Who Hears the Crying of Children? (Spectre)

[Mirrora]

“Shh, baby. Don’t cry, this will only take a second, you’re helping your kind.”
<o></o>
Doctor Cahill had said that to that boy; a mutant boy, right before pumping one more load of morphine. That simple, medical drug was the only thing keeping his pain at bay; after all that they had done to him…that poor boy. His name was Blake Messin, thirteen years old, blazing red hair, blue eyes, pale skin that only seemed to pale further from all those ruthless tests. It took everything Maleigha Scott had not to mirrorize that man’s face and then smash it to pieces.
<o></o>
Blake Messin had the ability to compress objects with his mind; a beautiful power in Mirrora’s eyes. However, not everyone shared her thoughts; Doctor Cahill being one of them. He was a strong mutant hater, saying that they were disgusting filth that deformed the status of society. That grade-A SOB…if he only knew what she was.
<o></o>
Maleigha slammed her fist onto the bar counter, it was so frustrating and even more infuriating what they were doing to mutants at the Jericho Center for Genetic Medicine. Doctor Cahill and his kind called mutants ‘monsters’; if only he realized what he was doing. Mutants were human’s as well!
<o></o>
A groan escaped her lips as the bartender, Kaleb, passed by in front of her. Upon hearing her, he stopped, setting the glass he was drying down on the counter.
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“What’s eattin’ ya, Leigha?” His <st1>Bronx</st1> accent was something to be admired. Mirrora rubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes.
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“Work.” She signed deeply dropping her arms on top of the bar top.
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“I kno’ whacha mean, girly. How’s da college life treatin’ ya?”
<o></o>
She shrugged. “It’s going well. There’s only so much I can take of Sanford-Brown, you know?”
<o></o>
“Eh, I guess, personally I couldn’ stand dat hellhole.” Kaleb said. “Ya want ‘nother soda?”
<o></o>
Mirrora shook her head before laying it down on top of her arms. College, working at Jericho, the stress of keeping her apartment, keeping food on the table for her, and feeding her cat was killing her….not to mention keeping her “secret” a secret.
<o></o>
“Just so’s ya kno’, we’re closin’ in ten mintues.” Kaleb’s voice echoed out of the kitchen. Maleigha was thinking so much that she didn’t even know he moved. The Miranda Manor was always the last bar to close down on campus and Mirrora was actually surprised that it was so late. Gathering her coat and purse, she moved off the stool seat and headed for the door, throwing a casual ‘good night’ to Kaleb and the boys in the kitchen as she passed by.
<o></o>
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<o></o>
The park was beautiful tonight and Maleigha just couldn’t enjoy it. All she could think about was Blake Messin…he would probably die at <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Jericho</st1></st1:city>. She held her scarf in her hands as she stopped on a bridge over her favorite little stream.
<o></o>
Yes, Mirrora was a mutant.
<o></o>
She watched as a familiar substance began to leak from her fingers; sliding over the scarf in a beautiful painted coat. When her own reflection stared back at her, she dropped the shiny scarf.
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For the next minute, she stayed there, staring at her own reflection at her feet. What kind of a person was she to let those people destroy the lives of mutant children….or any mutant? She began to shake in fury.
<o></o>
With a short outcry she stomped her green and black Converse into the now solid mirror heap, causing it to shatter into a hundred pieces.
<o></o>
What the hell was wrong with her?!

[Spectre]

Elsewhere in the park, a woman cradled a tall, lidded cup of coffee in each hand. She followed the path along a bend and stepped up into the covered gazebo, plopping down beside a young boy and handed him over the second cup.

I'm suspicisous that it might have been the bottom of the pot.. sorry.

She popped the plastic tab on her coffee's lid back and took the first sip of the almond latte with a half-smile of delight. It was so nice when people were good at their job. She was glad she'd tipped the barista for this one...

So, she'll be walking by this way on her way home anytime now. Routine for her after she leaves the bar after closing hours.

Their work tonight was simple. Retrieve the Jericho Center's busy little bee, Maleigha Scott and recruit her by whatever means necessary for the removal of a young boy from her less than savory place of employment. It should be a simple matter of persuasion to get her to come along, providing she wasn't armed with a 'squealer' that would sound off if Spectre used her abilities on her. In which case, something a bit more expedidient would be required...

Spectre was not looking forward to returning to the Jericho Center. Her last visit there, though not entirely unsuccessful had left her more than just depleted, but she'd also taken something of a beating. It was not a situation that she intended to put herself in again.

