Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Before They Were Fabulous
THREE DAYS LATER
“How long have you worked for BLI?”
“Since its inception, sir,” the man replied with a quiet yet steady voice.
“Hmm.”
Korse began to pace, at first just the length of his desk, but as he was ready with his next question, he walked slowly behind the man. As tall as Korse was, this man was taller still; at six foot three, with broad shoulders, he seemed a gentle giant.
“You come highly recommended,” Korse began, “but who do you serve?”
“I... I don’t understand the question, sir,” the man replied, turning his head as Korse appeared now at his left side.
“You work for BLI,” Korse stated. “But, if I offer you this position, who do you serve?”
The man frowned; he could already see it was some sort of trick question but he needed more information.
“I assume we both serve BLI, sir.” He offered with a slight tilt of his head. “Or have I misunderstood?”
Korse smiled; he was careful. He liked that.
“If there was ever a conflict of interest between my orders and those of BLI. What then?”
“Given your reputation and obvious commitment to BLI, if that were to happen, sir, I could only assume that BLI couldn’t be in possession of all the relevant information. If I were to follow someone else’s orders, whatever you were planning could go wrong. Something like that could damage you in their eyes and I would not want to be the cause of that.”
“So, I want specifics, who do you serve?” Korse returned to his desk and leaned across it once more.
“You, sir, in all respects.”
“Good,” Korse nodded. “What dosage of Kanslokal do you take.
“The job specified recommended dose, sir,” the man appeared surprised to be asked. “Twenty milligrams.”
“You are very loyal, aren’t you, Jakob?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The last person in this role disappointed me. She had her own agenda and had neither my, nor BLI’s best interests at heart. You will not disappoint me.”
The words were more of an order than a statement or question, but Jakob responded with a firm nod.
“No, sir. I will do whatever you need me to do.”
“Good,” Korse took a seat and gestured for Jakob to do the same. “You will be the new personal assistant to the Way brothers, but more than that, you are to be my eyes and ears in their apartment. You will report to me every day on what is done and said by the brothers, security and any of their visitors or guests. I am particularly interested in any subversive activity.”
“Subversive, sir?” Jakob appeared surprised by the suggestion.
“Yes, Jakob, subversive. It is my job, is it not, to find rebels and their sympathisers.”
“Yes, sir... but... the Way brothers?”
“They are young,” he waved a hand casually in the air, “impressionable. I don’t want to hear of them being corrupted or subjected to the wrong sort of person. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Rebels are cunning and even the best amongst us could be tricked by them if caught off guard.”
“Exactly,” Korse offered a thin smile. “And I want you to make sure Gerard takes this.”
Reaching into a desk draw, Korse withdrew a bottle of white powder and placed it on the desk before pushing it towards Jakob.
“Can I ask what it is, sir?”
Korse thought for a moment before nodding; he liked this man, he seemed very careful.
“It’s Kanslokal, in powdered form. I don’t want him to be aware that he’s taking it.”
Jakob frowned as he reached for the bottle, examining it closely before looking up at Korse once more. The exterminator appeared interested by the man’s reaction.
“Yes, Jakob?” he asked, bringing his fingers together into a peak. “I can see you have a question.”
Jakob pondered his position. He had already expressed that he was willing to serve Korse and was not about to begin his job with a career and possibly life-ending question. Whatever Korse’s reason for giving the boy BLI’s patented ‘happy pills’ at such a young age and without his knowledge, it was going to happen anyway, with or without his help. There would be nothing for him to gain in enquiring why, but possibly everything to lose.
“What dosage, sir?” He asked, placing the bottle back down on the desk.
“Good question,” Korse smiled slyly. “Dissolve ten milligrams in water and add it to his coffee or any other drinks through the day. It’s tasteless, so he won’t notice the difference. Make sure Mikey does not have any. That is very important, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Ten milligrams daily, Gerard only, without his knowledge, at all costs.”
Korse nodded; sometimes he disliked absolute compliance, but Jakob’s was measured and deliberate not blind and unthinking. He would be infinitely better than Petra had been.
