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Parasite is the third part of The Underground series

Chapter 23 of 29

So Very Far Away

It was a cold, empty feeling when you watch your life's work for years shatter around you.

As Trilby's paws were painfully secured, wrists abused by the metallic cuffs, he couldn't help but feel utterly helpless as he watched Alias disappear from view, cursing profanities at Isis. At least this time his arms weren't contorted behind his back. Now, he was looking straight into the dead eyes of his wife; a full circle from where he began. No, he wasn't looking into Isis's eyes. Isis was a thing, an infection that had taken control of Leigh. The person before him was still his wife, regardless of what society's law said. Thinking, Trilby realized it had been years since he had been this close to her. It still was hard to accept that the woman he recognized as Leigh Trilby, his wife for years, was only a ghostly reflection of what once was.

"Did you not think I had prepared for your intrusion, Agent Trilby?" Isis stated calmly, as she rode next to him in a sedan, driving toward the pier. "You couldn't stop me taking your wife's body, you couldn't stop the attack on St. Rita's Academe, what made you think you'd stop me now?"

Trilby didn't say a word. He wasn't going to humor it. He wouldn't give it anything closely resembling satisfaction.

"This is all a result of your own doing, you realize this?" Isis continued, causing Trilby to look over. Acidic rage simmered under his skin, growing hotter each second. "I never wanted to harm Leigh Trilby." It explained.

"Don't say her name..." Trilby growled darkly, a flash of rage consuming him momentarily.

"I didn't. I never had the desire for her to become such a key figure. I wanted you Agent Trilby, I wanted your body." Isis shook Leigh's head. "It was your refusal, your own actions that led to what happened. Believe me..." Her velvety voice concluded. "I had no desire to become entombed in this body. Everything that happened to Leigh has been by your paw."

Her voice was Leigh's, it was like Leigh was speaking to him from beyond, telling him these things. Isis knew this, so she worked it to its advantage, seeing how visibly upset he was becoming.

"Shut up..." Trilby seethed quietly. "Just shut up, you fucking machine..." He could feel his muscles burn with anger and frustration. Why? What had he done to anger the gods of the natural world so much to have brought this kind of karma upon himself? So fucking close to having what he'd been trying so hard to recover, only to have it ripped away from him. Mind racing, helplessness like a cold water pouring down his neck, and the realization that all the meticulous planning, the buildup of everything going so right, was all gone.

Now it was over...

There was nothing more left to do than accept whatever else fate had in store for him. Honestly, there wasn't anything more shameful or degrading in Trilby's mind that could be done to him. With his wife's face on every terrorist watch list, to most she was simply "Leigh Trilby", international terrorist and con artist for those who weren't high enough on the totem pole to know about the Isis Project. Had Isis placed a pistol to his forehead, he would have gladly wished her to pull the trigger. So, instead he remained silent. Trilby had been so close to getting Leigh back... so close, and yet so far away.

Slowly the car pulled to a stop. Looking out his window, he noticed the large freighter waiting to be loaded, lights gleaming off it's steel structure like a city all in itself.

"You understand, I can't allow you to go free afterward." Isis explained. "I truly hope you understand that this, all of it, was nothing personal." She shrugged. "It's just how things worked out."

Trilby shook his head. "Go to Hell..."

Isis made no comment after this. She simply opened the door, sliding out. It wasn't long before Trilby found himself being pulled from the car, out into the freezing Arcadian air. What a grave; a smelly, freezing harbor. Somehow it seemed fitting in light of everything.

Before him stood a red salamander, broad in his shoulders. Feeling the bile of rage coarse through his veins, Trilby slowly shut his eyes as his wife's body rubbed up against this man, watching Isis use Leigh's paws to explore this man's body. If there was a term to describe this lizard, it would be greasy. There was something unsettling about his look, from his slicked back hair, to his foreign tight fitting clothing. His age showed as his hair was thinning, even though his slicked back hair tried desperately to cover this.

"Mr. Mihailov" Isis spoke through Leigh's voice. "Ivan..." She called in her velvety tone. "Things aren't going well, and I'm afraid we'll have to move along our meeting."

"What a shame." Mihailov replied, voice thick in an accent. "I assume that leaves no time for us, yes?"

Trilby remained silent, studying Mihailov closely. It's not everyday you came face-to-face with one of the world's greatest warlords. He watched Mihailov's scaly hands trace over his wife's arms, stroking against its flawless fur. Leigh's flawless fur.

Mihailov shot a glance over at Trilby. "Who is he?"

"Ivan Mihailov, allow me to introduce Special Agent James Trilby of the Organized Crime Bureau." Isis introduced them. "You see, I recently found out that some associates of mine were actually informing on me to Agent Trilby here." It laughed, causing more hatred to boil in Trilby's mind. "Fortunately, because Agent Trilby has been forced into retirement, no one at the OCB should know what's going on. All the same, I don't know that for sure. I want the payment, and you may have your bomb."

