Twisted Circles Chapter 1 Part 2
Derrick stood quietly in the corner of THEIR bedroom. In the corner of his own mind it was as it always had been. He looked around at the one room in their whole house that no one, other than he and Bria, was allowed to enter. Not that it was some shrine or anything, it was just that if anyone saw the inside of their bedroom he would never again command the respect that he had always felt was his due.
The room was decorated in what he would call 'wife and whipped hubby' Early American. The large canopied oak bed was covered with more pillows than an army would need, and the selection of stuffed animals was enough to make a toy manufacturer jealous. Normal curtains hung on the wall, but lacy cloth things covered every foot of furniture. The hardwood furnishings were completely covered in pastel colored knickknacks, from little unicorn statues to Barbie dolls. The demolition master hung his head in shame. At least his own clothing was adequate, farmland camo were the working clothes of all the farm hands on Jamestown, and on Jimtown if you weren't on a mission you were a farmhand. It didn't matter if you were a general or a private, during harvest time everyone worked in the fields.
"You haven't changed anything have you?" her voice low, asking more than her stated question. How could she not be here? How could he dream of his most treasured place without the most treasured person in his life being here? He could feel her touching the edge of his shields, waiting for his permission before entering inside them. "You've missed me," she said, her voice full of wonder. "And you still love me. Even after..." She let the words hang between them as he turned he saw the tears forming in her eyes.
"I always have, I always will," he stated calmly, as he walked up to her and encircled her in an almost bone crushing hug. "You are the only one I have left."
"Bester is getting pretty angry that they can't even get you out of your trance." She looked up with an evil smirk. "I have had to stop him several times to keep him from killing you. You always were a hard headed bastard."
"Psi Corps has relied for so long on telepathic torture that they aren't very good at getting information without it." He rested his face in her hair, just breathing in the scent of her. That was one of the things he missed most about her, that and her wicked sense of humor.
"Glad you think so." Her head turned as her eyes sought out his. "Bester wants me to finish the job he started. Just say the word and I'll fry his brain. It'll get us both killed, but I can't think of a better person to die with."
Derrick began to chuckle softly. "How did a nice peace loving guy like me get hooked up with a woman that thinks dying together is romantic?"
Her eyes narrowed briefly and then Derrick felt a sudden stabbing pain in his head that was just as quickly gone. "Just lucky I guess," his wife replied with her patented little smirk.
Bester was growing tired of the game. He had physically beaten the man senseless, but it didn't even seem to bother the Ranger. From the little they could tell with telepathy the man was hiding within his own mind. Bester had tortured many mundanes and more than a few teeps, but he'd never had to use such extreme physical measures. It was beginning to get to him. The only thing that stopped him was the order from the Director of Psi Corps, and the crazy woman behind him. As he looked around he saw the blonde woman's eyes snap open suddenly, and she had a small smirk on her face that caused Bester's heart to go cold. The woman was too dangerous to live, and yet the Director wanted her not only left alone, but made a part of Psi Corps.
As he looked back at the tall slender brown haired individual the man's eyes were open and he was smiling through the blood, bruises and broken teeth that made up what was once his face. As the man smiled Bester began to wonder if he could ever break him.
As Derrick awakened from his self induced trance he glanced around the shadow shrouded room. He was in his element. The darkness had ever been his ally. He glanced over to the old fashioned bars where his wife stood smiling. She was obviously enjoying herself. He could move just enough to feel his broken ribs. He ran his tongue across his mouth to assess the damage. Three broken teeth and four cuts on the inside of his mouth.
"You will be broken, Mr. Newton, or should I call you Ranger Newton?" Bester began the litany of mandatory interrogation chatter that Derrick had heard too many times by so many different races for it to even matter any more.
Derrick began to bob his head and stare at the ceiling. "Yadda, yadda, yadda...I am the great Bester and I will flay the skin from your body...Yadda, yadda, yadda, ...you will talk or I will destroy you, ...Yadda, yadda, yadda." Suddenly Derrick drew himself up to his full height for effect and spoke. "I am a Ranger, we walk in the dark places where others fear to tread, we stand on the bridge and none may pass. Then you'll cut me some more and I'll refuse to scream and you'll get angrier, bloodier. I guess what I am saying Alfie is do your worst. You're beginning to bore the hell out of me."
Bria stood away from the bars eyeing the room. Derrick had known her to long not to know what she was thinking, How many of them can we kill before they get us? [Say the word Ric and we're out of here.] The thought came into his mind, but he knew it wasn't time yet.
[No love, there is help on the way.]
Bria sauntered over to Bester, her smile both mocking and yet inviting. "Alfie, you know the Director doesn't want him dead, just like you can't kill me." Her finger slowly traced the line of his jaw. "He said if you kill either one of us he'll kill you. Although..." she trailed off as she stepped back and put her chin in her palm, "He didn't say what would happen if we kill you." Her voice was like honey yet the look in her eyes was death.
"Alfie, Alfie," Derrick's voice was mock reproachful. "You haven't been flirting with my wife have you?" He then looked suddenly at the ceiling as if he had just remembered something. "That's right, your hand isn't the only thing that doesn't function anymore. I really am sorry. A lot of men have similar problems," he glanced pointedly at Bester's groin.
Bester looked from one to the other of the Newtons then stormed from the room.
[Smartass,] Bria's voice said in her husband's mind.
[That's the reason you love me,] he replied.
She turned to stare at him. [One of the many,] her soft voice echoed in his mind.
To be continued . . . ?