alert you,” Nemo assured his young friend. “There’s a room on the ground floor that you can sleep in....”
“I have to be alert! Even if you woke me up, I’ll still be groggy....”
“Allan said himself he wanted you to rest after Sir Henry awoke,” the captain said sternly.
“Allan called? When? Is he all right? Where is he?” As Sawyer inundated Nemo with questions, the Indian and Dr. Jekyll inched the spy towards the small room that was off the study.
“I don’t want to lie down,” Tom protested vigorously. “I know you mean well, but I can’t!”
“Just relax on the settee, and I’ll answer your questions the best I can,” Nemo bribed, hoping to at least get the youth to relax.
“Can I have the walkin’ talker too?” the blonde agent asked. “That way if Allan calls....”
Exchanging a look with Nemo, Henry sighed heavily. “Let him have it. It’s the only way to get him to cooperate.”
Nemo held the gadget out, but pulled it out of Sawyer’s reach before the spy could grasp it. “You lie down first.”
Throwing his hands up, the secret service agent agreed, reluctantly following the captain into the extra room. As he laid his head down on a make-shift pillow made of blankets, Tom exhaled in contentment. It felt like heaven to close his eyes, which relieved some of the pain and pressure. Okay, maybe he would relax...a little.
Nemo watched Sawyer’s breathing even out, the face becoming more calm as the young man dozed. Gently placing the portable transistor near Tom’s hand, the Indian captain took the remaining blanket and covered the boy, careful not to rouse him.
“You have kept your bargain, I shall keep mine,” he smiled under his heavy, dark beard.
“We ain’t falling for your games again, Twazul,” Quatermain said, itching to beat the man’s head in. “If I even suspect you are harming that boy....”
“But you wait for information before destroying me?” Twazul teased, reading the adventurer’s mind. “Please, both of you sit, and I will be glad to tell you of the future.”
“I’d rather stand, thank you,” Rodney replied dryly, keeping himself near the door.
Twazul shrugged his broad shoulders. “As you wish. Where would you like me to begin?”
“The ‘why’ would be nice.”
“Shut up, Skinner,” Allan groused in the invisible man’s direction. “We already know that.”
“Or so you think,” the mystic smiled. “Majeel thinks it’s revenge against you for Gagool’s death. I never knew the woman personally, but I do know she wasted what talent she had serving that fool, King Twala. I am stronger, smarter, and more than willing to destroy whatever stands in my way.”
“What is your true goal in all of this if it isn’t for revenge?” Quatermain snapped. “And why punish innocent Britons who’ve done nothing to you.”
“Oh it’s revenge all right, and everyone one of those imperialist will pay for trying to enslave Africa!” Twazul shook his fist in anger. “I only need money, and my relative’s killers was a natural starting point to collect from.”
“We didn’t kill her,” Allan frowned. “She did herself in by trying to kill us.”
“Let’s not go into ancient history,” the African witch doctor grinned. “As if I truly care.”
“Just how did you expect to get away with stealing Allan’s, Sir Henry’s, and Captain Good’s fortunes?” Skinner couldn’t help but scoff. “Sure, you use the heirs to make the transition, but ain’t someone going to get curious after you get three of them?”
“It won’t matter. Once I get the money, I won’t have to worry about anyone in Britain worrying about anything.”
Horrified at the bold confession, Allan shook himself, knowing more than ever he had to end this now. Rushing at the mystic, the adventurer found himself frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.
“I’m too powerful,” Twazul taunted. “You may have beat my mind control back at Sir Henry’s castle, but my power increases over my prey when face to face.”
“Ah hell...,” Skinner groaned when the realization hit him that they had just done what the African mystic wanted....walked willingly into his control.
Sawyer stirred when he heard the voice come over the walking talker. Was it Allan? Instantly popping up, the agent regretting the move, his head screaming at him in protest. His discomfort didn’t matter as he picked up the portable transistor.
“Allan?” Tom cried into the device, his anxiety growing. “Can you hear me?”
“He can hear you quite well, little one, but he can’t answer you back. I’ve forbidden it.”
“Allan! Fight it!” Sawyer yelled into the walking talker, drawing the attention of the other League members. “Please! Fight it!”
Twazul watched in fury as the hunter began to stir, his eyes showing a spark of resistance. He had to do something about this boy.... Using up more of his mental power, the African was able to subdue Quatermain briefly.
“You will come to visit me,” Twazul demanded through the apparatus. “At the Golden Arms in London...alone.” His message delivered, he threw Nemo’s invention to the ground and smashed it with a fire poker.
An awful crackling noise was heard on the other end, sending a cold dread racing down the young man’s spine. Collecting his thoughts, Sawyer flew off the settee, and was stopped by Nemo’s body blocking the doorway.