[Mute]

He cupped the drink gingerly in his hands and enjoyed the warmth spreading to his palms and fingers. The steam curled slowly upwards and he winced upon catching a whiff of its strong aroma. Coffee wasn't for him and he could only bring himself to drink it if it was black; anything else was too rich. He'd have liked a hot chocolate but he kept that to himself, which was difficult considering the company he kept. He braved a sip.

They sat in silence on a freshly varnished bench, it bore a plaque dedicating it to the memory of a doctor. The elevated gazebo gave them a decent view of the grounds, particularly of a path which snaked off in the direction of flowing water; they heard it sloshing against the bank and burbling over rocks in the distance. Overhead there was a canopy of roof shingle, it was supported by sturdy oaken beams painted green, and kept the quiet pair hidden from the glare of campus lights.

He looked at his comrade, the shadow lent her pale features a dark velvet beauty and her eyes twinkled at him like secret stars. They never spoke to each other in private. It wasn't needed. He wanted to know how they were to approach their target and didn't need to ask.

[Mirrora]

The simple life was something that the young women could only admire from afar; Maleigha observed a boy and girl walk hand-in-hand passed the bridge at her right. It wasn’t uncommon for her to see a few late night couples stumbling their way through campus and back to their place after a long night of clubbing for a little extra “dancing” of their own. However, as she watched the younger couple slip farther down the path which was barely brightened with the dimly lit lights, she realized that this couple was legitimate, in other words, completely sober and just out for a romantic walk.
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…how cute…
<o></o>
Maleigha Scott hoisted her black leather purse, which was more like a side bag, back up onto her shoulder, before turning to the left and stepping off her “safe house” of a bridge. Very leisurely, she meandered down the winding path toward her apartment.
<o></o>
A chill ran down her spine as she approached the middle of the park, the night air was relatively cool and Mirrora instinctively pulled her crimson, thigh length Pea coat closer around her with a snug jerk from her gloved hands. The grounds of the park could be dangerous under the darkness of night, but she wasn’t all too worried; her talents were the major phase of her self-defense, however, she had also gone through jujitsu as a child, and then wrestling with the boy’s team when she was in high school. To say the least, she knew how to handle herself.
<o></o>
Maleigha relished the warmth of her coat and gloves as she stepped over the threshold of the garden’s main citadel. At the center of the garden was a pretty decent sized gazebo that was still beautiful, even with a few graffiti markings on its painted truss’. She approached the building fearlessly, this was a part of the park that she enjoyed the most; there were statues of gargoyles and famous people, such as past presidents and of course the first dean of Sanford-Brown Institute.
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Her wandering mind was tricked back into reality when the distant sound of spray painting caught her ear….not again.
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She turned quickly, causing her loose hair to whirl in display of blonde waves. It didn’t take long to identify where the sound was coming from. She hurried laterally and spotted the culprit.
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“Hey, stop it!” Her voice rang out in the night, causing the masked youngster whipped around. Upon seeing her closing in on him, he dropped the paint can and darted off into the thickness of the darkened trees. Maleigha watched gravely as the body disappeared; the retreating figure couldn’t have been more than a young teenager. Reluctantly, she crouched down and picked up the can; eyeing it as if it were foreign jewelry.
<o></o>
Shaking her head, Mirrora peered up at the towering statue in front of her; even to her the artwork was a little bit eerie. The copper body had been formed into that of a muscular man, but the head seemed to be one of a demon-like goblin…it hardly matched the rest of the garden artwork. However, her attention was caught by something more pressing as she examined the base of the statue; there in neon bright red letters printed in a sloppy array read the words…
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Mutant Abomination
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With no more than a sigh, Maleigha stood and dropped the half empty can in a near by trashcan. Her eyes never leaving those dripping wet words of hate as she peered almost apologetically at the ruined artwork in front of her.

[Spectre]

Sensing, rather than hearing the questions from her young protégé, Spectre set his curious mind at ease.

As far as she knows, for now, we are just late stragglers through the park at night. Once we're close to her, I won't let her get away.. She won't have been the first girl to disappear from this park on her way home..

Her latte had been good, too good maybe. After scalding the roof of her mouth, she finished it quickly, swallowed down the last of it and tossed the empty cup in the trash. Footsteps approaching alerted them to the possibility that their guest for the evening might be coming. Spectre rose silently and descended the gazebo steps.