*
Finding a way into the building’s basement had been surprisingly difficult, despite now being aware of its presence, but Edward was nothing if not persistent. He eventually opted to disable the private elevator to the apartment and set up a block and tackle rope and pulley system to allow himself to be lowered down.
With three of his team, two at the elevator and one accompanying him, they edged their way down the shaft. Reaching the bottom, he was unsurprised to see a set of doors. Taking a crowbar, the pair forced them open and headed inside, switching on flashlights as they went.
It soon became apparent that the basement was an entire floor set up like many of the offices on the lower floors above. Although many of Battery City’s wealthier citizens lived in the building, several floors were also occupied by several of BLI’s administration and hospitality departments.
Quickly finding a bank of light switches that illuminated the whole of the basement, Edward and his colleague began to explore the floor. Opening the first door they came across, it seemed to simply be an office equipped with ordinary furniture that anyone might expect to see. However, Edward frowned deeply as he closed the door; why was it even there? The furniture appeared new but not covered in a thick layer of dust, as would be expected if it had simply lain there since the building opened four years earlier.
Exploring further, Edward grew increasingly concerned as they found rooms that resembled BLI cells and interrogation rooms.
“This is bizarre, Kent,” he addressed his colleague. “It’s set up like a miniature S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit.”
“And it all looks...” Kent paused. “New isn’t the right word. It looks like it’s in use.”
“I don’t want word of this getting out,” Edward paused before opening the final door. “Nothing is to be said or reported on, not even to the rest of the team. I need to find out what’s...”
Edward gasped as he opened the final door at the far end of the basement. Beyond the door lay a mock up of an old cellar, grim and poorly lit with brickwork walls. What caught his attention particularly was a camera tripod lying on its side on the floor. Attached to one wall, only. A few feet off the floor were lengths of chain, both had been looped and secured with a padlock apparently to shorten them. A second shorter section dangled, each with an open padlock hanging from the final link. Near the corner, lay a balled up section of grey tape. Edward chewed his lower lip, he felt sick to his stomach; it was obvious from the layout and the remaining paraphernalia that this was were Gerard had been held during his now obviously fake abduction.
“What is it, sir?”
“Do I have your word that this won’t be discussed?”
“Even with the team, sir?” Kent raised an eyebrow.
“I would like you to forget everything you’ve seen,” Edward pressed.
“I don’t even know what I have seen!” Kent waved his arms out to the side, confused by Edward’s concern.
“Kent, trust me.”
“I take it we weren’t meant to see this.” Kent rolled his eyes.
“No, we most definitely were not meant to see this.” Edward replied rolling his eyes.
Edward knew he was in a difficult situation. If Korse had some way of knowing they had been there and were to ask him about it, would he lie? That could be even more dangerous. The better option was surely to say that he understood the importance and secrecy of what he had seen.
“I think these are emergency, secret offices for BLI in the event of an attack on their headquarters,” Edward lied, offering a plausible story for Kent and any BLI officials listening in. “We don’t want anyone to be aware of this, it would be a serious security risk,” he added
“Not a word,” Kent nodded, satisfied with the explanation. “We found nothing.”
“Good,” Edward grimaced with concern. “Let’s get out of here.”
Returning via the elevator shaft, both men were dismissive of the basement to their waiting colleagues, suggesting it had possibly been intended for storage and simply forgotten about. Edward hoped that if the basement was equipped with hidden cameras and microphones, that the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit and particularly Madam Director Miharu and Chief Exterminator Vitkovski would accept his statements as the truth. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, if even they were aware of it.
*
Mikey placed the last of the food down on the rug and flopped down next to it. Around him were green, leafy trees, birds singing, even the gentle bubbling of a stream; he could almost believe he was truly outside relaxing in a park. Such everyday luxuries were not available to the Way brothers, who always had to consider the possibility of attack. The dangers had recently been terrifyingly and graphically brought home to them with Gerard being abducted from their home and held by rebels making political demands. Thankfully, he had been rescued, but not unharmed and Mikey and Frankie had arranged a picnic to celebrate and to try to raise his spirits. They both could see that he had suffered at the rebels’ hands and it had to have been a terrifying experience for him, but somehow, Gerard’s distant and morose behaviour since returning home seemed to point to something more. Something, it seemed, had disturbed him deeply, but he refused to discuss it.
