Monday, May 9, 2011

Ch 24 Sem 2 Wk 6 pt 2

Lola sat on the edge of the bed with Patricia holding her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” she promised, hoping she could keep the promise, that she wasn’t making a terrible mistake. She had put everyone she cared about on the line with this one. Glory, Patricia, even dumb Lawrence was on the line. And she was. “Just stay calm and don’t do anything stupid,” she continued. “We can’t do anything stupid.”

“Are you okay?” Patricia asked her. “You look a little pale.”

“Everything will be fine.” Lola stood up and started pacing.

“You’re making me nervous,” Patricia said.

Lola spun around and gave her friend her best smile. “I have to go check on the caterers.” she left the room, careful to lock it behind her. Dark Lothario had cameras everywhere.

Out in the large living room there was bustling everywhere as the buffet was being set up, flowers were being brought in, and last minute cleaning was being carried on by the regular hotel staff. Her patsy, Roy Gillespie, was standing around drinking coffee with a couple other security guys, half private, the other half working for the hotel, Roy among them. Many of the staff at the Belmonte Grande had criminal records. Roy’s record included multiple counts of domestic violence, arson, and possession with the intent to sell. And that was just what he’d been caught doing. Anything that Dark Lothario might do to him as punishment for letting the heroes in, well, he deserved it.

In a few short days with Dark Lothario Lola had discovered that there was a dark side to every industry in the city. While the catering company hired to do the food worked all sorts of mainstream events, the owner of the company was a retired super villain. The musicians were a group of henchmen who liked to get together and jam, and the film crew worked for Dark Lothario exclusively.

A round bed had appeared in the center of the room, and an area had been taped off for the camera equipment. The show would be broadcasted live for free that night only on the Dark Lothario Presents website, and after that it would be available for download for the discounted low price of $9.95. Lola wanted to throw up at the very sight of the bed and turned away.

Refrigerated cabinets and hot boxes were beginning to line the hall leading to the emergency stairs, and Lola slipped between them to check the door, as though the lock would jam or something. As soon as she shut the door again she heard Dark Lothario’s voice in the main room. She quickly opened one of the coolers and grabbed at the first pastry she saw.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dark Lothario asked her as she stepped back into the main room, biting into the fruit tart she’d procured. It was peach--she hated peach. “You’re going to get too round for your costume,” he said with a laugh.

“Like you’re one to talk,” she countered, and he laughed harder.

“I like your nerve,” he said. “It’s not very smart of you, but I like it all the same. How are we doing?”

“All exits are secure,” she lied. “The catering staff will be here in an hour, the band is due any minute, and I called Lou the camera guy. He’s stuck in traffic but will be here in plenty of time to set up for the event.”

“Wonderful. You’re better at this than Spider,” he complemented. “He never knew what was going on before a party.

“My mother likes to throw parties,” she explained. “She doesn’t like to do the work that goes into one.”

“That sounds like your mother. Is she still a bank robber?”

“She is,” Lola said, feeling strange. She wasn’t used to talking about her mother as Mesmera.

“She had so much promise--but no drive, no ambition.”

“Not really.”

“You are nothing like her,” he said thoughtfully. “You don’t even look like her.”

“She always said I was my father’s daughter.”

Dark Lothario made a breathy “humpf” sound and turned away. “I’ll be in my room, getting ready. Let me know when the guests begin to arrive.”

“Yes sir,” she answered, distracted momentarily by her phone buzzing. “Excuse me.”

She escaped into the outer hallway and fished her phone out of her costume. It was Glory. “Where are you?” she cried into the phone, her voice an octave higher than usual. “I have to go on my biggest mission ever and I’m freaking out!”

“I’m sorry,” Lola said. “I’m busy.”

“Busy with what! You know how important this is--how can you be busy.”

“Take a deep breath and you’ll be fine,” Lola offered, hating herself a little. “I’m sorry,” she said, thinking fast. “My mom finally came home. I’m on my way home to see her.”

Glory was silent on the other line. “Your mother?” she said finally. “You decide to pick
now to care about her?”

“She is my mom,” Lola said.

She could hear Glory sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. But you’ll be fine. Glorious.”

