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Hearing Burgess' deep voice resonate through the wood of the office door, Orion hunkered down behind the desk; the big man had returned and seemed to be talking to someone. No, not talking, it was only a quick sentence. A question, judging by the tone. Sighing quietly, he knew that it was definitely time to leave and he was going to have to pull a few tricks if he intended to do it without being followed, too. Difficult, but manageable. Selecting a folder at random, he set it aside and put the others back in the drawer. In his haste, one folder spilled open as it was shoved back into place, covering the carpeted floor with errant pages. Orion's attention was instantly drawn from his mistake, however, as he felt an uncharacteristic surge of anger building in his gut.
He recognized the signs of what was coming over him instantly for what they were. No, not now! Escape comes first; you can settle whatever grudge you have with this man another time!
The raw, aggressive feeling surged through his veins like a wildfire; not the answer he had hoped he would get in response to his internal commands, but it was the one he had expected. Snarling involuntarily, he attempted to bang his forehead against Burgess' desk in a final bid to loosen the feeling's grip on him, but felt himself falling backwards instead. Collapsing against the floor, just as Burgess threw the doors open, the surge of hostile emotion reached his head and he saw nothing more.
Filling the doorway, Burgess stepped cautiously inside his office and shut the door behind himself; he saw no one at first glance, but knew the only place to hide in this room was behind his desk. He had been fooled that way, once, and would not be so easily taken again. Clearing his throat to make his presence known, as if there was any way it could have been missed, he spoke aloud.
"I don't know who you are, and I don't care what you're here for; come out from behind there, now. And don't try anything funny, I'm in no mood for games."
A dark brown head of hair came into view, followed by a flashing pair of hazel eyes. Tucking a folder that Burgess knew came from his desk into the front of his neatly-trimmed suit; the man smiled a broad, mocking smile. "Oh, Burgess, I'm hurt. Here I thought we were old friends; I'd expected a little hospitality, no matter how lousy your day's been."
"Black," he murmured softly, feeling a certain regret that he did not have his brass knuckles handy. "How did you get in here?"
The smaller man smiled that infuriating smile of his. "Oh, I have my ways. So; how are you? Stressed out from being investigated by police? Tired from working long hours because of the security measures put in place after those two twits botched their entrance a few days back? Come; enlighten me. I'm starved for entertainment here."
Burgess' eyes narrowed as he studied the man, getting the oddest feeling that he was guessing: shrewdly, correctly, but guessing nonetheless. But that didn't matter just now, his vague answer was what he took issue with. A man should not have been able to just walk in; especially since he had somehow fooled the cameras, not to mention his secretary, into seeing someone else. The fact that Black had imitated him, in particular, with this stunt was just the pinch of salt in the wound that had been inflicted on his pride.
"You know I can't let you leave, Black. You're stealing company property. Hell, I saw you doing it. If you don't co-operate, you'll just be giving me the excuse I've been looking for to teach you a lesson."
Black's grin widened. "Then I guess school's in session, huh? I have to admit, I've been spoiling for a go at you myself. Having to trick someone else into getting me my freedom was a pain, but I'm back now and I can dispense with the third-party approach."
The giant of a man slid his desk out of the way, not even caring enough to try and work out what Black was talking about. Burgess was far more interested in creating an unobstructed space in which he could beat this pain in his backside into unconsciousness. Besides, words were pointless if they both wanted the same thing. Flexing his fingers, he threw the first punch, but Black seemed to disappear from his sight; ducking beneath his arm, the smaller man kicked his aggressor in the side, though it had almost no appreciable effect. Straightening up, Burgess came at him again, but the pattern repeated itself; this time, however, he saw the retaliatory strike coming and caught the suit-wearing man's polished shoe in his free hand.
Hauling back, he threw Black against the wall and listened to the resulting thud with no small amount of satisfaction. His opponent recovered well, though, and seized a picture frame from the wall. Not even sparing a moment to see what he had taken, he threw it at Burgess as he might throw a Frisbee. Raising his arms to defend himself, the big man winced as the hard corner of the frame struck his arm; pain was an unfamiliar sensation to him, but this was nothing he could not handle.
Black meanwhile, had gone for another picture frame, but he was beginning to notice that something was wrong. His movements were quick, but he did not feel as sure-footed as he was used to. His reactions to Burgess' punches had been good, but still too slow; his reflexes seemed to want him to run, not fight. Not that he would allow himself to be bullied by something so simple. Not finding any other frames, however, made his defiance difficult to go through with.
Burgess frowned as the smaller man turned back toward him; he was taller than he had been a minute ago. How was that possible? Catching a glimpse of the man's eyes, he saw they were now blue, not hazel. Frowning, he dropped his guard for a moment. "How the hell are you doing that? What are you doing to your eyes?"
Eyes? Black swore to himself as he realized the cause of his malfunctioning reflexes. He had forced his way into the driver's seat, but he'd dragged some of Orion's previous persona with him without meaning to. Swearing to himself once again, he spat the name of this hobbling influence inside his own head; Carmichael! He knew it would not reach its intended target, but that did not matter. What did was the simple fact that he could not fight like this. Not for much longer, anyway, so a rethink was needed. Feeling around behind himself, he found the knob for the paired office doors and opened one of them, slipping through before Burgess could react.
With his quarry slipping out of sight, Burgess cursed aloud and chased after him. Tearing open the doors, he saw his secretary meekly cowering at his desk. Without needing to be yelled at, the man pointed out the door and the big man surged past him to give pursuit, turning to the right. Passing the monitor room, Burgess leaned inside to bark at his second-in-command.
"Murakami!"
Snapping to attention from a recumbent position, she spun to face him. "Sir?"
Having no time for full sentences, let alone explanations, he skipped to the order he had to give. "Intruder; take the hall past my office, meet at the elevators!"
Thundering off in pursuit of Black, Burgess reached the elevators first; finding neither of them open and nobody waiting for him, he glared down the hall to await Murakami's arrival. When she did appear, without anyone in custody, he glared at the elevators; one was going down and nearly to the bottom. It had to be the one Black was in, but the other elevator was nearly twenty floors above them. Grabbing the radio from Murakami's belt as she came to a stop beside him, he sprinted for the stairs, all the while barking orders at those stationed on the lower floors.
Upon reaching the ground floor, Burgess saw a small army of guards had been assembled; oddly, his receptionist was also present. The young man, upon seeing his boss, approached in his usual nervous fashion. "Uh, s-Sir, I took the liberty of assembling some guards to assist you. D-did you capture the intruder?"
Burgess glared at the young man with an unrestrained hostility that made his confidence wilt even further. "Did it not occur to you to inform me you were stepping out?"
"Well, n-no, Sir, you don't like to be d-disturbed normally."
Growling, Burgess stormed to the back door as quickly as he could. He arrived just in time to see the camera swivelling back into its usual search pattern; whoever had used it, and he had a pretty good idea of who it had been, was gone, both from the building and sight. But how ha
d he tricked the cameras on the way in? Moreover, how had he himself been tricked upstairs, with only a scant few seconds out of his sight? It was impossible. Still, impossible or not, he had to tell Giselle. He could already guess her reaction.
Part of him cringed at the thought.
In Icarus' Shadow Page 35
