!Friday Snippet from GeonnCannon
This is the first little section of my story's subplot. The pertinent information considering Helen's plot is all spelled out, and I think this will be enough to get people anxious for the rest of the story. I hope. Possibly. We'll see. ;-D
His apartment was the first one at the top of the stairs, on the second floor. He held the key in his right hand, but he paused before unlocking the door. He stood completely still and listened, tilting his head first to one side and then the other. He forced his mind to let Helen's security go for a moment so he could address the problem at hand with a clear head.
One scratch on the doorknob, near the keyhole.
He stared at the scratch for a moment, certain it hadn't been there before, and carefully unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped into the apartment. It had come sparsely furnished, with a single armchair, a desk, and a standing lamp in one corner. It wasn't a place to live in, so there weren't any knickknacks to have been disturbed. James closed the door and dropped the keys onto the desk. The noise they made was unbelievably loud in the small apartment, his eyes scanning the small space as if someone could have hidden in it.
James took one step toward the kitchen, the stirrup of his exoskeleton clunking on the hardwood. He heard a noise behind him and acted on instinct. He twisted at the waist and swung his arm up to hold off the attack even as his mind rebelled at what was happening. John Druitt swept James' arm aside without effort, his other hand stabbing forward at James' neck. James jerked back to avoid the blow as John vanished once more.
James lunged for the door, but John was too fast for him. He reappeared behind James, grabbed the shoulders of his coat, and threw him into the mostly-empty living room. James hit the ground with a mechanical clatter, growled, and struggled to get to his feet. John crossed the room in two easy strides, placed his foot on James' hand, and stomped it down to the floor.
"Hello, James. My goodness, it has been a while, hasn't it?"
His voice was eerily calm, like the sound of the bogeyman luring a child into the darkness of the closet. James glared up at him, baring his teeth.
"You're not welcome here, Druitt."
"Is that any way to treat an old school chum?" He moved his foot from James' hand, bent at the waist, and hauled him onto his feet. He spun around, swinging James like a child dancing with a rag doll. James cried out as he was slammed against the wall, the framework that provided him with life pressing painfully against his joints.
John closed in, his face inches from James'. His skin seemed to burn, the heat radiating between them until sweat beaded on James' forehead. John's fingers tightened in the cloth, and James felt his feet leaving the ground. When John spoke, his voice was still singsong and carefree.
"I heard a rumor. A dangerous mission being planned at the Berlin Sanctuary. Helen Magnus was going over the Berlin Wall." He smiled and turned his head so that James was looking into his eyes. "And who else but her dear, loyal James Watson would be helping her?" He pulled James away from the wall only to slam him against it again. The music left his voice as he leaned in closer. "I was too late to prevent this travesty from happening, and now Helen is trapped, in East Germany, with no way out."
"You underestimate her, John." James' voice was trembling, his fear evident. He couldn't put on a brave face, couldn't pretend like he was anything less than terrified of this man. John Druitt, who had done so many horrible things to the only woman James had ever loved. John Druitt, who had turned from a beloved classmate into an unrepentant monster.
"Perhaps so." John lowered James again, keeping him against the wall with one hand. With the other, he began violently undoing the buttons of James' shirt. "But just in case, you and I are not going to leave this room until Helen is safely back within West Germany. When I am certain she's safe... so shall you be."
James looked down as his shirt sagged open, and John examined the face of the device. "You've made adjustments, I see." He gently touched part of the machine, running his finger over the metal in an almost loving manner. James shivered.
"The most foolish thing you ever did, Dr. Watson, was ensuring your trusted classmates knew how to provide maintenance to this device. Nikola provided the initial sketches, and you and Helen... heads together over the laboratory table... designing the prototype. And then painstakingly teaching Nigel and myself what to do if anything ever went wrong. But how could you have known what the future held? Even with your brilliance, you still couldn't see the future."
His apartment was the first one at the top of the stairs, on the second floor. He held the key in his right hand, but he paused before unlocking the door. He stood completely still and listened, tilting his head first to one side and then the other. He forced his mind to let Helen's security go for a moment so he could address the problem at hand with a clear head.
One scratch on the doorknob, near the keyhole.
He stared at the scratch for a moment, certain it hadn't been there before, and carefully unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped into the apartment. It had come sparsely furnished, with a single armchair, a desk, and a standing lamp in one corner. It wasn't a place to live in, so there weren't any knickknacks to have been disturbed. James closed the door and dropped the keys onto the desk. The noise they made was unbelievably loud in the small apartment, his eyes scanning the small space as if someone could have hidden in it.
James took one step toward the kitchen, the stirrup of his exoskeleton clunking on the hardwood. He heard a noise behind him and acted on instinct. He twisted at the waist and swung his arm up to hold off the attack even as his mind rebelled at what was happening. John Druitt swept James' arm aside without effort, his other hand stabbing forward at James' neck. James jerked back to avoid the blow as John vanished once more.
James lunged for the door, but John was too fast for him. He reappeared behind James, grabbed the shoulders of his coat, and threw him into the mostly-empty living room. James hit the ground with a mechanical clatter, growled, and struggled to get to his feet. John crossed the room in two easy strides, placed his foot on James' hand, and stomped it down to the floor.
"Hello, James. My goodness, it has been a while, hasn't it?"
His voice was eerily calm, like the sound of the bogeyman luring a child into the darkness of the closet. James glared up at him, baring his teeth.
"You're not welcome here, Druitt."
"Is that any way to treat an old school chum?" He moved his foot from James' hand, bent at the waist, and hauled him onto his feet. He spun around, swinging James like a child dancing with a rag doll. James cried out as he was slammed against the wall, the framework that provided him with life pressing painfully against his joints.
John closed in, his face inches from James'. His skin seemed to burn, the heat radiating between them until sweat beaded on James' forehead. John's fingers tightened in the cloth, and James felt his feet leaving the ground. When John spoke, his voice was still singsong and carefree.
"I heard a rumor. A dangerous mission being planned at the Berlin Sanctuary. Helen Magnus was going over the Berlin Wall." He smiled and turned his head so that James was looking into his eyes. "And who else but her dear, loyal James Watson would be helping her?" He pulled James away from the wall only to slam him against it again. The music left his voice as he leaned in closer. "I was too late to prevent this travesty from happening, and now Helen is trapped, in East Germany, with no way out."
"You underestimate her, John." James' voice was trembling, his fear evident. He couldn't put on a brave face, couldn't pretend like he was anything less than terrified of this man. John Druitt, who had done so many horrible things to the only woman James had ever loved. John Druitt, who had turned from a beloved classmate into an unrepentant monster.
"Perhaps so." John lowered James again, keeping him against the wall with one hand. With the other, he began violently undoing the buttons of James' shirt. "But just in case, you and I are not going to leave this room until Helen is safely back within West Germany. When I am certain she's safe... so shall you be."
James looked down as his shirt sagged open, and John examined the face of the device. "You've made adjustments, I see." He gently touched part of the machine, running his finger over the metal in an almost loving manner. James shivered.
"The most foolish thing you ever did, Dr. Watson, was ensuring your trusted classmates knew how to provide maintenance to this device. Nikola provided the initial sketches, and you and Helen... heads together over the laboratory table... designing the prototype. And then painstakingly teaching Nigel and myself what to do if anything ever went wrong. But how could you have known what the future held? Even with your brilliance, you still couldn't see the future."