It was her alright. They had several pictures of the girl to go on, courtesy of Tron. Spectre even recognized the red coat from one photo.. Marleigha was standing in front of a freshly painted message, defacing some of the parks statuary, and as they walked up behind her, she rid herself of the spray can..

"Talk about taking your work home with you...." Spectre said, immediately seizing the girl's mind, preventing her from fleeing, or calling for help...

[Mute]

Mute followed her from the gazebo, falling perfectly in step alongside her as they crossed the grass to where the girl stood frozen. When Spectre came to a stop, he walked on until he arrived at the trash can. He scowled at the hateful grafitti then peered inside and fished out the incriminating evidence. He gave the cannister a vigorous shake and approached the defaced statue. While Spectre did her thing, he went to painting over the message, but only some of it. The hissing of spray paint came to an end and he threw the empty cannister into the trash can with a resounding clang. His comrade's voice was low and hypnotic, she gazed into the eyes of the girl and told her what she needed to hear. Behind them, the statue was emblazoned with a new message:

MUTANT NATION

[Mirrora]

To be suddenly seized without so much as a sound was the last thing Maleigha had ever thought would happen. Especially in a place she felt most comfortable; it was weird and frightening. Aside from the sharp gasp she had initially drawn in after realizing the presence of the two others, she made no sound. What did they want?
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Her instincts screamed at her to run, which she probably would have if she actually had ability to move her limbs…what was this?
<o></o>
The stranger in front of her was a woman, a pretty woman at that. Both Mirrora and the strange woman had, even in the dimly lit area, similar characteristics; thin, soft featured, pale, slightly slanted eyes, and most noticeably their sun-blonde hair. However, she stopped analyzing their common traits when she realized that this could potentially be a dangerous situation…who was she kidding? This was a VERY dangerous situation; she didn’t even know these people.
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Her attention was focused on the woman; Maleigha had yet to notice the young man that followed behind the woman. As her mind wandered over her present crisis, the nervousness of overwhelming butterflies battered against the inside of her abdomen. She was afraid…although, the thought lingered in her head that if this woman wanted to kill her, the foreign blonde would have done it already.
<o></o>
Her green and cyan tortoiseshell eyes locked with those of the woman in front of her…‘who are you?’ she thought frantically, thinking no one could hear her.

[Spectre]

"Who am I...?" She smiled, cold and calculated. "I am the one who is calling the shots. You are the one who should have found a more seemly place to collect a paycheck from..."

Spectre swung her bright green gaze over to Mute and his quick alteration to the 'writing on the wall' or statue, as it were. It was a great improvment. She nodded in approval.

"Let's go." Maleigha found herself walking along in between the two strangers, like a marionette being controlled by a master puppeteer. "This will be much easier on you, dearest.." She said with more than a little loathing, "..if you just cooperate and don't try anything funny. We have a job to do, and you are going to help us.."

[Mute]

He flanked their captive and kept a keen eye on their surroundings. His walk was casual, they made a perfectly passable trio wandering through a college campus. He listened to Spectre's voice with relish and a wicked grin stretched across his face; he envied her gift and admired her masterful control of it. She was the perfect operative and she did it with such class.

The path curled around the outskirts of the grounds, and a wall of greenery stretched the length of the outer fence until it reached an open gate. The road beyond was dark and still. He sucked in the crisp night air and sighed, taking plenty of enjoyment in their evening stroll.

[Mirrora]

It was hard for her to listen, when her legs seemed to carry her like they had a mind of their own. The young woman fought the sensation but with no avail; her serene walk home had definately taken a turn for the worse and very apparently she had no control over what was happening. It was also about the time her legs started moving by themselves that she noticed the young man; he had been so quiet, no wonder she didn't sense him to begin with.

To say the least her situation...sucked and the odds of her escaping or running away were less than zero percent.

Her brow pulled downward after she actually registered what the strange woman had said to her. She was calling all the shots? There was no way this could be real...and why didn't her friggin' legs work?!

Suddenly, she realized it. The two strangers were both mutants, how could she have been so dense!

Mirrora narrowed her eyes at the statement about finding a more suitable place to find a "paycheck". She was talking about Jericho, there was no doubt about that and also apparent, she knew that Maleigha was an employee there. This wasn't a joke at all.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice rasped through her strained vocal cords; she was still trying to resist her uncontrolled movements. "What job?"

