by Jack Parker
"I love you, too."
She laughed. "Why did you phone?"
He sighed on the other end. "I need to talk to you about something."
"Which is what we're doing right now."
"Ha. Ha. I mean face to face, idiot."
Lia fingered the chord. "Why don't you just come over?"
"I'm outside your door right now. I just need you to open it."
She rolled her eyes. "Idiot."
"I know," he replied chirpily.
Lia made her way to the door, pulling the chord along as she did so. She pushed the door open and poked her head out.
"Hello."
Carmon bowed. "Carmon Rosalind Maitfield at your service, ma'am."
"And what brings you to our humble dwellings on so fine a morning, Sir Carmon?" She grinned.
"I wish to converse with you on some matters of great importance concerning my brother, Milady," he replied, with a grin.
She gasped. "I trust you are 'conversing' about Sir Jude, good sir."
"Indeed I am."
Lia pulled open the door. Carmon stepped in and surveyed his surroundings.
She arched an eyebrow. "I do so hope our humble dwellings are to your satisfaction, milord."
"They'll do," he replied flippantly.
She jabbed him with her elbow. "Be polite."
He slumped down on the sofa. "Your carpet is absolutely exquisite, milady."
She rolled her eyes, then sat down and propped her head on her elbows. "So, has Jude finally decided to get a personality transplant?"
Carmon leaned back and pitched his legs on the table. "If only." He sighed wistfully.
"How's your arm?"
"I did some minor watch out duty with you guys yesterday in the mission. So I doubt I would have gone if my arm wasn't better." There was a "duh" in his voice.
Lia bit her bottom lip. She had forgotten about the mission, because there hadn't been any mission.
"What did you want to talk to me about?"
He noticed the sudden change of subject –she could tell by his expression– but he chose not to comment. Instead, he indicated the kitchen door. "He wants to tell her, tonight."
Lia blinked. "Tell her what?"
He threw his head back and sighed. "That he likes her, idiot."
She pouted. "I'm not an idiot."
"Keep telling yourself that, dear, then maybe one day it'll come true."
Lia pushed some hair behind her ear. "What's that got to do with me?"
Carmon folded his legs. "You know her the best out of all of us, so I thought I'd ask for your advice."
She knew her the best out of all of them? Lia blinked. Now that she thought about it, she barely knew anything about Lacey. She didn't even know what her favorite color was…
"Lacey!" she shouted.
"What?" her voice rang from the kitchen.
Carmon's eyes widened. "You're not going to –"
"What's your favorite color?"
Carmon sighed with relief.
Lacey poked her head out of the kitchen. "I like blue." She went back inside and closed the door.
Now she felt better.
Carmon raised an eyebrow. "That was random."
"I know."
"How was that anything to do with our conversation?"
Lia blinked. "It wasn't."
Silence reigned for a few moments, then Carmon decided to speak. "Jude's really nervous."
Lia creased her brow. Jude? Nervous? Jude actually felt things? This was something new to her. "And what can I do about that?"
Carmon bit his bottom lip. "Do you think that he should?"
"Should what?"
He sighed. "Tell her."
"Oh." She licked her lips. "Errm. It's better in than out."
He creased his forehead. "Oh?"
Lia swung her legs. "It's like… when you're constipated."
Carmon laughed. "What?"
"When you're, like, constipating if you keep it in, then it's more uncomfortable. And when it's out you feel relieved," she supplied.
He arched an eyebrow. "Brilliant way of putting it."
"I know, yeah."
"So you think he should tell her?"
Lia shrugged. "He can't keep it in forever."
Carmon smiled. "I guess he can't." He stood up and shuffled his feet. "Thanks, Lia."
She grinned. "Any time. Only, why are you so concerned about Jude anyway?"
Carmon began making his way to the door. "He's always there for me," he began. "He's not good at showing it, but he is. The least I can do is try and be there for him."
Jude was always there for him? From what Lia had seen, he was always angry or annoyed or shouting at Carmon. How was that being there for him? She didn't understand it.
"Okay. Bye."
He smiled. "Bye."
He left. Lia leaned back into the sofa, then a sudden thought occurred to her. What had the point of Carmon asking her been, anyway? She hadn't really told him anything that he couldn't have figured out for himself. But maybe he needed someone to affirm what he was thinking, someone to agree with him and make him feel more confident about his resolution; someone that he was close to and whose opinion he valued and trusted.