“What is it?”
“Allan...Skinner...they’re in trouble!” Tom said as he pushed himself past the captain. “I have to find them!”
“We will come with you,” Nemo offered, following his younger friend.
“Twazul said alone,” Sawyer frowned, giving the other members a sad glance. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt me.” The hazel eyes took on a hard look as he thought about the evil Twazul had done and was still planning. He almost told his teammates of his plans, but stopped himself, recognizing they could be gleaned for information.
“You can’t go alone, Tom,” Mina protested, rising from her chair. “It’s probably a trap.”
“I have to. He can’t do nothin’ to me, but he can do plenty to Skinner and Allan.” Assuring his unusual family that he would be fine, the blonde spy hurried out the door to Nemo’s car, speeding towards London.
The usual yadda yadda applies. I don't own the characters, I don't own the movie, I don't own the comic, I don't make any profit off this.
Rated PG
PART 6
Squeezing the walker talker tightly in his hand, Quatermain sighed. Majeel had placed Sawyer under protection, and it would only be common sense to have the boy go with him as backup, so why did he leave his protege behind? Was it because of pride once again? The great Allan Quatermain could handle any challenge placed before him? The explorer shook his head. No, he was too old and tired to believe that anymore. Life had shown him over and over that he was vulnerable...just like anyone else.
Deep down he knew the real reason he didn’t take the boy along; fear, plain and simple. He was afraid of Sawyer finding out about his inner qualms of caring for another life, having the responsibility placed upon his already burdened shoulders. Fear of allowing his protege to take Harry’s place in this world, and absolving himself of the guilt over his son’s death.
Damn all the heavy thinking! Fear wasn’t in his vocabulary.
Glancing back down at Nemo’s invention, the adventurer pushed on the button, feeling awkward as he spoke into it, but feeling compelled to just the same. He was in too deep now to pretend he didn’t care. “Has Thomas been checked over?”
Nemo’s rich baritone sounded over the device. “Yes, it’s nothing serious. He might have some uncomfortable headaches for a couple of days.”
Grateful nothing major was ailing his surrogate son, Allan gave one last command. “Make sure the lad rests after Sir Henry is out of danger.”
“That deed will be accomplished faster when you return,” Nemo countered.
Unsure how to end the conversation, Quatermain shrugged. Goodbye didn’t seem right.... “Quatermain’s done,” he muttered sheepishly into the speaker.
“Nemo out.”
“Hmmmm....rather catchy.”
A chuckle sounded on the walker talker before the communication ended.
Bending down, the hunter found the big prints left by Twazul’s expensive, tailored shoes. From the way the mystic dressed, he liked the finer things of British society. Maybe so much that he would stay at the fanciest hotel in London. The idea rang inside the explorer’s head like a bell, and picking out the newer tracks of a carriage, Quatermain knew his hunch was right. The trail was leading straight into London’s richer side of town.
Shouldering Matilda over his right shoulder, Allan pressed onward. “Come on, Skinner,” he called out.
“How did you know?” the rogue answered in disbelief. He made very sure he wasn’t making any sounds to be detected.
“I know Thomas,” Quatermain rolled his eyes.
Hurrying to catch up to his leader, the invisible rogue laughed. “Guess you’re right there. Seems he’s as worried about you as you are about him.”
“I’m a big, old boy, and can take care of myself,” Allan muttered as he continued his journey down the road.
“But shouldn’t Tom go? He has the best chance of facing Twazul. We could still be put under his mind control, or the people he has under it could be used against us.”
“I fought his control,” the hunter admitted. “Damn hard too, but....”
“A certain American Secret Service Agent got through that thick skull?” Rodney finished.
“Remember what I said earlier about pissing me off,” Allan warned without his usual bite. As they neared the city limits, Quatermain hailed a cab, instructing the driver to take them to the ritziest hotel in London.
Stepping out of the carriage, Skinner chuckled to himself as he stared up at the magnificent structure. “I sure do have some fond memories of this place.”
“Just keep your hands to yourself,” Allan threatened, going through the revolving doors and into elaborately gilded lobby. The adventurer scowled at the over extravagance. He preferred the simpler way of life back in Africa.
“Mr. Twazul will see you in his suite,” the desk clerk informed the stunned League members as they strolled up closer. “You must leave your weapons here, Mr. Quatermain.”
Allan nodded, complying with the mastermind’s wishes. The fact the mystic knew he was coming unnerved the explorer a bit, but he had beat him before, and he could do it again. Walking into the glass elevator, Quatermain deliberately kept his mind thinking he was doing this solo, not wanting Skinner’s presence discovered.