[Spectre]

"Oh, don't be modest.."

Spectre kept the bittersweet tone in her voice. Her possession of the girl's mind never ceased as she continued guiding their happy little trio out of the park and down the street toward the parked sedan.

"You are a promising, career-minded young lady with a bright future ahead of you at the Jericho Center. I'm quite certain that your parents are very proud of you."

She pulled a set of keys from her pocket and hit the button on the remote to unlock the car..

"So the choice is your own, Marleigha. Sit quietly in the back seat and behave, or wake up in a trunk with a very bad headache, what's it to be?"

[Mirrora]

There was something in the strange woman's voice that made her tick. Her eyes narrowed and a new emotion flared...anger. It wasn't helping her in her present situation; being upset wasn't going to help her right now. Her mind raced as she thought of a way to get out of this.

Nothing came to her mind. Damn.

Plus, her legs still didn't work under her control.

Finally, she let out a hard sigh, she had no choice. "You could have asked nicely."

Her aqua eyes darted from the woman to the young man beside her before looking at the sedan. Reluctantly she spoke. "I'll do what you want."

[Spectre]

"Sweetie, considering who you work for, I'm being an Angel... I assure you... Get in."

She opened the door for the girl, made sure she sat and buckled herself in - safety first, then slammed the door shut. Keeping her mind on the girl, but talking to her partner, (although it would appear they'd just decided to stare each other down), she walked around to the drivers side door..

'That was perfect. Keep an eye on her until we get back to the house ok? We just have to make it to her next shift which is in...'

She glanced at her watch.

'..about nine hours. Then we use her to get the boy and she can go along her merry way..'

[Mute]

...to torture more innocents, he thought bitterly, finishing Spectre's words for her. He gave her a curt nod and rounded the car. The door opened and he settled into the back seat next to the young woman. Her attention was fixed on Spectre, the woman keeping her still and silent, anger burned in her eyes. She amused him and he gave her a wink before leaning back into his seat. The engine started up and the car rolled quietly away from the campus, its student body now down by one.

[Mirrora]

The blond found herself even more frustrated as the young man next to her seemed to be more than amused by her present situation. She hated the feeling of hopelessness; this present moment was no exception.

Out the window, she watched the hazey street lights go by; they were leaving campus...

Swell.

Beside her, the boy seemed quite comfortable and up front the woman merely ignored her. After a while of childishly staring daggers into the back of the woman's head, Maleigha gave up and sunk into the leather seat.

She peered sideways at the boy. He wasn't one for words...

"Don't you say anything?"

[Spectre]

Considering her sudden sense of attachement to Mute, one would have thought Spectre would have slammed on the brakes and rethought the comforting confines of the trunk for Marleigha after her rude commentary.. Instead, she just smiled into the rearview mirror at the boy in question, then at the girl next to him.

"Maybe he just doesn't like you."

She could have brought them to one of the Brotherhood houses, but as she did actually intend to let their little accomplice leave, after she'd served her purpose, that was not a good idea. So a run-down interstate motel would serve them for tonight.

No sense in treating the mutant hater to a night of pleasure..

What room number is it again? , she asked Mute, via their own special connection.

[Mute]

Room eleven, he answered, it's the end room on the second floor giving us a vantage point overlooking the freeway traffic. His mind worked like that, he'd recently discovered, and Spectre trusted him with making such preparatory decisions. He'd also elected to take first watch since he was aware his comrades exertions would leave her drained. There was a part of him that wished for a complication to arise during the operation and his watch was ever vigilant.

They drove for twenty minutes until a familiar sign rose up behind the glare of headlamps. Black letters stood bold against a backdrop of white light: M TEL it read. They turned off the freeway and came to a stop in the barren parking lot beneath their room. When the engine died there was nothing but the buzz of nearby traffic breaking the silence. Mute opened his door and left the women alone in the car while he made a trip to the reception.