“I don’t feel very glorious right now.”

“You are. I’ll be thinking about you. I’ll send positive vibes your way.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll have your friends with you--you’ll be fine. Nothing bad will happen.”

“I hope not.”

*****

Glory tried not to be angry with Lola as she got ready for the rescue attempt of a lifetime. She tucked her hair up into the short brown wig Lola and gotten her, and put on a pair of Lola’s glasses. Lola was nearsighted, but only slightly, and after wearing the glasses for a few minutes Glory’s eyes began to adjust. She buttoned up her vest and put on the matching bowtie. She hoped she looked like a nondescript server. She felt like a super hero in disguise.

She jumped at the knock on the door and ran to open it. KP and Torch were there dressed in their catering outfits. She still couldn’t get over the idea of KP without a mask. She had imagined his face over and over again over the months, but she hadn’t expected someone so…young. She tended to forget that they were all only nineteen. She felt so much older most days.

“Hi guys,” she said.

“Black and Righteous are already in the van downstairs,” KP said. “Let’s go.” He had been distant all the night before, but it was probably just jitters. She knew she felt them.

“Van?” she questioned, leading the way downstairs. The League’s white van was parked in her driveway, Black at the wheel.

“Borrowed it without permission,” he explained when she and the others got in. “I thought it would look less conspicuous in a hotel loading dock.”

“Good idea,” Glory said, pleased that she had decided to let Black in on the plan. He looked cool and in control, which was more than she was feeling. The drive over to the hotel was a tense one. Righteous kept tapping his fingers on the dashboard, and little puffs of smoke kept appearing in front of her. Glory looked over her seat and saw a collection to cigarette-sized burns on the seat next to Torch.

“You cool?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I got the easy job. Keep the engine running, call you if I see any trouble.” Torch had volunteered as the get-away driver, even if he wasn’t comfortable with actually going inside.

“What about you?” she asked Lawrence, who was staring out the window.

“I’m great.”

“Good.” She said, not feeling any better.

They pulled into the back of the hotel right next to a white catering truck. They would blend well. They all got out of the van and Torch moved to the driver’s seat. “Do this fast,” Torch said. “If you’re not out in an hour, I’m calling Romeo Avenger.”

“That’s not fair!” Glory exclaimed. “You said you wouldn’t tell.”

“I don’t want you dead either,” he said. “One hour before I call for backup.”

She opened her mouth to protest but Black touched her arm. “It’s a good idea,” he said. “Does everyone know what they’re supposed to do?” he asked. They all nodded Glory most
emphatically of all as she set her jaw in a grim expression. Black nodded at Glory. “This is your show, America. Lead the way.”

*****

I am going to die, I am going to die, Lawrence thought as he followed America up the winding stairs. He was getting winded, but America thought it would be a bad idea to take the elevator even part of the way up. The elevator was monitored--the stairs had no cameras that he could see. It didn’t matter as far as he was concerned. How was he going to crash a super villain’s party, kidnap the guest of honor, and get out again without being caught? This was crazy, and stupid, and he was about to turn around and wait in the car with Torch--

“Thank you,” America whispered to him suddenly. The stairwell echoed and the other two could hear her. “For believing I can do this.”

Hell. “Of course you can.” We’re all going to die.

They finally reached the top of the stairs. It was a fireproof door, but he could still hear loud music through it. “This must be the place,” America said quietly. “Everyone ready? Remember, ten minutes and we meet back here.”

Lawrence hoped the door would be locked and they could abandon the caper before it really began, but America’s contact on the inside (she never did say who) had come through, opening the door after one soft knock. “Roy Gillespie?” Righteous asked the hotel security guard on the other side. The man nodded. “Sorry about this.”

The thud of Righteous hitting the man seemed to fill Lawrence’s ears, and he looked around. He didn’t see much. He was in a hallway full of catering boxes. Lawrence moved quickly and circled to the front of the nearest box, opening the doors to hide Righteous as he beat Gillespie unconscious. There was something very wrong about that. Lawrence quickly pulled out a tray of hors d’oeuvres and balanced them on one hand. His job was to watch the crowd and make sure no one started watching them. He took the tray up to a small kitchen area tucked into the back corner of the main room, setting it on the counter and washed his hands. The penthouse had close to a hundred people milling about, Lawrence figured. Servers wearing black vests identical to the ones Glory had passed out to them were circling with trays. Guests in masks talked and laughed like normal people, and there were lots of people dressed in normal clothes as well. Dark Lothario was one of them in a white tuxedo. Lawrence spotted him right away, with matching blonds on either side of him.

