Resent-date: Thu, 16 Oct 1997 15:01:32 -0500 (CDT) Date: Thu, 16 Oct 1997 12:53:52 -0700 (PDT) Resent-from: seaQuest-ff-request@escapenet.org From: Victoria Jones Subject: (sQ-ff) Serendipity 3/? Resent-sender: seaQuest-ff-request@escapenet.org To: seaquest-ff@escapenet.org Reply-to: seaQuest-ff@escapenet.org X-Originating-IP: [129.71.137.119] X-Mailing-List: archive/latest/234 X-Loop: seaQuest-ff@stgenesis.org All right we're still having format problems, so if you *want* to read this and can't, yell at Ellie! *G* (Lzbtvc@hotmail.com) With the end of this chapter, yet another character that isn't ours *sigh*. You expected less from me? *G*- Ellie I tried to stop her. Really. It didn't work.- Iain *Ellie whacks Iain with a large piece of trout* Many thanks still to Michelle V, our editor! You're cool Michelle!-Ellie and Iain ********************************************************************** "Through a fragile and a breaking wall I see you my friend And touch your face again Miracles will happen as we dream..." Seal, "Crazy" ********************************************************************** Further discussion was pre-empted by a gentle thud against the side of the launch; up in front Christy gave what could only be described as triumphant yell. "They've come they've come!" she screamed at the top of her lungs and made a mad dash for the back of the cabin. Bridger drew back onto his seat as not to intercept the whirling dervish that was Andrea Christy as she passed him by. MacNeill however had no qualms with tripping her up-literally. The man stuck his foot out in the aisle, sending Christy sprawling towards the floor. He easily caught her and stopped her fall. "Easy Drea " he chuckled, holding his impulsive partner in a perfect dip position. "Don't want to give the Macs the upper hand by appearing over enthusiastic." She glared up at him "Easy for you to say." With no help from her knight in shining armor she once again regained her feet and made her way towards the back of the launch albeit at a much slower and more dignified pace. His smile fading as to a frown MacNeill watched her go, saying almost to himself "She gets too eager and they're gonna bolt, or think there's some kind of UEO trickery involved and blow us to kingdom come." He turned back to Bridger, warm hazel eyes sweeping the older man in a silent appraisal "Do you want to meet them?" "Meet them?" Bridger echoed. For a moment he was confused. He thought MacNeill meant the Macs. MacNeill continued "the Serendipity survivors." . Before Bridger could answer Christy called down, in a voice colored with impatience "Are you coming or not?" "Yes of course" MacNeill called back. He began to walk away, then remembered what had said to Bridger "Who knows, kinship maybe?" He tossed the rhetorical question over his shoulder to Bridger. "These people have been Mac prisoners of war. The past ten years haven't really existed for them either." Point made. Bridger hurried after MacNeill, leaving Michael sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat. Standing, tapping her foot against the edge of the exit, Christy looked about ready to explode if she waited much longer. MacNeill had to laugh at the sight of her. The woman didn't much appreciate it. "About time,"she ground out. "They've already asked to come aboard twice." "Ummm" MacNeill grunted in reply. The three stood clear as the hatch blew open, emanating a small but persistent stream of water into the launch. "Damn! Make it fast Drea, make it fast." He snapped out at Bridger, who was admittedly standing around gaping, "Help us or go back with your grandson!" Nathan- not used to be being bossed around but understanding the necessity- sprang into action with Christy and MacNeill. Momentarily the threesome where helping drenched refugees into the launch, some of whom were crying, a few praying, and still others thanking them profusely. With each passenger that came aboard, Andrea Christy's face became more and more heartbreaking to behold. When the last one took a hand up and was brought into the launch, the look in her brown eyes was one of a person who would willingly lay down and die. That look caused a tingling feeling of deja-vu through Nathan's whole being. He'd seen just that look before; he still couldn't figure out where but he'd seen it before. He was sure he had never wanted to see it again. Apparently MacNeill saw it too. Breaking away from a crowd of survivors, he fought his way over to Christy. When he reached