[Mirrora]

The motel was definitely something that wouldn’t be posted in The World’s Greatest Places to Stay catalog; in reality it looked rather shotty. But who was she to judge, it absolutely surpassed a 10 on the creepiness scale, all it needed now was cob webs and bats flying out the shady looking ceiling.
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When they pulled up to a sure stop the boy hopped out and went into the main office. The glass from the wooden door’s window shook as it closed harshly.
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Maleigha continued to look out the window; checking her surroundings. It didn’t look too promising, there was a freeway….and a vending machine. The chances of her being successful in making a run for it wasn’t looking too good; she slouched back in her seat and peered into the rear view mirror at the woman in the front seat.
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They knew she worked at <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Jericho</st1></st1:city>…how? She understood the hatred that the woman and young man obviously had against her; if only they knew how much it hurt her to stand there and watch as doctors poked and prodded young and old mutants with needles. She was there to help them get through their pain and one or two of them knew she was a mutant as well…she smiled to herself…Blake Messin knew of her abilities and always wanted to know more about her.
<o></o>
That little boy kept her secret safe and she admired him for it.
<o></o>
She shook herself back to her current crisis and smirked because of the awkward silence that filled the vehicle.
<o></o>
“He’s really cute.” Mirrora said. She was looking for a reaction, anything to poke weakness at. She knew that using her talents wouldn’t help her as of right now, so she relied on a verbal encounter. “Are he and you...ya know…an item?”

[Spectre]

The green eyes in the rearview mirror were fixed on the girl in the back seat, clearly amused with her attempts at rattling her solid composure. It would have been a charming tactic, were Spectre not already lurking around in her thoughts waiting for just such a ploy..

"Nice.. I'm glad you noticed." Spectre slid her gaze over toward the office watching for Mute to return with the room key so they could take their little friend upstairs.

"Why so curious..?" She answered noncommital..

[Mirrora]

Mirrora shurgged and kept a small grin hidden in the darkened light. "I'm just curious. Just stating what I see, I guess. Unless that bothers you?"

She watched through the front window as the woman, mirroring her movements. Maleigha Scott wasn't one for games, especially ones that could be potentionally deadly to her and this particular game was making her giddy. She shifted in the back seat, tugging annoyingly at the seat belt...

This was not amusing, since the woman had obviously caught on to her game in its early stages...she really wasn't looking forward to what was coming next.

She unbuckled herself and continued to sulk in the darkened back seat. How grim.

[Mute]

A minute later, Mute emerged from the reception with their room key. It hung from his index finger, the silver keyring gleamed under the garish lighting, and he swung it quite casually while he approached the car. He caught Spectre's eyes within the car. We have a reservation under the name Wilkinson, he thought pointedly. He wondered what his voice sounded like in her head.

Upon arriving at the car, he wasted no time in opening the door so that their captive could climb out, albeit not of her own accord. He watched her with a thin smile and cold amusement in his eyes. Spectre climbed out and joined them, he motioned to Maleigha to lead the way.

[Spectre]

"Ok, here we go.. up." Spectre followed along behind Maleigha, up the concrete steps, with the iron banister which badly needed another coat of the lime green paint it had once boatsted, to the second floor landing. She did take note of the vending machines at the opppsite end of the elevated walk way, nodding to Mute.

'Be thankful for the little things huh?'

Stopping her little friend just outside the room they would be occupying for the next few hours, Spectre moved aside for Mute to open the door. "In you go Miss Wilkinson.. Out of the night air. We're just going to sit cozy like and watch some television."

[Mirrora]

The younger blonde threw a cold glare of her own at the two strangers as she past by them and into the motel room. Everything seemed to be some shade, tint, and tone of…green, and it wasn’t the nice green either. Gross. Maleigha stepped further into the room before looking around the green palace.
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A simple queen-sized bed, a small couch, one wooden study chair, one nightstand, one moderately sized wooden table, two wall lamps, one standing lamp, and a television set that looked older than Maleigha….cool. It was about as leisurely it was going to get and truth be told, she didn’t want to know what the bathroom looked like; after all, there were probably cockroaches crawling around in there.
<o></o>
Maleigha sighed and took a seat on the far end of the small green-brown couch; well, whatever was going to come, she was going to find out soon.
<o></o>
“Now that you’ve pretty much kidnapped me and driven me to the middle of no where, what do you want from me? This isn’t exactly the best area to off somebody, ya know.”

[Mute]

The door closed behind him with a rattling thud, shutting out the pale glare and restoring the abode to its unwelcoming green murkiness. He drew the brown curtains, and across the room he heard their prisoner prattle in the dark. Suddenly, the standing lamp came to life, throwing long shafts of sweet golden brown along the walls, ceiling and floor. A fine plume of dust - which had been disturbed upon the arrival of the new inhabitants - drifted wearily in the ailing light. Mute stood alongside the lamp, staring at Maleigha, and in response to her words he simply pressed a finger to his lips and silently shushed her.