The only options open to the two boys were to offer distractions. If they couldn’t go outside, they would bring the outside in. All the walls had bright and sunny landscape scenes projected onto them and several recordings playing at once gave the impression of being in a large park. Mikey had even managed to include the occasional bark of a puppy or two, knowing it would make Frankie happy. Handing a glass of lemonade to Gerard, Mikey beamed to see his brother offer him what seemed to be a genuine smile for the first time since he returned home three days earlier.
The younger boys had really gone out of their way to create the illusion of a summer picnic in the park and Gerard even began to find himself unexpectedly relaxing. He genuinely hadn’t felt as if he would ever be able to relax again - especially in the home he had been taken from. Suddenly, all the security in the world couldn’t make it safe enough. It wasn’t even just his safety he was concerned about. He took a deep breath as he felt himself beginning to tense at the thought of Mikey’s safety being compromised, and even Frankie’s. He allowed the breath out in a slow deep exhalation; they had made such an effort to cheer him up, he wasn’t going to disappoint them.
“So, whose idea was the carpet picnic?” Gerard asked, raising his glass to toast his brother and friend.
“Mikey’s,” Frankie grinned.
“Well, both of us really,” Mikey added, searching for a sign of whether he liked it or not.
“Who could ask for a better brother and best friend?” He sighed, smiling gratefully at them. “What would I do without you?”
“Well, thankfully, you never have to find out,” Frankie replied cheerfully, helping himself to some pasta salad, mixed with chopped bell peppers and red onion and a dash of truffle oil. “You don’t get rid of me easily,” he grinned. “Well, not when the food’s this good,” he winked.
“Good!” Gerard replied, his smile broadening. “I never want to lose either of you,” he added with the slightest hint of melancholy creeping in.
“Come on,” Mikey encouraged. “Why don’t we have the best of both worlds and have a monster movie marathon with our picnic?”
Gerard smiled; Mikey suspected it was forced, but it was early days yet. Only three days had passed since his rescue and Gerard was still in a lot of pain and discomfort. Mikey wanted to know what was troubling him, he wanted to help, but didn’t want to push him too hard. Gerard was very protective of his younger brother, almost smotheringly so, but this time, Mikey wanted to protect him. The likelihood of being allowed to seemed slim, but he was determined to reach him somehow. Maybe Frankie could find out? They were very close, possibly even more so since he had returned. If anyone was going to get through to him, it would be Frankie.
*
Flex gently manipulated Jet’s wrist, feeling the joints and assessing the progress of the healing. Jet grimaced slightly as Flex pushed his hand up and backwards.
“That still hurts?” He asked, looking up with concern.
“Yeah,” Jet nodded. “A little, but it’s getting better.”
“Good,” Flex smiled. “I’m not surprised, to be honest. It’s actually doing really well. Keep up the exercises and I have a couple of new ones for you.”
“How long do I have to keep doing them?” Jet asked.
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to do it even when it’s healed. It’ll keep the mobility and strength up.”
Jet pouted, a grumpy expression creeping across his face.
“It’s going to be weak if I don’t?” he asked, lowering his eyes and sighing.
“You’ve damaged a tendon, Jet,” Flex shrugged. “They take a long time to heal. But, you know, you’re young, it’ll heal well...”
Jet looked up again, grinning at the words.
“If you look after it.”
“They’re boring,” Jet complained.
“Well, don’t you want to have a strong enough hand to play guitar?” Flex beamed a broad smile at him. “I found you one, you know?”
“You did?” Jet gasped, elated by the news.
“Yeah,” Flex raised a warning finger. “You get it when your wrist is strong enough.”
“Show me the new exercises!” Jet cried excitedly. “It’ll be fine in no time, you’ll see!”
