Chapter Eleven: The Blackmail Begins by Tina Semanas Exhausted was too trifling a word for how Beck was feeling. After Vanity Week's first day of non-stop vlogging; returning to her city apartment, Beck wanted to crawl into a deep, dark hole and die. Reporting on the "Fashion & Faces Parade" sucked every last drop of adrenline from her system. And pounding on the gray matter of her spent mind was the haunting reality that this was only the first night - - she had four more to go! Collapsing on a luxiourous queen-sized mattress in her massive Manhattan rental, Beck rubbed her aching temples trying to relieve some tension. Rambling cynically, Beck engaged in a hot debate with herself, "Beck, you fool, how much longer will you do this? No rational being can keep acting interested in the never ending camel train of such imbecilic and dizzy-headed girls. I have never seen so many no-talent, wanna-be fashion models prancing around like a bunch of stuffed peacocks for 10 straight hours in my life! Don't these spoiled debutantes know that anyone can squeeze into a plastic butt-hugging gown, apply cosmetic enhancements, make digital edits on a stupid photo-shoot, and then have their rich mothers and wealthy clothing companies payoff the judges just so thier wonderful, special, fabulous daughters might have a chance at being named this year's goddess? It makes me sick." Thinking back to earlier in the day and the vacuous interviews she had with most of the contestants, Beck asked herself, "Why are these women so in love with themselves? They can't do anything but smile and strut - - that is not talent!" With ears still ringing from the beating fashion show music and her head pounding, Beck reluctantly stood up and walked to the bathroom in order to take off the thick layer of paint she was wearing on her face. Did she look as bad as she felt? A large wall-sized crystal glass mirror was placed above a bleached white vanity counter-top in the sprawling bathroom. Wincing, Beck noticed the weathered face that was staring back at her. She couldn't believe it, thick new wrinkles and dark rings were forming under both eyes. "Beck, you're not as young as you used to be." Grabbing a tube of the newest bio-facial cleanser, she squirted out a healthy amount of the green lotion to apply across her face. Beck laughed, "What a joke, when will I and other unsatisfied queens like me ever realize just how empty this endless chasing of beauty really is? Once you think you caught it, time steals it back. And lurking in the shadows, there is always that younger she-devil, with softer skin, toner limbs, and finer clothes who has come to take away your spotlight. Image and managing charm -- the Dowager's never ending bloodsport." Beck wondered if maybe Athan was right? "I should just quit my job and forget the world." Oh, Athan...the thought of him caused Beck's heart to race. "I should call him. He knows how to calm me down." Punching in Athan's number on her flat pad, Beck waited for a response. Nothing. Two more times. Again, nothing. Placing her pad on the bathroom counter, she smiled remembering back to her Honeymoon and the early morning when she watched Athan sleeping soundly in bed, "I'll bet he's not answering because he is passed out on the couch, choking down his scotch, and hating every minute of the Vanity Night spectacle." Splashing her face with warm water, Beck longed to return with Athan to the dream that was Telluride. "Buzz, buzz." Her pad sprange to life. "Buzz, buzz." Grabbing for a towel to clean off the remainder of the green face scrub, Beck read the digital number that appeared on the screen. "It's Athan! But the call is coming from Xenia, Ohio. Wierd?" Touching to answer Beck said, "Athan, where are you?" "Hey Beck. I just want to let you know I have some business down in southern Ohio. I am just checking on some of my father's old businesses. They are having troubles and they need my help." "What?" Beck was confused, "Why do they need you? I thought you were done with them? And I didn't know your father had places down there...I thought all of the Stone Laboratories were around Cleveland?" Athan curtly responded, "I guess I never wanted to talk about it? I'll be gone for a few days." "A few days? I thought you would fly up and spend some time with me in New York on Thursday and Friday? We could hit the restaraunts on Time's Square?" Athan was irritated, "Beck, I don't want to be anywhere near New York during this stupid holiday season. You know how I despise the pretension surrounding Vanity Night. I know you love all the plastic people and the State's orchastrated facade of female empowerment, but I dont have time for it. I live in reality." Beck was caught off gaurd by his caustic tone. This wasn't the man she knew. "Are you sure you don't want to come and hang out with your 'wife?' The place I rented is amazing, and so is the hot tub?" In cool indifference, Athan replied, "Have fun Beck. Hope your vlogging goes well? Talk to you tomorrow. Click." The connection abruptly shut off leaving Beck in stunned silence. "What just happened?" She wondered to herself. "I have never heard Athan so disinterested, so distant. Usually he wants to talk?" Wiping off the