[Spectre]

What a ghastly room... It was in stark contrast to her elegant little space at the mansion, but it was only for a few hours, she'd cope. Spectre perched on the end of the bed and bounced a bit as if she were having a grand time of this abduction, but the truth was more sinister.. She was having fun tormenting the little miss from the Jericho center, and that was all.. They all deserved to suffer for what they did behind those walls.

"So.. Maleigha. We have some time to kill." She smiled bigger..

"Why not tell us about your big job at Jericho, hmmm...?"

[Mirrora]

Mirrora nearly growled at the woman; that thing had some nerve and was on the road to losing an arm. Her job at <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Jericho</st1> </st1:city>was nothing more that being an assistant; didn’t these two know that? They obviously knew a lot about her already…like her name for starters. This wasn’t funny to Maleigha and then fact that these two strangers thought this situation was amusing infuriated her.
<o></o>
“What’s it to you?” She snarled from her spot on the couch. She knew what they felt, she hated working there…she would never hurt something of her own kind. What theses two and the doctors didn’t know is that every drug that was injected into her temporary patients by her was a mere placebo. Mirrora was keeping those mutants alive…not killing them.
<o></o>
She wanted to scream at these two. Scream to leave her alone, anything to just stop herself from thinking about <st1><st1:city w:st="on">Jericho</st1:city></st1> and horrific things they did there.
<o></o>
Maleigha Scott breathed heavily, calming herself. She might as well cooperate, what else could she do?
<o></o>
“I’m just an assistant, I supply and prepare the narcotics. Otherwise, I keep a clear evaluation on the behavior of the patients I’m assigned. I’m not a doctor, only an aid.”

[Mute]

She supplies the narcotics, he brooded hatefully. He was no psychic yet her agitation was apparent to him in the tone of her voice. In case she decided to make a run for it, he repositioned himself so that he stood in front of the door. His arms were folded and his eyes burned intensely in the gloom. Her nonchalant attitude to mutant experimentation stirred his anger and his thoughts were loud enough to break the momentary silence: if you want to hit her, make sure it's below the neck and away from the arms, we don't want her going into work with any tell-tale bruises tomorrow.

[Mirrora]

The silence was something she couldn’t handle; Mirrora shifted uncomfortably on the couch while wrapping her red coat even tighter around herself. This wasn’t the most ideal predicament and there was nothing more she wanted to say about <st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Jericho</st1></st1:city>…
<o></o>
She looked from the boy, who had moved in front of the door, to the blonde woman on the bed and back to the boy. He said nothing, just like he had been; but it was obvious that hatred burned in his eyes. That this realization, the room suddenly got ten times colder, Maleigha’s brow creased in frustration and angst.
<o></o>
“What do you want me to say?” She spoke, very even-toned considering the situation she was in. “That I shouldn’t work there? I know what happens there and I’ve seen everything. If I could leave I would but it’s not like I can just up and go, once you know what goes on there you can’t get out.”
<o></o>
“I’ve tried all too many times.” She thought, but left it part unsaid.

[Spectre]

'She supplies the narcotics.' - Mute thought hatefully. Spectre only smiled at him.

She listened to Maleigha's little speech about how she prepared the narc's. Was it supposed to make a difference? Spectre didn't care if she scrubbed the toilet seats in the executive office wing. She worked in Hell and was one of the devils, and there was a reckoning coming their way.. What she did there hardly mattered.

'If you want to hit her, make sure it's below the neck and away from the arms, we don't want her going into work with any tell-tale bruises tomorrow.' - Mute again.

Her smiled deepened. Her silent friend didn't need any telepthic abilities to know exactly what was on her mind. The thought of cracking Miss Scott over the head with the chunky old hotel phone did have a certain amount of appeal, and it would keep them from having to babysit if she was out cold, they could grab some snacks, watch some SciFi...

'I’ve tried all too many times' The nearly heartbroken and angry thought, did not come from Mute. This one had come from the girl. Spectre quit smiling.

'You should have tried harder!' Spectre fairly screamed in Maleigha's mind. Clearly letting her know what she thought about her half hearted attempts to get herself out. Still, there was more to the story than the girl was admitting to.. Spectre could feel that, so she pressed on making Maleigha angry.

"Those kids do not need narcotics. If they weren't being torn apart and probed at, by people like you, they wouldn't be in pain to begin with." Spectre glared.