“How long have you worked for BLI?”
“Since its inception, sir,” the man replied with a quiet yet steady voice.
“Hmm.”
Korse began to pace, at first just the length of his desk, but as he was ready with his next question, he walked slowly behind the man. As tall as Korse was, this man was taller still; at six foot three, with broad shoulders, he seemed a gentle giant.
“You come highly recommended,” Korse began, “but who do you serve?”
“I... I don’t understand the question, sir,” the man replied, turning his head as Korse appeared now at his left side.
“You work for BLI,” Korse stated. “But, if I offer you this position, who do you serve?”
The man frowned; he could already see it was some sort of trick question but he needed more information.
“I assume we both serve BLI, sir.” He offered with a slight tilt of his head. “Or have I misunderstood?”
Korse smiled; he was careful. He liked that.
“If there was ever a conflict of interest between my orders and those of BLI. What then?”
“Given your reputation and obvious commitment to BLI, if that were to happen, sir, I could only assume that BLI couldn’t be in possession of all the relevant information. If I were to follow someone else’s orders, whatever you were planning could go wrong. Something like that could damage you in their eyes and I would not want to be the cause of that.”
“So, I want specifics, who do you serve?” Korse returned to his desk and leaned across it once more.
“You, sir, in all respects.”
“Good,” Korse nodded. “What dosage of Kanslokal do you take.
“The job specified recommended dose, sir,” the man appeared surprised to be asked. “Twenty milligrams.”
“You are very loyal, aren’t you, Jakob?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The last person in this role disappointed me. She had her own agenda and had neither my, nor BLI’s best interests at heart. You will not disappoint me.”
The words were more of an order than a statement or question, but Jakob responded with a firm nod.
“No, sir. I will do whatever you need me to do.”
“Good,” Korse took a seat and gestured for Jakob to do the same. “You will be the new personal assistant to the Way brothers, but more than that, you are to be my eyes and ears in their apartment. You will report to me every day on what is done and said by the brothers, security and any of their visitors or guests. I am particularly interested in any subversive activity.”
“Subversive, sir?” Jakob appeared surprised by the suggestion.
“Yes, Jakob, subversive. It is my job, is it not, to find rebels and their sympathisers.”
“Yes, sir... but... the Way brothers?”
“They are young,” he waved a hand casually in the air, “impressionable. I don’t want to hear of them being corrupted or subjected to the wrong sort of person. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Rebels are cunning and even the best amongst us could be tricked by them if caught off guard.”
“Exactly,” Korse offered a thin smile. “And I want you to make sure Gerard takes this.”
Reaching into a desk draw, Korse withdrew a bottle of white powder and placed it on the desk before pushing it towards Jakob.
“Can I ask what it is, sir?”
Korse thought for a moment before nodding; he liked this man, he seemed very careful.
“It’s Kanslokal, in powdered form. I don’t want him to be aware that he’s taking it.”
Jakob frowned as he reached for the bottle, examining it closely before looking up at Korse once more. The exterminator appeared interested by the man’s reaction.
“Yes, Jakob?” he asked, bringing his fingers together into a peak. “I can see you have a question.”
Jakob pondered his position. He had already expressed that he was willing to serve Korse and was not about to begin his job with a career and possibly life-ending question. Whatever Korse’s reason for giving the boy BLI’s patented ‘happy pills’ at such a young age and without his knowledge, it was going to happen anyway, with or without his help. There would be nothing for him to gain in enquiring why, but possibly everything to lose.
“What dosage, sir?” He asked, placing the bottle back down on the desk.
“Good question,” Korse smiled slyly. “Dissolve ten milligrams in water and add it to his coffee or any other drinks through the day. It’s tasteless, so he won’t notice the difference. Make sure Mikey does not have any. That is very important, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Ten milligrams daily, Gerard only, without his knowledge, at all costs.”
Korse nodded; sometimes he disliked absolute compliance, but Jakob’s was measured and deliberate not blind and unthinking. He would be infinitely better than Petra had been.