rest of the cleanser and throwing the towel at her angry visage in the mirror, Beck turned and went back to the main room falling heavy on the bed. Buring her head deep under her pillow, she wanted to hide away forever. She never felt more alone. _____________________________________________________________________ Real hot showers, a soft bunk, and scrambled eggs! Drew knew he had cheated the odds and been given a new lease on life - - but what kind of life? Since their arrival at Kramer's the night before, Drew for the first time in a long time, felt a sense of peace. He didn't have to be on the run forever. Here in the safehouse of the LR, there was a whole city of friendlies living and working in a labyrinth of tunnels and massive rooms deep underneath the ground. Thousands of monitors were mounted to every avaible bit of wallspace in every room, and some were even affixed on the cielings. On these same monitors danced pixilated images lighting up the dark research areas, from corner to crevice, with pulsating hues of blues and greens, and in every room were seated men and women wearing serious faces, ever vigilant - - taking notes and recording movements of the State's police force. Across one monitor Drew saw his face, the scroll bar underneath screamed in silence, "wanted....large...reward...notify your local NWP agent...". On another monitor, there was Phen. Arial photos were flashed of possible escape routes, search helicopters littered the sky, female news reporters looked desperate. On another wall stood a bank of 10 to 12 monitors picturing downtown New York City in real-time, where colorful crowds were just kicking off the celebration for Vanity Night's day two festivities. Drew remembered how just a year before he and Ara would be sitting in the basement watching the holiday action non-stop. "Ara? I wonder how Ara is doing?" "How do you like being hunted?" A large hand squezzed Drew's shoulder. Looking up, Drew saw Jim DeFabio's bearded face smiling down on him. "I don't really know. I have been drugged up so much for the last few months I am not sure about anything anymore. Life is a constant fog." Drew replied. Jim offered Drew some reassurance, "Don't worry son, you have come to the right place. LR is the securest place on the planet. Funded by Stone Industries, we are able to access governmental computers and national survelience reports without being detected. We know where the State's police force is at all times. We have hacked thier communications, so you and your dad... I mean your home mentor...are safe here." The giant of a man lumbered back upstairs to return to his normal post, playing his part well, as bartender of Kramer's bar. Looking back up on the screen where the Vanity festivities were taking place, Drew once again thought of Ara. "I haven't spoken to her since Dia's death and that horrible night I was thrown in the black rover. I wonder how she is doing?" Heading back to his bunkroom to catch on a few more hours of rest, Drew noticed an empty room with a small desk and on top sat an auto-think processor, connected to a familiar looking blinking screen. He remembers reading about this new technology in class, with cellular array processing bits, the enhanced speed and AI capabilities were mindblowing. Noticing the verbal response unit on the side of the unit, he decided to sneak in and take a try at locating Ara. "Computer, search Ara Dias, Girl's Development Institute, Westlake, Ohio." Watching the blinking screen, a white soft tapering light responded in a friendly female voice, "Searching for Ara Dias. . . . . .locating 3 correlating matches: Ara Dias, student at Girl's Development Institute, contact Duenna Madylyn Black at this number"...blinking....blinking... "Ara Dias, Colleen Camp Entrance results, contact Vitup review board at this number"...blinking...blinking..."'Next of Kin', Lacy Dias, retired Termagant Officer, employed at the Dowager V.I.P. Security Unit, current residence, M. Sanger Luxury Condominiums, Room 217, Bay Village, Ohio, contact this number." Drew finding a scratch pad and small hardpen, wrote down all three numbers, circling the final number. There was something different about this contact? Lacy Dias? "Computer, search public records for Lacy Dias." The white soft light responded in same voice, "Searching for Lacy Dias...20 correlating matches: Truthfinder search located Lacy Dias. Related to Roberta Dias, Dia Dias (deceased), and Thomas Dias (deceased). Plaintiff in Cuyuhoga County Municiple Court, Docket Pending...." The name popped-out at him like a neon sign, "Dia Dias (deceased)." This woman was his mom's sister, his aunt! No wonder she is Ara's "Next of Kin", the title for secondary responsibility after the mother and in-home mentor cannot fulfill duties. Drew knew this is where Ara must be. Itching his palm he wondered if he should call? "Computer dial M. Sanger Luxury Condominiums, room 217." The blinking screen started instantly dialing as it switched to all black with a faint ringing noise heard on the small speakers. After four rings, someone picked up on the other end, "Yeah, Lacy Dias here. Who is this?" Drew couldn't speak. "Lacy Dias, who is this?" No response as he tapped