"And him?" Mihailov pointed to Trilby.

Isis shrugged. "We'll keep him until the weapon is moved..." Isis paused and turned away from Trilby. "Then you may kill him."

Trilby was forced to wait in the cold, without the protection of anything thicker than his suit coat. Shivering, he watched as Mihailov and Isis spoke on their phones, setting up the transaction. He looked up, studying the large crane as a helicopter flew by in a lazy circle. Neither Isis nor Mihailov looked concerned, so Trilby guessed it was one of theirs.

"Check with your people." Mihailov told Isis. "Funds should be transfered." His accented voice informed.

Trilby's eye went from the salamander to Isis, who held a phone to her ear, listening with intent. Several intense seconds passed, as Isis was fixed in her position with Mihailov, waiting her confirmation.

"It appears your funds are in order." Isis finally said, shutting her phone. "Naturally."

"So..." Mihailov said in a low tone. "I don't suppose we will see each other again, no?" He asked, voice sounding seductive.

Trilby watched as Isis shook Leigh's head sweetly. "You never can be sure..."

With a sly chuckle, Mihailov, turned and nodded up at the crane operator, doing a little motion with his paw for him to get to work.

Slowly the crane swung lazily over to the truck, as a few of Isis's guards made the attachments. Trilby felt slightly nauseated as he watched the bomb's container slowly ascend, a product of his own good intentions and loyalty to his wife.

"You two." Isis boomed over the loud crane, looking at two of her guards. "Please take Agent Trilby down to the water's edge and execute him." It requested as simply as one would order a food item on a menu.

Paws locking around his arms above his elbows, Trilby was hauled away. At this point he didn't put up much of a fight any longer. Being shoved along, his feet stopped where the wharf ended and the sea began. There was only a small slot between the wharf and the freighter for his body to fall. He stopped and took in a deep breath, smelling the pollution and industry in the air.

"Alright..." Trilby said aloud, pointing to his breast pocket, showing he was reaching for something. He moved slow as the two guards watched him with pistols to his head; ready in case Trilby pulled a gun. Instead, the one-eyed cat pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Everyone gets a last smoke in before facing the flying lead. As Trilby looked down, he chuckled. There was only one left in his pack. "Fitting..." He mumbled, raising the pack to his lips, pulling the last one out before crumpling the pack in his paw, tossing it away. "Either you mugs got a light?" He asked through distorted speech, pinning the cigarette between his lips.

Whether they did or didn't, Trilby never got to know the answer. Hissing through the air like tiny missiles, both of the guards head's exploded in a red mist. Their bodies dropped like rocks almost at the same time as the two slugs passed through them as if they were made of paper. The cigarette fell from Trilby's lips as he jumped backward in shock, almost falling off the pier. Before he even had time to think, dark SUV's carrying people in combat gear on the sides swooped in from every angle; blue and red lights strobing. He quickly recognized this as an OCB tactic, and sure enough, Trilby heard someone on the bullhorn clearly identifying themselves.

That's when the shooting began.

Sparks, and flashes of light illuminated the pier as both sides engaged the other. How or why the OCB showed up wasn't really a concern of Trilby's. The fact was that they were hear now. Trilby had one last chance.

However, he was still very much hindered. In all the commotion, Trilby hadn't seen who had the keys to his cuffs. Paws still cuffed painfully tight in front of him, Trilby moved swiftly, rushing back over to the black sedan he knew Isis was taking shelter behind.

OCB fire teams were spread out all over the wharf, taking fire from both Isis's guards, and Mihailov's men aboard the freighter. Running, Trilby heard the booming explosion of a sniper rifle, and off to his right, a TAC agent's head exploded as the slug found a home. Bits of concrete blew up around him, stinging his legs as shots were taken at him from all sides. The agent charged on, pushing past everyone, watching as blood sprayed around him, any second he was ready to feel the burning sting of a slug ripping through his body.

But none ever came.

A cry of war left Trilby's lips as his one eye burned with vengeance. Isis only had time to look up. It had been bunkered down behind her car when the bullets started flying. For the first time as Trilby jumped out at her, he saw the look of fear on her face.

Crashing into her, Trilby wrestled Isis to the ground, cuffed paws clamping down around her neck. Isis may know business and financial matters to a T, but Trilby had his agency training. His wife's cream colored paws slapped desperately at his face, bearing her claws as the two collided. Being twice her size and much stronger, Trilby easily had the advantage. As Isis made a desperate attempt to crawl away from Trilby, he caught Leigh's ankle, dragging her back to him. Quickly, he flipped her over, and his black and white paws snapped around her throat. Squeezing, his paws collapsed around the veins in her neck, cutting off the circulation. Isis squirmed and thrashed trying to break away, paws desperately smacking at Trilby's body as the darkness of unconsciousness embraced her. Slowly, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, starting to black out. There truly were drawbacks to living in the flesh.