*
Finding a way into the building’s basement had been surprisingly difficult, despite now being aware of its presence, but Edward was nothing if not persistent. He eventually opted to disable the private elevator to the apartment and set up a block and tackle rope and pulley system to allow himself to be lowered down.
With three of his team, two at the elevator and one accompanying him, they edged their way down the shaft. Reaching the bottom, he was unsurprised to see a set of doors. Taking a crowbar, the pair forced them open and headed inside, switching on flashlights as they went.
It soon became apparent that the basement was an entire floor set up like many of the offices on the lower floors above. Although many of Battery City’s wealthier citizens lived in the building, several floors were also occupied by several of BLI’s administration and hospitality departments.
Quickly finding a bank of light switches that illuminated the whole of the basement, Edward and his colleague began to explore the floor. Opening the first door they came across, it seemed to simply be an office equipped with ordinary furniture that anyone might expect to see. However, Edward frowned deeply as he closed the door; why was it even there? The furniture appeared new but not covered in a thick layer of dust, as would be expected if it had simply lain there since the building opened four years earlier.
Exploring further, Edward grew increasingly concerned as they found rooms that resembled BLI cells and interrogation rooms.
“This is bizarre, Kent,” he addressed his colleague. “It’s set up like a miniature S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit.”
“And it all looks...” Kent paused. “New isn’t the right word. It looks like it’s in use.”
“I don’t want word of this getting out,” Edward paused before opening the final door. “Nothing is to be said or reported on, not even to the rest of the team. I need to find out what’s...”
Edward gasped as he opened the final door at the far end of the basement. Beyond the door lay a mock up of an old cellar, grim and poorly lit with brickwork walls. What caught his attention particularly was a camera tripod lying on its side on the floor. Attached to one wall, only. A few feet off the floor were lengths of chain, both had been looped and secured with a padlock apparently to shorten them. A second shorter section dangled, each with an open padlock hanging from the final link. Near the corner, lay a balled up section of grey tape. Edward chewed his lower lip, he felt sick to his stomach; it was obvious from the layout and the remaining paraphernalia that this was were Gerard had been held during his now obviously fake abduction.
“What is it, sir?”
“Do I have your word that this won’t be discussed?”
“Even with the team, sir?” Kent raised an eyebrow.
“I would like you to forget everything you’ve seen,” Edward pressed.
“I don’t even know what I have seen!” Kent waved his arms out to the side, confused by Edward’s concern.
“Kent, trust me.”
“I take it we weren’t meant to see this.” Kent rolled his eyes.
“No, we most definitely were not meant to see this.” Edward replied rolling his eyes.
Edward knew he was in a difficult situation. If Korse had some way of knowing they had been there and were to ask him about it, would he lie? That could be even more dangerous. The better option was surely to say that he understood the importance and secrecy of what he had seen.
“I think these are emergency, secret offices for BLI in the event of an attack on their headquarters,” Edward lied, offering a plausible story for Kent and any BLI officials listening in. “We don’t want anyone to be aware of this, it would be a serious security risk,” he added
“Not a word,” Kent nodded, satisfied with the explanation. “We found nothing.”
“Good,” Edward grimaced with concern. “Let’s get out of here.”
Returning via the elevator shaft, both men were dismissive of the basement to their waiting colleagues, suggesting it had possibly been intended for storage and simply forgotten about. Edward hoped that if the basement was equipped with hidden cameras and microphones, that the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Unit and particularly Madam Director Miharu and Chief Exterminator Vitkovski would accept his statements as the truth. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, if even they were aware of it.
*
Mikey placed the last of the food down on the rug and flopped down next to it. Around him were green, leafy trees, birds singing, even the gentle bubbling of a stream; he could almost believe he was truly outside relaxing in a park. Such everyday luxuries were not available to the Way brothers, who always had to consider the possibility of attack. The dangers had recently been terrifyingly and graphically brought home to them with Gerard being abducted from their home and held by rebels making political demands. Thankfully, he had been rescued, but not unharmed and Mikey and Frankie had arranged a picnic to celebrate and to try to raise his spirits. They both could see that he had suffered at the rebels’ hands and it had to have been a terrifying experience for him, but somehow, Gerard’s distant and morose behaviour since returning home seemed to point to something more. Something, it seemed, had disturbed him deeply, but he refused to discuss it.
