[June 3rd] Part III
June 3rd, 206 SD
9:56 AM
(Cont’d from Jonas’ June 3rd narration)
Even though I knew he had been followed, I honestly didn't believe that I would hear the sound of the small gun whirring back to life. "So the little princess wants to avenge the hero?" I asked, turning my head ever-so-slightly.
Ayn stood several feet away, looking a little too symbolic in her wrinkled white dress and her trembling hands gripping the gun. "Get away from him," she ordered, her voice strong and commanding despite how terrified her body language was.
I straightened my posture without standing up. "Or what? You'll shoot me?" My lips twisted into a smirk.
Without blinking, she jerked her arms down and pulled the trigger.
I flinched, shielding my face with an arm as the gravel at my feet exploded on impact. "Shit!" I swore in surprise. A piece of stone had slashed my hand, and I quickly pressed it against my mouth.
"I said get away from him." This time she took a few measured steps towards where I crouched beside the body.
With a frown, I held up my hands next to my head and obediently backed away.
She kept the gun trained on me, though her pace increased and her attention shifted away as she got closer. At a few paces away, the gun slipped from her hands and she stumbled the remaining distance before collapsing on her knees next to the body. Ayn reached out hesitantly, her fingers trailing over his brow and pressing against his cheek.
A surge of jealousy flared briefly inside of me and my hands clenched into fists. But at the same time, only in her presence, was I fully regretting my actions.
“Why did you have to go this far…?” she whispered, and I didn’t respond. “Why couldn’t either of you tell me? We could have worked through something, or-” I could tell by her tone and expression of fear that she didn’t even believe her own words.
I was a little startled when her eyes focused on me, the blue irises so dangerously dark that it made me falter. “Why did you have to kill him?!”
I could hear a car door slam in the distance, but she didn’t react to it. We wouldn’t have that much longer to be alone together, and I had to stop feeling guilty. “It was the gelato,” I said in an off-hand manner. “I was given such a great offer that-” My lie was cut off as a piece of the shattered rock smacked into my chest. Forcing a smirk onto my face, I was glad that Ayn had dropped the gun or I would have joined Catoir.
“Don’t insult him like that,” she hissed as she pulled his head onto her lap and took off his glasses with caring hands. I couldn’t bring myself to protest or stop her as she began to search his pockets-one hand still pressed against his cheek, as if by doing that he would come back to life.
I had to look away, feeling as if I was intruding, when really it was she who had come uninvited. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a man with dirty blonde hair and a pair of shades blocking his eyes. But the car in the distance and his serious black suit was more than enough for me to recognize him after our one meeting.
A part of me-very small, mind-told me that I should warn her. Tell her to run and get away because she didn’t belong here-that she shouldn’t have seen something like this-… But the larger part of me was still feeling jealous and spiteful. So I said, “You have such a kind father,” adding as much sass as I could choke out.
Ayn looked up and glared at me. She had Catoir’s phone in one hand.
Good, I thought. Hate me. I noticed that there were tears in her eyes and wondered how much I could push before she finally broke down.
“What does my father have anything to do with this?” she demanded, the shock of such a seemingly random question winning over her anger for a moment. “I haven’t seen him in the better part of God knows how many years and you say how kind he is?” The anger was back, and her grip tightened on Catoir ever so slightly.
“Don’t say useless things, Mister Quinn.” The man in the suit came to a stop next to me, pulling off his shades to reveal eyes that rivaled Ayn’s.
I smirked, taking a step back before glancing towards the girl on the ground for just a moment. “Sorry, sir, but I think it is slightly relevant. After all…” I turned my attention back to Ayn. “I am the informant for your daughter’s team-it is my job to tell her important facts.”
All color drained from her face and a look of horror crossed her features-and I couldn’t help but gloat. Her gaze wavered between Henrik and myself, unsure sounds escaping from her trembling lips, but she still wasn’t crying. “Who-” Her voice failed her before she could even finish the thought.
“Hello, Ayn. It looks like you’ve grown into a fine young lady. You look just like your mother,” the man said after a pause, a hesitant smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her grip tightening around Catoir as she held him closer against her chest.
Henrik was silent, as if weighing his options. “I’m helping you out of Eminence.”
“What does this have to do with Catoir or Jonas? My team has been destroyed-” She shot me a pointed look. “I’m disqualified.”
He took another few steps forward, and her arms tightened around the body’s shoulders as she doubled over to hide her face. “If you stayed with him, you would have been in trouble just like him.”
“It was you, then?!” she asked, eyes going wide though she refused to look up at either of us. “You were the one that had him killed?” Her voice was rising to a shrill pitch.
She was so close, but at this point, I knew she wouldn’t cry. I remained silent; if I said anything else at this point, I would have said too much. Lingering here was making me uneasy. There was only so long I could stand to see him dead-a vivid reminder of what I had done for his sake. But the more I stared, the more I began to wonder if this had been the only option-if I hadn’t fallen victim to a scheme set up by Henrik Braun in his own desire for power. Well, that’s not entirely true: I knew that I was only being used to help him gain control of ALICE. I was more worried about Catoir’s role in the whole thing. Ayn was able to vocalize what I didn’t want to admit. She always had-and that was one reason why I hated her.
“It had to be done,” Henrik replied. The business-like tone he had used with me to convince me of his plan in the first place was gone. In the face of his long-lost, but carefully observed, daughter, it took on a rather disgusting plea. “The Program Manager would have felt no hesitation in destroying your life and Mister Quinn’s life when taking down Mister Os-Altair,” he corrected. I had to constantly remind him that ‘Fletcher Oswin’ was not Catoir’s real name.
“And so you hired my informant to kill my partner? I fail to see the logic in your theory!” she snapped, finally looking up.
Henrik didn’t answer that question. “Ayn, get up. We have to leave. I can’t allow you to stay here any longer-you weren’t supposed to find out this way.” He reached out to try and pull her away from the body she was clutching, but the girl flinched.
“Don’t touch him!” Her voice cracked with the cry.
I couldn’t stand this anymore. My feelings getting the better of me, I snapped, “Ayn, he’s dead! Stop being so difficult!” When her sorrowful eyes turned to me, I could feel my own grief welling up. “Let him go,” I added softly.
She held my gaze for a long time before her grip finally loosened and she sat there in stunned silence without moving.
With awkward movements, Henrik again reached out and this time grasped his daughter by the shoulders, helping her to her feet.
I lingered behind as he guided Ayn back towards his car, resisting the urge to sit by Catoir’s side for my own chance to mourn.
“Mister Quinn, please follow me.” Henrik looked back at me over his shoulder.
My insides were twisting with the knowledge that this was the last chance I would have to look at Catoir. “What do you plan on doing with the body?” I had to fight to keep my voice in control. Let Ayn get emotional-I went into this knowing what would happen.
He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if annoyed by my sudden interest in the body. “We’ll leave it here for now-I’ll send someone to come by later and pick it up. Follow me, please.” It wasn’t so much a request as it was an order: I had no choice but to comply.
I still had to finish my role as his pawn.