Blind in one eye, he never saw him coming from the side. A white-hot burning exploded through his mind as the sharpened tip of a large combat knife came crashing down through the middle of his right shoulder. Howling in pain, Trilby fell to the side, rolling over to find a livid Mihailov looking down at him wielding a sharp blade that dripped drops of his dark blood.

"I see you in Hell!" He snarled in broken english, thick in his native accent. Knee crashing onto Trilby's chest painfully pinning him to the ground, Mihailov raised the knife above his head. Trilby watched as Mihailov brought it down quickly, aiming at his unprotected throat. His arms shot up, meeting Mihailov's, stopping the blade less than a foot from his neck. His shoulder burned with an acidic quality as it bled freely. As he felt Mihailov's crushing weight bear down upon him; sharp knife inching closer as his arms grew weaker, pain began to cloud his vision as Trilby felt his body going lax...

From out of nowhere, a shadow, a moving dark blur, crashed into Mihailov, spearing him to the ground. There came a crack as their bones collided, and even though the fox was smaller by comparison, he used that to his advantage. Mihailov was larger and tried to use his weight to throw the fox around. Alias quickly ducked and dodged about, keeping on his toes, not even attempting an attack.

Mihailov then lunged at the fox, knife coming around and slicing his thigh. Alias let out a low cry of pain as his paw snapped around Mihailov's wrist. Nimbly, Alias twisted the salamander's wrist around unnaturally behind his back, forearm at an upward angle. Trilby watched as Alias pushed a little harder. There was a soft pop, followed by a loud snap, then an even louder cry from Mihailov as his wrist shattered. Paw instinctively dropping the knife, Alias took control of the battle, grabbing the blade. Pulling Mihailov into a headlock, he brought swift justice down as the knife sunk deep into the middle of the foreigner's soft stomach. He cried out, cursing in his native tongue as the blood spilled from his stuck belly, before going silent altogether.

Pushing the body away, Alias quickly slid next to Trilby. "You're a lucky son of a bitch!" He shouted over the sound of automatic assault rifles and explosions going off.

"The hell I am!" Trilby barked back. "Get me out of these!"

Pulling him to a sitting position, Alias moved in front of Trilby, keeping down and covered between the sedan and the row of containers behind them. Metallic plinks and pings sounded around them as bullets passed between the waring factions; Alias and Trilby being directly in the middle. Moving quickly Alias worked on Trilby's cuffs.

"What is that? A staple?" The feline asked, looking down at the thin metal pick Alias was using.

Alias shrugged hurriedly. "It works doesn't it?' He asked as one cuff suddenly released, relief flowing through Trilby's wrists.

"When'd you learn that one?" Trilby asked, as Alias worked to free his other paw.

"About twenty minutes ago!"

Finally the other cuff fell free and the handcuffs were useless. Alias quickly pulled a pistol from his belt, offering it to Trilby. Pressing against the car, Alias peeked out over the hood. Bursting from behind cover, Alias shouldered his M4, letting short burst of lead escape the barrel. Trilby provided some backup, suppressing anyone trying to take a shot at Alias.

OCB was moving in from both the east and west, boxing Mihailov's men and what few remained of Isis's guards. As TAC operatives moved forward behind clear riot shields, supported by fire-teams slowly following in formation behind them, a glowing feeling entered Trilby's core. They were doing it! Alias continued to let off bursts of gunfire from the safety of Isis's sedan; the number of terrorists was dropping steadily. From the deck of the freighter, one of Mihailov's men's chest exploded with a crimson burst. Falling head over heals screaming the whole way down, his body smacked against the cement wharf. Looking down, he realized he also had Isis secured.

"Call it in!" Trilby commanded, grabbing Alias by the collar, pulling him closer so he could hear. "Let them know Isis is secured!"

"Priority message for Archangel Six Actual. Acknowledge?" Alias shouted, pressing against his ear, back leaned up against the car as bullets and shattered glass rained down on them. "Isis is secure, repeat, Isis is secure! The rest are all yours!"

Looking out at the madness, Trilby wasn't paying attention. Feeling movement around his feet, he looked down, and found a semi-conscious Isis reaching for something. His eye followed Leigh's outstretched arm, under the influence of Isis to a small black object; her PDA.

Jumping into action, Trilby snatched the small computer away, only to have his heart stop as he read the screen. "Jesus Christ!" Trilby cried out in alarm as his eyes scanned the bright screen. "Alias, we've got a problem!" In anger and wanting to put her down right this time, Trilby's fist met the front of Leigh's forehead, knocking Isis into unconsciousness. If Leigh remembered any of this, she'd forgive that one.

Isis flopped over, out cold and Alias grabbed the phone. "Fuck!" He cried out in anger, looking pissed. "Message for Six Actual; Clark, Isis just armed the damn bomb remotely!" Alias yelled, holding his earpiece in. "We might have minutes, we might have seconds, but that bomb's going off very soon!"