The only options open to the two boys were to offer distractions. If they couldn’t go outside, they would bring the outside in. All the walls had bright and sunny landscape scenes projected onto them and several recordings playing at once gave the impression of being in a large park. Mikey had even managed to include the occasional bark of a puppy or two, knowing it would make Frankie happy. Handing a glass of lemonade to Gerard, Mikey beamed to see his brother offer him what seemed to be a genuine smile for the first time since he returned home three days earlier.
The younger boys had really gone out of their way to create the illusion of a summer picnic in the park and Gerard even began to find himself unexpectedly relaxing. He genuinely hadn’t felt as if he would ever be able to relax again - especially in the home he had been taken from. Suddenly, all the security in the world couldn’t make it safe enough. It wasn’t even just his safety he was concerned about. He took a deep breath as he felt himself beginning to tense at the thought of Mikey’s safety being compromised, and even Frankie’s. He allowed the breath out in a slow deep exhalation; they had made such an effort to cheer him up, he wasn’t going to disappoint them.
“So, whose idea was the carpet picnic?” Gerard asked, raising his glass to toast his brother and friend.
“Mikey’s,” Frankie grinned.
“Well, both of us really,” Mikey added, searching for a sign of whether he liked it or not.
“Who could ask for a better brother and best friend?” He sighed, smiling gratefully at them. “What would I do without you?”
“Well, thankfully, you never have to find out,” Frankie replied cheerfully, helping himself to some pasta salad, mixed with chopped bell peppers and red onion and a dash of truffle oil. “You don’t get rid of me easily,” he grinned. “Well, not when the food’s this good,” he winked.
“Good!” Gerard replied, his smile broadening. “I never want to lose either of you,” he added with the slightest hint of melancholy creeping in.
“Come on,” Mikey encouraged. “Why don’t we have the best of both worlds and have a monster movie marathon with our picnic?”
Gerard smiled; Mikey suspected it was forced, but it was early days yet. Only three days had passed since his rescue and Gerard was still in a lot of pain and discomfort. Mikey wanted to know what was troubling him, he wanted to help, but didn’t want to push him too hard. Gerard was very protective of his younger brother, almost smotheringly so, but this time, Mikey wanted to protect him. The likelihood of being allowed to seemed slim, but he was determined to reach him somehow. Maybe Frankie could find out? They were very close, possibly even more so since he had returned. If anyone was going to get through to him, it would be Frankie.
*
Flex gently manipulated Jet’s wrist, feeling the joints and assessing the progress of the healing. Jet grimaced slightly as Flex pushed his hand up and backwards.
“That still hurts?” He asked, looking up with concern.
“Yeah,” Jet nodded. “A little, but it’s getting better.”
“Good,” Flex smiled. “I’m not surprised, to be honest. It’s actually doing really well. Keep up the exercises and I have a couple of new ones for you.”
“How long do I have to keep doing them?” Jet asked.
“Well, it doesn’t hurt to do it even when it’s healed. It’ll keep the mobility and strength up.”
Jet pouted, a grumpy expression creeping across his face.
“It’s going to be weak if I don’t?” he asked, lowering his eyes and sighing.
“You’ve damaged a tendon, Jet,” Flex shrugged. “They take a long time to heal. But, you know, you’re young, it’ll heal well...”
Jet looked up again, grinning at the words.
“If you look after it.”
“They’re boring,” Jet complained.
“Well, don’t you want to have a strong enough hand to play guitar?” Flex beamed a broad smile at him. “I found you one, you know?”
“You did?” Jet gasped, elated by the news.
“Yeah,” Flex raised a warning finger. “You get it when your wrist is strong enough.”
“Show me the new exercises!” Jet cried excitedly. “It’ll be fine in no time, you’ll see!”
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