"Tell me... about Blake Messin." She commanded, forcing any thoughts Maleigha had of the boy to come to the surface of her mind..

[Mute]

While Maleigha spilled her tale, Mute was busy playing a rather tiny, imaginary violin. He stopped when she fell silent and became deadly still.

[Mirrora]

Instinctively, the girl clasped her hands frantically over her ears as the screaming started. What the hell?! The voice in her head came from the woman…but her mouth didn’t move? No way, the blonde was a mutant…and the young man in front of the door had a high probability of being one too.
<o></o>
Her realization was cut short and she physically froze dead still at the mention of Blake.
<o></o>
Maleigha began to shake in fury; the woman had hit a rather large bruise in Mirrora’s conscience and she didn’t try to hide it. These two had no right to talk about him; Blake, the boy who touched her so much.
<o></o>
“You don’t know anything.” Her venomous voice strained as her throat constricted. The tension in the room only thickened and her fists clenched tightly in reaction to the situation. “That boy is my main patient. I work with him everyday.”
<o></o>
Her fingers dug into her palms, the tiniest bit of shiny liquid leaked from her fingernails, barely noticeable. She pulled her legs up in front of her, making her sink into the couch as well as cover her agitation. Her forehead connected with her knees; she felt like a toddler having a tantrum.
<o></o>
“You’ll never understand.” She heatedly whispered. “I’m helping him and the others!”

[Spectre]

"Oh yeah..." Spectre glared. "You're helping them out a whole lot, making them stupefied and compliant little test subjects. Super job." She gave Maleigha an overly sarcastic thumbs-up.

The anger was good, it was making her mind leak thoughts about the little boy in question. The one they were looking for. There was more though, there was also a bunch of guilty thoughts.. Painful memories and sadness. Why should Maleigha care? Spectre had to keep digging at her to get to the truth. Her mind was all over the place thinking of other mutants.. not just Blake. It was possible that she was sympathetic and really did try in her own way to help them, so Spectre would refrain from clocking her over the head.. for now.

"Apparently I know more than you think, hmmm? Or we wouldn't be here right now. Focus, Miss Scott. Blake Messin. Is he even still alive?"

[Mirrora]

Her narrowed eyes softened behind her knees; the anger in her remained constant but her shaking had stopped.

"Yes, he's alive." She said. "I was with him my whole shift today. All the way up until he fell asleep...he seemed a bit...better today."

She had grown distant as she spoke, losing herself in the warm memories of spending time with the boy. Truth was, Maleigha didn't know why she was telling these two this, they didn't have to right to know, but the words kept leaking from her mouth. She had gotten so attached to the boy...it was hard not to talk about him.

One could say, she thought of him as a younger brother...

She buried her hands in her now, unruly long hair. This was so hard.

"He will live as long as the doctors don't change his medication or alter his dosage amount."

[Spectre]

"He'll live.." Spectre emphasized.. ".. because we're going to get him the Hell out of there and take him somewhere safe."

She began pacing in front of Miss Scott. Spectre pacing was not a good sign, it's what she did right before she snapped into a fit of rage. At least the kid was still alive. She hated that they were only targeting one child this visit and not just busting them all out, but it was just the two of them against Jericho and Spectre had been through this dance before.. It was not as easy as it seemed, getting out of there..

She swung her bright green gaze to Mute. 'What do you make of her pity party? Genuine? Or too little too late?'

[Mute]

I don't care for her pity and I doubt the guinea pigs at the Jericho Centre could give a damn for it either, he replied with feelings strongly resonant in his thoughts. He glanced at their prisoner then continued: It's nothing but words to me, and words without actions mean absolutely nothing.

The body language of his comrade spoke volumes to him and he felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of a violent outlet for he was also aching to exact some mutant justice on this torturer's apprentice. His last thought begged the question: Do we really need her?

[Mirrora]

There were no words for her for now; it was obvious that these two didn't want to hear or didn't care what she had to say on her behalf.

Maleigha watched the two as they said nothing...it was difficult to understand, but there had to be more going on here than she first realized. Their intense gazes implied that more that just sight was being exchanged; all she could do was watch from the couch.

Mirrora had no where to go, yet, had all the time in the world now. It was like watching a slight show, but there was nothing nice or humerous about it.

Only angst on what was to come.

[Spectre]

'It will be far easier with her..'

"Alright Miss Scott, so tell us about a normal day in the life of little Blake. Details are of the importance - I want to know his schedule."