Twazul greeted the renowned adventurer when the door opened on the top floor, his tall, muscular figure garbed in a robe of the finest silk imported from Japan. “Greetings Mr. Quatermain,” he spoke in a amiable tone, looking past Allan. “Hello to you as well, Mr. Skinner.” He smiled broadly at the disappointment that flashed through the hunter’s mind.
“Please, feel free to enjoy my hospitality,” Twazul gestured towards his room, acting more like a gracious host than a cold blooded fiend.
“Why do I feel like I just walked into a spider’s web?” Skinner said out loud.
“Oh you have,” Twazul admitted. He turned to Quatermain. “I find it amusing how you think you’re protecting the American...once again allowing your pride to get in the way.”
“You better not lay a hand on him again!” Allan thrusted himself in front of the mystic’s face.
“I can’t, remember?” Twazul baited his enemy.
“Well, you tried, and your damn spy was killed.”
“I know, but I can hurt the boy through other means.” The dark brown eyes took on a sinister glow as he stared at his prey.
“Who....who told you....those...bloody awful...lies?” Sir Henry demanded as angrily as he could, bolting up in the bed after Sawyer had recounted some of the tales he had read from a magazine about King Solomon’s Mines. The nobleman was plied with water and broth soon after, much to relief of most the household.
At first surprised, Tom smiled down at the older man. “Allan said that tellin’ those stories would get you riled up.”
“And you are?” Sir Henry asked, taking in the blonde youth.
“He’s Allan’s Thomas,” Captain Good supplied, patting his old friend on the arm in relief. He and Sawyer had spent the better part of the late afternoon talking to Sir Henry, begging him to return to them, but when the American started to recite those outlandish tales... Good could see the anger flash in those otherwise impassive eyes.
Sir Henry became animated. “The Thomas?” he asked his friend. Receiving a nod, the aristocrat shook the spy’s hand warmly. “You certainly keep our old companion on his toes,” the man joked, happy to be among the living once again.
One sandy brow raised in question. “What did Allan exactly say about me?”
The two old men exchanged mischievous glances. “Oh, enough,” Good smiled politely.
Watching the long time friends comfort each other, the agent inched back, not wanting to intrude. He was just relieved the nobleman was all right. Excusing himself, Tom hurried to find the others. Sir Henry was out of danger, so maybe now he could try to find Allan.
As he descended the staircase, the spy felt a slight dizziness hit him. He had pushed the growing headache aside, only focusing on getting Sir Henry to awake, but now the unsuspecting blow his kidnaper had given him was making it’s presence known. Clutching the railing tightly, he allowed the spell to pass before continuing.
“I knew you weren’t well,” Dorian hissed at the bottom of the stairs, witnessing the agent’s moment of unsteadiness. “Are you trying to kill yourself? Get down here, and stay down here.” Giving a snort of disgust, the immortal climbed the stairs himself, grabbing one of Sawyer’s arms to lead him down.
“Jekyll!” Gray bellowed, causing Tom to shrink back in pain.
Dr. Jekyll hurried into the main hall, his face anxious. “Is anything wrong?”
“This fool almost fell down the stairs.”
“I’m fine,” Tom began to protest, but it was pointless.
“Your eyes were nearly crossing, your face turned white, and you almost lost your balance.... Of course you’re fine,” Gray frowned. “How many times do I have to remind you that both our futures depend on you?”
“Don’t be gettin’ all mushy on me, Gray,” Tom shot back snidely, “or I might start bawlin’.”
Seeing the pain shadowing the American’s eyes, Henry shook his head. “You need to go lie down a bit.”
“I will, as soon as we take care of Twazul.”
“You are not fit to challenge him in your condition,” Nemo said, coming into the room. “A bit of rest might do some good.”
“But....” Sawyer rolled his eyes. Didn’t they understand? What if Allan needed him?
“If Allan should call, we will alert you,” Nemo assured his young friend. “There’s a room on the ground floor that you can sleep in....”
“I have to be alert! Even if you woke me up, I’ll still be groggy....”
“Allan said himself he wanted you to rest after Sir Henry awoke,” the captain said sternly.
“Allan called? When? Is he all right? Where is he?” As Sawyer inundated Nemo with questions, the Indian and Dr. Jekyll inched the spy towards the small room that was off the study.
“I don’t want to lie down,” Tom protested vigorously. “I know you mean well, but I can’t!”
“Just relax on the settee, and I’ll answer your questions the best I can,” Nemo bribed, hoping to at least get the youth to relax.
“Can I have the walkin’ talker too?” the blonde agent asked. “That way if Allan calls....”
Exchanging a look with Nemo, Henry sighed heavily. “Let him have it. It’s the only way to get him to cooperate.”