about two feet of her he abruptly stopped. Their eyes locked; they stood agaze for a good thirty seconds while the crowd around them- Bridger included-faded to silence. Then MacNeill crossed the space in less than that time, engulfing her in his arms, and she was crying brokenly on his shoulder. Their respite was brief. Behind the silent tableaux, the crowd reasserted its presence with a defining roar, surging forward towards the target of their anger. MacNeill and Christy and looked up, shock imprinted on their faces. Bridger followed their gazes and his own jaw about fell to the floor in shock. Standing at the head of the ladder, bleeding and barely conscious, was a Macronesian soldier. MacNeill's response was instantaneous; he whipped Christy behind him and drew out a mean looking pistol, training it on the Mac. "Please," the man whispered raggedly, limply holding up a forestalling hand "I mean you no harm. I...wish...to...defect..." "Yeah right" called out one of the faceless crowd and the buzzing once again rose to a crescendo. "Quiet!!" MacNeill yelled above the din; his request was granted almost instantly. Gun never wavering from its target, he questioned the Mac "How do we know you're for real?" "All I can give you is a name" Seeing the look of disbelief MacNeill, Christy, and Bridger traded he amended "not my own but that of a colleague of mine you might have known. William Carter." Christy stepped out from behind MacNeill, ignoring the look the larger man gave her. "Our contact. What have you done with him, and why isn't he here instead of you?" The Mac smiled thinly, ignoring Christy and addressing MacNeill instead."Perceptive isn't she. However there's no time for this. Not if you want to save the package from drowning." "The package?" Bridger echoed. The Mac now turned his attention on Nathan "Yes. Another gesture of the good faith on the part of myself and the late Carter." Christy drew her breath in at the late part of the sentence. "Did you honestly think my people would release everything concerning the Serendipity to you?" "Not really," MacNeill admitted. "All right," he raised his voice "Christy, Bridger, our...guest...and myself are going down into the other launch. The rest of you, towards the front. If anything should go wrong, call us immediately. Is that understood?" There were nods of agreement from the group. "Good." He turned back to the Mac. With a smirk on his lips he gave a mock half bow and a sweeping gesture towards the door "After you." The other man said nothing, and the group descended to the other launch in silence. As soon as they touched ground, Christy being the last one to do so, the Mac gestured towards a dim corner in the far reaches of the bay. "Over there." As they reached the "package" their curiosity only grew. It was, lightly put, huge- five feet wide and three feet high. Bridger idly wondered how on earth the Mac had managed to sneak *this* past Bourne. "My God" Christy voiced all their thoughts "What's in there?" "Hurry. Don't talk. Get it open." the Mac now seemed in a flurry of motion "I don't know how long they can survive in there. We couldn't risk many oxygen supplies." "They?" MacNeill and Bridger exclaimed simultaneously Christy, meanwhile, was oblivious, heeding the hint that her heart was shooting rapid-fire through her body, beating like a drum. Her adrenaline fed her suspicion, which drove her hands. The harsh packing cut her hands; crimson blood ran in rivets down the brown package but Christy didn't care. Seeing the state of his partner, MacNeill knew the only way he could even hope to stop her self-destructive behavior was to help her with her chosen task. He ripped into the box with all his might. Bridger soon followed suit. Mere moments later they had the box open. It seemed like all the air had been knocked right out of Bridger the moment the lid was lifted away. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even keep his eyes open. They shut involuntarily,stinging with hot, salty tears he wasn't willing to shed. Still he saw the little girl, all dark eyes in a face to old for the body it was attached to, and the battered face and the skeleton -like frame of the woman desperately clutching the girl to her . Andrea Christy was crying. She barely choked out, "Mom and Lilly." . In the same breath, Bridger whispered "Kristin." ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com ---------------------------------------- seaQuest-ff-request@stgenesis.org Subject: unsubscribe