A moment later Righteous joined him, looking a little green. There was a fleck of blood on his cheek. “Here,” Lawrence said, wetting a bar towel and handing it to him. “You okay?”

“I never had a guy just lay there as I beat them into a bloody pulp,” Righteous said. “I don’t get why he would let us do that.”

Lawrence handed Righteous the tray of food and pretended the other hero’s hands weren’t shaking. “Yeah, well…” his eyes scanned the crowd in the room. The entire place seemed to be enjoying themselves--dancing, gathering around a bar set up next to a wall of windows…making out on the sofas. One person was not having fun. She was a on the curvy side, wearing black leather, her face covered by a leather mask. America loved to complain about her. The Mistress of Minds. She was standing at the bar and looking right at them. “I think I found America’s secret informant.”

“That guy at the door was brainwashed?”

“He let you hit him. Criminals don’t usually let people hit them.”

“Why would America trust someone like her? I don’t--”

“Shut up and look like a server,” Lawrence said quickly. “She’s coming over here.”

“What? I--”

“Go serve,” Lawrence said, giving Righteous a shove. The big blond shot him a dirty look and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Lawrence alone at the sink. The Mind Mistress pretended to wander, but made a beeline towards him. She brushed up against him to set her empty glass in the sink, and he felt he was going to swoon out of nervousness.

“Am I paying you to stand around and people watch?” she asked. “Come with me.“ Without thinking Lawrence obeyed, following her into the hallway. It was void of the others, except for Roy unconscious on the floor. Lawrence could see his boot sticking out from under a hot box. The hall opened up two ways--open into the main room, and a door leading down another hall to the bedrooms, where the others had gone.

“Well. Now that we’re more or less alone…”

“I had better get back out there,” he tried to mumble, but the hall was narrow with the catering boxes, and she was very close.

“No hurry,” she almost purred. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he answered, figuring it was best to play dumb.

“Are you here to fight crime, or are you here because she wants you here?”

“I--” It wasn’t the question he was expecting. “Because she asked me.” It was an easy answer. Why on earth would he want to fight crime?

“So you love her?”

“A little,” he admitted. “Who could resist?”

“I know,” she said, her voice a little wistful. “She is something else.”

“How do you know America?” he asked.

The wistfulness was gone from her voice immediately. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
He was pretty sure he did, but decided to drop it for the moment. “Why are you doing this? Letting us in, talking to me?”

“Maybe I like to play with my food,” she answered, cat-like. “Or maybe I’m not all bad. Who knows? Come here.” Before he could obey she pulled him to her and kissed him softly. He could have pulled away, but he didn’t. There was something familiar about the kiss, as though he had been there before. He kissed back.

*****

Glory’s heart was beating so hard she could feel it pounding against her sternum as they moved down the hallway towards the bedrooms. The walls muffled the party sounds, but it despite all of the noise of pounding music and pounded hearts, she could still hear a girl crying behind one of the bedroom doors. “This one,” she whispered to Black, who knelt at the lock.

“He didn’t get anything fancy for this door,” he said, taking a small leather case out of his pocket. “He must not be used to keeping prisoners here.” He opened the case and chose a bit of wire from it. Glory had seen him showing Torch how to pick locks a few weeks ago--it was the main reason she had called him in for the plan. Besides, he had a streak of rebellion in him but seemed to know what he was doing. He was going to make a good hero some day.

“Who’s there?” a frightened voice on the other side of the door asked.

“We’re here to help,” Glory answered softly. “Just hold on.”

Black made quick work of the lock and it popped open easily. Glory didn’t know what she expected to find there--some sort of torture chamber, maybe. But it was just a normal (expensive) bedroom with a frightened girl wearing skimpy black lingeree and too much makeup standing on the other side of the door.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Patricia, I’m Glory. I’m here to help. Do you have other clothes in here?” She nodded.