Spectre knew the inside of the Jericho Center quite well now, after her last visit. Direction wasn't her concern so much as timing and if they did happent o run into any more problems, like last time she and Mute would be ready to tear the whole building down.. The inhabitants would be no worse off..

[Mirrora]

Maleigha rubbed her temple in annoyance.

"His schedule changes every other day." She sighed. "Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, breakfast is first at 8, about an hour after that is his first treatment. I spend time with him until lunch, roughly 11:30 and then I trade off with another employee so I can do lab work for the doctors. At exactly at 2:30, I come back and give him his second treatment."

She paused.

"He gets tired after that and so he takes a nap. For how long? It all depends, it ranges from 20 minutes to an hour and a half. After he is done resting, a few doctors come and urge him to demonstrate his mutations.”
<o></o>
Mirrora was using light wording for her explanations; the correct term instead of demonstrate would be something short of torturing them out of him. Every day was a new mechanism or a different utensil to coax Blake into a fit of great power. She was disgusted on the inside and yet every time she had to sit there and watch what Doctor Cahill and his fellow cronies did to the young mutant.
<o></o>
“Regardless on how long he rests, I observe and report my findings on his abilities. His dinner is dropped off at 6:30 and after that he has a monitored ‘free’ time. The lights in his room are promptly shut off at 9 o'clock.”
<o></o>
The look in her eyes reflected everything hate felt in the world; it still baffled her how people could do such things to other people….just for being slightly different.
<o></o>
“Is there anything else you want to know, miss?” She managed to growl out.

[Spectre]

I may let you hit her after all..

Specter sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs at the ankle. "Alright.. that's a good start. Next topic - security and your clearance. I want no mistakes, nothing left out."

She looked over to Mute. What do you think?... Whenever the kid goes down for his nap? Before they start prodding him with electrodes and barbed wire, and whatever else they do in that slaughter house...

[Mute]

I don't know, his concern was conveyed in his thoughts, its a risky time window: shift changes, visiting hours, deliveries and daylight. It will be busy and anything amiss won't go unnoticed very long. Plus the kid will be tired so moving him will be a problem. Maybe it's the medicine - if she didn't give him that second dose...

His thoughts trailed off because their prisoner had started talking and he didn't want to miss any details concerning the levels of security they were going to face.

[Mirrora]

“I work there but I don’t know everything.” She said, distantly. “Imagine, if you can, the security of the White House and then multiply that by nearly one hundred.”
<o></o>
Mirrora moved, her legs curling up underneath her.
<o></o>
“<st1:city w:st="on"><st1>Jericho</st1> </st1:city>has everything from cameras to 24/7 guards; however, these guards aren’t your typical boy scouts. I suppose you could say that they are trained as a mini militia, many of their specialties ranging from martial arts to skilled marksman. They aren’t people to mess around with, they take their job seriously.”
<o></o>
The fact of the matter was that the Jericho Guard was not an amateur fighting force. They had a purpose and their minds were programmed to uphold that purpose.
<o></o>
“Cameras…they’re everywhere. On every floor, in every hall, in every room…with the exception of the ‘examination and sudation’ rooms, they’re outside as well as inside. Those cameras are programmed to move in a planned pattern so that every which way is always covered, just to keep out the ‘curious’ ones. Elevators require finger print identification, stairwells a number code that changes every five minutes, and at nearly every, cross section between halls there is a monitor check where only employees may enter by swiping our cards…”
<o></o>
Maleigha Scott pulled her purse in front of her and removed a simple identification card with her picture and general information on it; name, eye color, weight, height, age, and employee status. She threw the card onto the night table close to Spectre. “This card is misleading; there is a security chip inside that I use to gain access to restricted areas.”
<o></o>
“As for the labs and holding chambers for the mutants, eye scans are required as well as a finger print clarification. All information of the employees is kept within a super database, for the purpose of keeping those who are not welcome out of the Center.”
<o></o>
“To gain access to the building, you need an employee card. Without that…” She pointed at her card. “It is impossible to get anywhere.”
<o></o>
“The <st1><st1>Jericho</st1> <st1>Center</st1></st1>…is likely to be the most secure place in the world. Getting around isn’t easy and in the history of the Center, there has only been a few break-in’s. The majority of which were ended with undeniable death.”
<o></o>
She looked up from the floor. “Even with that said, I’m sure there are more security trails that I don’t know about.”