Nemo held the gadget out, but pulled it out of Sawyer’s reach before the spy could grasp it. “You lie down first.”
Throwing his hands up, the secret service agent agreed, reluctantly following the captain into the extra room. As he laid his head down on a make-shift pillow made of blankets, Tom exhaled in contentment. It felt like heaven to close his eyes, which relieved some of the pain and pressure. Okay, maybe he would relax...a little.
Nemo watched Sawyer’s breathing even out, the face becoming more calm as the young man dozed. Gently placing the portable transistor near Tom’s hand, the Indian captain took the remaining blanket and covered the boy, careful not to rouse him.
“You have kept your bargain, I shall keep mine,” he smiled under his heavy, dark beard.
“We ain’t falling for your games again, Twazul,” Quatermain said, itching to beat the man’s head in. “If I even suspect you are harming that boy....”
“But you wait for information before destroying me?” Twazul teased, reading the adventurer’s mind. “Please, both of you sit, and I will be glad to tell you of the future.”
“I’d rather stand, thank you,” Rodney replied dryly, keeping himself near the door.
Twazul shrugged his broad shoulders. “As you wish. Where would you like me to begin?”
“The ‘why’ would be nice.”
“Shut up, Skinner,” Allan groused in the invisible man’s direction. “We already know that.”
“Or so you think,” the mystic smiled. “Majeel thinks it’s revenge against you for Gagool’s death. I never knew the woman personally, but I do know she wasted what talent she had serving that fool, King Twala. I am stronger, smarter, and more than willing to destroy whatever stands in my way.”
“What is your true goal in all of this if it isn’t for revenge?” Quatermain snapped. “And why punish innocent Britons who’ve done nothing to you.”
“Oh it’s revenge all right, and everyone one of those imperialist will pay for trying to enslave Africa!” Twazul shook his fist in anger. “I only need money, and my relative’s killers was a natural starting point to collect from.”
“We didn’t kill her,” Allan frowned. “She did herself in by trying to kill us.”
“Let’s not go into ancient history,” the African witch doctor grinned. “As if I truly care.”
“Just how did you expect to get away with stealing Allan’s, Sir Henry’s, and Captain Good’s fortunes?” Skinner couldn’t help but scoff. “Sure, you use the heirs to make the transition, but ain’t someone going to get curious after you get three of them?”
“It won’t matter. Once I get the money, I won’t have to worry about anyone in Britain worrying about anything.”
Horrified at the bold confession, Allan shook himself, knowing more than ever he had to end this now. Rushing at the mystic, the adventurer found himself frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.
“I’m too powerful,” Twazul taunted. “You may have beat my mind control back at Sir Henry’s castle, but my power increases over my prey when face to face.”
“Ah hell...,” Skinner groaned when the realization hit him that they had just done what the African mystic wanted....walked willingly into his control.
Sawyer stirred when he heard the voice come over the walking talker. Was it Allan? Instantly popping up, the agent regretting the move, his head screaming at him in protest. His discomfort didn’t matter as he picked up the portable transistor.
“Allan?” Tom cried into the device, his anxiety growing. “Can you hear me?”
“He can hear you quite well, little one, but he can’t answer you back. I’ve forbidden it.”
“Allan! Fight it!” Sawyer yelled into the walking talker, drawing the attention of the other League members. “Please! Fight it!”
Twazul watched in fury as the hunter began to stir, his eyes showing a spark of resistance. He had to do something about this boy.... Using up more of his mental power, the African was able to subdue Quatermain briefly.
“You will come to visit me,” Twazul demanded through the apparatus. “At the Golden Arms in London...alone.” His message delivered, he threw Nemo’s invention to the ground and smashed it with a fire poker.
An awful crackling noise was heard on the other end, sending a cold dread racing down the young man’s spine. Collecting his thoughts, Sawyer flew off the settee, and was stopped by Nemo’s body blocking the doorway.
“What is it?”
“Allan...Skinner...they’re in trouble!” Tom said as he pushed himself past the captain. “I have to find them!”
“We will come with you,” Nemo offered, following his younger friend.
“Twazul said alone,” Sawyer frowned, giving the other members a sad glance. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt me.” The hazel eyes took on a hard look as he thought about the evil Twazul had done and was still planning. He almost told his teammates of his plans, but stopped himself, recognizing they could be gleaned for information.
“You can’t go alone, Tom,” Mina protested, rising from her chair. “It’s probably a trap.”
“I have to. He can’t do nothin’ to me, but he can do plenty to Skinner and Allan.” Assuring his unusual family that he would be fine, the blonde spy hurried out the door to Nemo’s car, speeding towards London.