And she was that person?
She hadn't realized that he trusted her, valued her, so much. Were they really that close?
Lacey exited the kitchen, two plates in hand. "Breakfast time," she chirped.
Lia frowned.
Eggs. Yay.
* * *
Jack stepped out of the car, the harsh wind beating against his face and cooling his cheeks. He cast his gaze over the building, watching the brick as it crumbled and dust fell from the once elegant upper landing.
It was a wreck.
Sirens blared in the background accompanied by the constant clicking of cameras. The body had been rescued last night, now all that was left was the wreckage. Jack made his way forward and towards the man at the front –the one who looked to be in charge of the operation.
He held out his hand. "I'm Jack Harlton, Head of Sector 4, LAFFAT."
The man eyed him with disdain. "Pleased to meet you." His expression said the exact opposite.
They shook hands. He instantly knew that the hostility was due to the Jessica Coles ordeal. He was never going to live that down.
Jack ran a hand through his hair. "What have you got so far?"
The man cast his gaze over the wreckage. "Arthur Fallock was murdered last night. Shortly after a bomb was set off on the upper landing." He seemed reluctant to share the information.
"Any casualties?"
The man shook his head. "It was a minor blast, nothing really big or dangerous. Half of the landing was destroyed, as you can see. Our experts have surmised that it was set off as some sort of distraction."
Jack creased his forehead. "Distraction for what?"
The man pursed his lips, then looked around. "Halls, bring the folder," he shouted.
Another man came towards them and handed them a folder. The head handed Jack the folder. Jack opened it and pulled out the photos.
"There were two of them," he began. "And they forgot to disable the cameras within the upper corridor." He pointed to one of the images; Jack could barely see the figure because of the lighting. "Our experts are analyzing and clearing out the photos as we speak. They'll be able to distinguish between the nationalities of the assassins, but we have reason to believe that one of them is the same person who entered the information center not long ago."
"What makes you think that?" It was all adding up…
The man took back the photos and placed them into the folder. "The style of clothing and the overall style of attack is similar. They tend to conduct these operations on important days –days of festivity– And when there are not many people about."
Jack bit his lip. "They probably went into the information center to get the layout of Fallock's house and a list of important events. Or something along those l
ines."
"Exactly."
Jack nodded, then surveyed the wreckage. He had never liked Fallock but nobody deserved this: to be slaughtered in ones home, then have half of it bombed. He wondered what these "Rebels" were up to. Didn't they understand that by retaliating against LAFFAT, they were just making matters worse?
"Have a report on my desk by tomorrow."
The man shook his head. "Miss Coles has already requested for all information to be forwarded to her immediately, Sir." The venom was barely there, but it was there nonetheless.
Jack felt a pang in his chest.
You'd think you'd learn from your mistakes.
He nodded. "I understand." He felt so embarrassed.
The man raised an eyebrow. Jack walked away. They wouldn't need his help on this one.
The phone was ringing.
Lia sighed, then picked it up. "Hello?" There was no answer. She repeated herself. "Hello?"
Someone coughed on the other end. "Hey, it's Leigh."
Leigh? Why would Leigh of all people be phoning her?
"Hi."
"I need to talk to you," he said. He sounded nervous.
She blinked. This conversation sounded familiar. "That's what we're doing right now."
"Oh, yeah. I know. I mean, that's why I wanted to phone."
Lia smiled. He was amusing. "What did you want to talk about, Leigh?"
He was silent for a few moments, then he replied. "It's about Lacey."
Her expression dropped. "What about Lacey?"
He didn't seem to notice the change in her tone of voice. "I'm going to tell her that I like her tonight," he replied.
"Oh."
"Oh? What do you mean by that?" He was really nervous.
She didn't know what to say. "It's just…"
"It's just what?" he prompted.
She wanted Lacey to end up with Jude not Leigh. And if they both confessed at the same time it would turn into one big melodramatic mess.
Leigh noticed her silence. He let out a dry laugh. "I get it."
Lia blinked. He did?
"You'd rather Jude gets her, right?"
She wanted to sigh with relief. "It's like you can read my mind." That had been the wrong thing to say.
"It's because I'm an Elonsican, isn't it?" he bit.
She shook her head. It wasn't, was it? "No..."