“Good--get dressed, and hurry. Black--watch the door.” He nodded and turned away while Patricia pulled on a purple sweat suit.

“I can’t believe she really did it,” Patricia said in an excited whisper. “She promised me she would get me out, but I didn’t think she would really go behind her father’s back--”

“Father?”

“Dark Lothario. They’re totally related. Just look at them.”

Glory coldn’t take the time to care. “Nevermind. Lets get you out of here before someone notices us.”

Outside of the room Glory saw Black staring up at a black globe on the ceiling. “Camera,” he said unnecessarily.

Glory stared up at it, aghast. “Run.” The three of them all tumbled down the hall together, Glory forcing herself to move slowly so that she didn’t leave them behind. Still, she reached the door first, flinging it open.

*****

Lawrence pulled away quickly at the sound of the door swinging open, but it didn’t matter. As soon as he pulled away from the Mistress he saw the look on America’s face. He was vaguely aware of the frazzled girl with too much make-up and Black staring at him from behind her, but mostly he saw the shocked look on America’s face. “Did she make you do it?” America asked, her voice stiff. Time had seemed to stop around them. It would have been so easy to say yes, but also so very hard. Stay with America and have a bunch of blond super hero babies, a day job he worked so hard in, only to go out and fight crime on the weekends?

“No.”

“Oh.” He really wished they were wearing masks and he didn’t have to see the hurt look on her face.

“Sorry kids,” Black said, bringing him and America back into the real world. “We’ve been spotted on the camera--get out of here--I’ll get Righteous.”

The mayor’s daughter pushed past them and pulled open the stairwell door, not caring that she hit Roy in the head with it. Lawrence turned around to find the Mistress gone, so he grabbed America by the hand and pulled her after Patricia.

America wrenched her hand away as soon as they were on the stairs, and flew ahead of him to catch up with Patricia. Lawrence found himself slowing down as soon as the girls were out of sight, the realization that he had just broken up with his girlfriend more important than escape. By the time he had gotten to the bottom of the stairs Black and Righteous had caught up with him.

“We’re not being followed,” Black said, his usually stoic voice sounding a little incredulous.

“The Mistress,” Lawrence answered, a dull feeling surrounding his brain.

“Ah, the Mistress,” Black said as they made their way through the bowels of the hotel to the loading dock. “Are we on personal terms with the Mistress?”

“What?” Righteous asked.

“I don’t know where that came from,” Lawrence snapped. “Just drop it.”

“Drop what?” Righteous demanded.

In the van America and Patricia were both holding each other and crying. Lawrence sat in the front seat so he wouldn’t have to look at them. “Everything go okay?” Torch asked as they pulled away and headed for campus.

“Perfectly,” Lawrence answered, and turned away to look out the window.

*****

Lola expected a huge explosion when Patricia was discovered missing, but at first she didn’t notice anything at all, too tied up with her own thoughts to care that extra hotel security guards had come in. Why had she kissed him? She didn’t like him, and he was dating her best friend. But in secret disguise, she couldn’t resist. She stood at the window sipping a glass champagne while a quiet search was carried on behind her. Finally the Lothario himself grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her away from the window. “I know you are behind this.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to pull her arm free, but he didn’t let go, instead dragging her to the security room where the man in charge of watching the many cameras was passed out drunk. “Did something happen?” she feigned innocence.

Dark Lothario pressed a few buttons on the key board and brought up the black and white image of Glory and her friend escaping down the hall way with Patricia in tow. They disappeared off camera quickly, and, Lola knew, just as quickly out of the building. “I know you had something to do with this.”

“Prove it,” she said, and stalked out of the room again, more than ready to go home.

*****

A/N: School is officially over, forever. I'm never going back. :) So we are back to our regularly scheduled updates. I feel really awful for taking so much time off. I did the math--I wrote less than 3,000 words last month, which is *horrible.*

So...yeah. We're back--thanks for everyone's patience. Between losing my house, my cats, and finishing school (I'm down to 3 cats from 16 and living in my grandmother's basement right now) I was in no shape to do anything other than watch season after season of Doctor Who and try not to fail my classes.