the off button on the computer screen. Drew realized last minute that he could be compromising his position. He thought to himself, "Whew, that was close, you stupid idoit." ______________________________________________________________________________ After hanging up the phone, Lacy went back to the kitchen to continue rolling pink, wet strips of fresh chicken in egg-batter and a flakey seasoned breading. Ara was scribbling school notes on the couch not thinking much of the call Lacy just recieved. "I got it! I got it!" A skinny pinched nosed woman with a short crop-cut of greasy black hair and glasses came out of the back room of Lacy's apartment smiling. Holding a touch pad with a set of algorithmic numbers she motioned for Lacy to look, "Duenna Black was right! That call you just got Lacy is encrypted with a non-source identification. I have it all recorded here and I am sure this is what we have been waiting for. Once we figure out what these numbers mean, we can pinpoint the call, and I am sure it will be one of the fugitives trying to contact you Ara." Lacy didn't look, nor did she care, being too busy fixing her evening meal. Ara dropped her pen, "What do you mean Dr. Babbit? Do you think they would be stupid enough to call?" Ara was hoping it didn't turn out to be Drew or Phen, she didn't want to be put in the spot of reporting them to the State. She didn't want her loyalties tested. Even though she longed to see her brother, she wanted to be simply left alone. Dr. Babbit looked closely at the numbers while punching various buttons on her pad. "I really think I can pinpoint the location of the call. Duenna Black was somehow able to get her hands on some sophisticated software, it can decode almost anything." Punching a few more numbers the pad responded quickly, "Calculating, calculating...the area code for the incoming call is 9. . .3. . .7." A large map of southern ohio focused in on the city of Dayton, Ohio. With a blinking pin toward the southern part of the map. Dr. Babbit grew excited. I better call Duenna Black, I think I have a location. Dialing a number from her pad you could hear a faint voice on the other end, "Hello, this is Duenna Black. Dr. Babbit, is that you?" Peering over a skinny pair of clear glasses, Dr. Babbit in nervous excitement responded, "Duenna, I know the location. Area code 937 places a 10 second call from Dayton, Ohio. It seems to be coming from an area that once was around a University campus. That is all I know. What do you want me to do?" On the other end of the call you could hear Duenna Black responding, "Ok, very good work. Is it possible to call the number back?" Dr Babbit punched some more numbers on her pad. "Duenna Black, I think so. I think I can? There seems to be two possible numbers that this detection software seemed to pick up. The other number seems to be a government issued account. What should I do?" On the other end Duenna Black shot back a response, "Have Ara call them both and have her ask for Drew." Ara's heart sunk, she wanted to run as far away from this as she could. Dr. Babbit dialed the first number and handed the pad to Ara. "What do you want me to do?" Ara snapped. "Ask for Drew, that is all." As the pad dialed, Ara could hear her heart beating in her ears, thinking to herself, "Please, please Drew, do not pick up." After seven rings, no answer. "Must not be a real number, " Ara said handing the pad back. Dr. Babbit dialed another number, "Here girl, I dialed the second number, ask for Drew." Gulping down some air, Ara again waited for the ring. Ring...ring...ring..."Who is this and how did you get this number?" Ara's eyes went wide and whispered to Dr. Babbit, "What do I do, someone answered?" "Dammint girl, ask for Drew." Ara held the pad tight, "Is Drew Dias there?" There was a moment of silence, and a voice on the other line said, "Who is this? There is no one by that name here, I am Athan Stone the sole person registered to this number. Please give me your name." Ara dripping a bead of sweat answered, "I am sorry sir, I dialed the wrong number." On the other end you could hear the clear demands through the pad's speaker, "I demand to know who gave you this unregistered number?" Dr. Babbit pushed the screen of the pad to hang up. Ara asked, "What just happened?" Dr. Babbit smiled, "I think we hit the jackpot." Reconnecting with Duenna Black, Dr. Babbit said, "My dear Duenna, one of the numbers linked us to a government access only number linked to Athan Stone, a chemist hired and then bought out by The Sisters. He sounded furious after he heard the name Drew Dias. I think we found what you were looking for. A way to impress The Conclave." On the other end of the line you could hear Duenna Black's short reply, "Excellent!" Towering over Ara and Dr. Babbit, Lacy came near wiping her hands on a washcloth, "Ara, did you say Athan Stone?" Looking nervous Ara nodded. "Athan Stone, that is Beck's new money target, he's a freaking millionaire and son of a famous chemist. What would he be doing communicating with two escape fugatives? Are you sure he said Athan Stone?" Ara nodded once again. It was the first time Lacy smiled in years...
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