"You don't sound too sure, Lia." The way he said her name; he put a twist onto it and made it sound crude, horrible. She had never known Leigh to sound this angry. "Just because a few Elonsicans may have done something to you in the past, it doesn't mean that we're all out to kill you." The humor was twisted.
Lia shook her head again, though she knew he couldn't see. "It isn't like that –"
He cut her off. "Don't lie to me, Lia. You can't judge a group of people by the actions of an individual. Just because Jude is more like you than I am it doesn't mean that he's better suited to her. Racism works both ways."
She bit her lip, then opened her mouth to reply; but he had already hung up. Lia put the phone back onto the receiver and made her way into the kitchen. She took out a glass and poured herself some water, then leaned against the sink and began to drink it.
Leigh was wrong. She didn't want Lacey to go with Jude because Leigh was an Elonsican; it was because she knew him better. She downed the water and put the glass back into the sink. He was just jumping to conclusions.
The phone began to ring again.
She grimaced. What was with all of these phone calls? Couldn't they just leave her in peace? She took her time getting into the main room, then lifted up the receiver.
"Hello."
"Hey."
Her stomach jumped. "Hey." She could feel the smile forming on her face.
"What are you doing?" he said.
Lia looked back over her shoulder. "Washing dishes."
"How exciting," Cal commented dryly.
"Almost as fun as doing the vacuum."
"You can't get any better than that."
She grinned. "Why did you phone?"
He was silent for a few moments, then he replied, "Are you busy?"
"I told you, I'm washing dishes."
Cal laughed on the other end. "I'll take that as a no. You're probably stressed about last night."
Lia shrugged. "I haven't been thinking about it."
"You probably have."
"Okay," she fingered the chord. "And what if I have?"
"Do you want to go somewhere to get your mind off of things?" he asked casually.
"But why would I need to get my mind off of it when I'm not actually thinking about it?" she replied.
She could almost see him rolling his eyes. "I'll pick you up."
"Now?"
"Yeah."
Lia nodded. "Okay."
"Be ready."
She laughed. "I will be. Bye."
"Bye." He hung up. She followed suit and got dressed, then made her way back into the main room and sat on the sofa.
Lacey came in. "Where are you going?"
"Out."
Lacey raised an eyebrow at her lack of an answer. "Okay," she replied. "By the way, Jude and Leigh and Carmon just phoned me to say that they're coming over tonight."
Lia felt her stomach drop. "Yeah, I know…"
Lacey creased her brow. "You sound worried."
She plastered on a grin. "I'm not."
Lacey smiled. "I'm making my special curry," she chirped. "It's been a while since we've had a get together. You will be back by then, won't you?"
Lia bit her lip. "I'll try."
"You better."
The doorbell rang. Lia stood up and made her way towards the door, then pulled it open. Cal stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his hands dug into his pockets.
"Hey."
Lia smiled. "Hi."
He pulled himself up, then turned around and began walking down the corridor. "Come on, then," he threw over his shoulder.
She caught up with him. "Where are we going?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "You'll see."
"Tell me."
"No," he replied placidly.
Lia rolled her eyes and followed him to his car. They entered. She leaned back in the passenger seat and tugged on the seatbelt as Cal revved up the engine.
He arched an eyebrow. "Are you going to put that on?"
Lia continued tugging at it, then let it go so that it fell back in. She tugged again. "Do I ever?"
He shrugged and started up the car, and they were off.
* * *
Lia tapped her feet against the seat impatiently and gazed out of the window. Trees blurred past, shooting across her vision like an arrow slicing through the air and cutting into its target. The sky was white –white tinged with gray. Why was the weather never nice?
She cast her gaze over Cal. His eyes rested on the road in concentration, never straying from the wide stretch of tarmac before him. Lia kicked at the seat in irritation. Normally she would enjoy a car ride, a quiet, peaceful car ride like this, but it irked her that she didn't know where they were going.
And he refused to tell her.
Why had she agreed to come along?
"Why did I agree to come along?" She sighed.
He kept his gaze on the road, then commented dryly. "It's not like I'm taking you anywhere horrible."
She took it as an opening. "Where are you taking me?" she prompted.
"The Dentist. You need new teeth."
Lia rolled her eyes. "Ha. Ha."
"Hilarious, I know."
"That was sarcasm."
"I didn't say it wasn't," he replied mildly.
She groaned. "Why won't you tell me?"
"Because it'll ruin the surprise. We're nearly there, anyway."
