Setting the Board -- Part 2

Chapter 15, Tale Six: Setting the Board -- Part 2 pic and text

Christine looked around the small office, in the depths of the power building. Elijah had told her what to do here, and she had listened, glad for once that she had no voice to speak back. Just hearing his voice filled her with hate and rage. His fault that she didn’t have a voice, his fault that her brain had been cut into, and she had lost so many other abilities, his fault that she’d been through so much pain. But she was collared, and she had to do what she was ordered to do. For now, at least. He was still remote, still hidden somewhere, and only by playing the game through, only by following him into the Madre, could she hope to finally catch him and make him pay for everything that he’d done. She was, for now, locked onto her course.

She hadn’t wanted to be left alone again, she had been afraid when this Kriss had brought her to this place. But she had kept it inside, her fear, and she was a little ashamed of how powerful it was. She belonged to the Circle of Steel, she should be brave. But so much had happened to her, and it was now difficult to force down her fear. The two of them had worked out an impromptu system of communication, taps and pauses against the collar speakers, before she had left her in here. She had promised that she would come back for her, and Christine could hear a tap on the speaker every few minutes, reassurance. She was a strange woman, Kriss, to be in this place. For all that she’d come here, she didn’t seem overwhelmingly interested in the draw of the vault, in what the Madre might hold. Not to the extent of Elijah, certainly, or even Domino, the ghoul. Not to say that she didn’t seem to want to get in, she did give the impression of wanting to, but there did not seem to be the coloring of greed that she would associate it with. She was a mystery, her presence here. But Christine was sure she could trust her. Her short time with the woman, and it was clear what Veronica had seen in her, to give her that necklace. She was. . . powerful. She faced the dangers of the Madre with calmness and poise that few in the Brotherhood could have matched, and she was capable of both swift force, and great compassion. It would all be worth it if it led her to Elijah. She fought down her fear, and got ready to do her part.

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Dean stood at his small station and made himself ready. He had made a great show of muttering and disdain when he had seen it, but he was pleased. He was close to the gates, and close to the woman. He thought they’d both reach the gates at the same time once the Gala Event was set off. He assumed that Elijah would make it in first. He would, as the controller, make it happen that way. But that was okay, once inside he would be stopped by the door to the vault. Only Dean knew how to get past that door. Which just left the collar, and he wondered about that. The old man had used the Madre’s radio frequency to link them together, he thought. From time to time he could hear Vera’s voice, the recorded message, whispering from the small speaker. The natural choice, really. Use the tools you had available to you, and the Madre’s frequency blanketed the entire villa.

It was a tidy solution while the Madre lay dormant, but what when she came back to life? When all her systems came back on line she would be using that frequency as well. So much noise and signal, would the collars still work? The locator? Even the explosive charge? It was hard to say, but he suspected that they would not, at least not properly. Even turning on some of the serviceable radios in the villa itself interfered with the signal. He had discovered that early on with Elijah, back when both had been pretending to be partners with the other, before the old man had collared him. It was a risk, but he was used to risks, he’d spend too many years in Las Vegas. The old man wouldn’t fire the charges until he was sure of success, Dean was positive on that. The man was pragmatic, and patient. As long as he held the keys to the collar he would believe in his control, and he would wait until he had what he wanted, or saw no other way forward, to destroy his tools.

Out here, the old man had control. But in the Madre itself, Dean would have the advantage over all of them. He knew the lay of the place, he had seen it in life so long ago. He smiled, and got ready to move.