The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 4)

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The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 4)

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Sun Apr 17, 2016 1:32 pm

NOTE: Some people may not remember the original series having a second floor to the Lawson house. I distinctly recall a few episodes where Jamie's room WAS upstairs. If anyone wants to tell me I got it wrong, their complaints will be ignroed as politely as possible---my series, my architectural decisions. :D
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Ten minutes later, the van glided to a stop on the opposite side of the street from Ted's house---further up the road, the Land Rover that Major Tom and Rae had left HQ in was halfway through someone's fence. “Don't mention it when we get inside,” Harris warned.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Vicki quietly replied.

The house looked relatively unchanged from the days since Vicki had last lived in it---apart from a few new terminal PCs built into the walls at strategic points around the living room area. It dawned on the gynoid that, for all the memories of her “walking appliance” days, she had even more memories of the Lawson house being her true home---a veritable fortress. Ted did call the place “Castle Lawson”, once upon a time, she recalled, almost grinning at the memory.

Just as quickly, she saw Ted himself---looking as if he hadn't slept since the fight with Oberon and Epsilon.

“Dad?!” Ignoring Harris' quizzical glance and Calliope's utterance of “Vicki, wait!”, the brunette gynoid rushed to her father's side. “I hate to say it, but---”

“I look like hell?” Ted chuckled. “That's what happens when you spend 24 hours without sleep, trying to come up with the necessary palpitations for the calculations of the ambulations.....” He stopped, realizing his verbal gaffes. “.....is it okay if I sleep on the floor?” he mumbled, nearly falling over where he stood---only for Vicki to take hold of his shoulders and guide him towards the couch. “Just....take it easy, Dad,” she whispered.

“......need to.....perimeter,” Ted muttered. “...seal off.....streets and back-ways....protect the......” Someone draped a blanket over him; Vicki looked up to see Alicia LeHane regarding Ted with an almost sad look. “He really didn't get any sleep,” the House agent informed her. “Drank six Red Bulls last night....”

“Were you the one assigned to watch him?” Vicki quietly asked.

“Three other House agents had that job. I was watching MuchMusic---oh, and you really need to update your taste in songs, Vicki. Classic stuff is great, and all, but---”

Harris' throat-clearing cut her off. “Meeting's about to start,” he stated. “We should probably.....” He noticed Ted napping on the couch. “The guy didn't sleep a wink last night,” the blonde gynoid explained. “Cut him some slack, will you?”

Anything Harris could've said in reply was cut off by something banging---beneath the floor.

“Rae's in the lab downstairs,” Alicia informed a somewhat-rattled Vicki---which only served to turn the gynoid's alarm into confusion. “Downstairs?! I didn't even know this house had a downstairs lab!”

“Well, it does. She's looking for.....honestly, I don't know why she's down there, but she is.”

After a few microseconds of considering a reply, Vicki settled for an eye-roll, half-bemused sigh and plopping down into the nearest recliner. “As long as she doesn't break anything down there....” She glanced at the now-snoring figure of Ted on the sofa; “Any chance we can hold off on this until he wakes up?” she quietly asked.

“Since Ted is the main speaker for the briefing....looks like we'll have to.” Harris nodded to someone on the other side of the living room. “DuBraul's not going to like the delay, obviously.”

The look he received from Vicki said more than any words could've.

“....and I can tell you don't really care,” Harris concluded with a sigh. “I'll tell him Ted needs to sleep off an all-nighter before we start---”

A shout from the front yard cut him off. “Please tell me that wasn't Major Tom,” Vick began---just as a flying, roughly spherical object shattered one of the windows and came to rest at her feet. Harris tripped over himself backing away from it, but Vicki, frowning as if the thing was merely a rock with a menacing note attached, just sighed and rested her foot on it. “I'll handle it---”

“VICKI, NO!”

Faster than anyone could spot, Alicia had charged towards the spherical object, scooping it up in one hand and throwing it through another window; a cloud of bluish smoke erupted from the thing, followed shortly after by one of the wall-mounted terminals and the microwave going haywire. “That was an EMP grenade,” Alicia hissed. “Short-range---if you'd have stepped on it---” She dove forward, practically attacking another grenade with a double-underhand smash that sent it through the window and straight into a black Hummer haphazardly parked on the curb outside.

“Someone's followed us here!” Harris drew a USP Compact from a side holster, aiming in the direction of the now-disabled Hummer. “Defensive positions---”

I'll check upstairs,” V.I.C.I replied, dashing off in a blur before Harris could ask a single question. The trip to Jamie's room, complete with the window Harriet had always parked herself outside to spy on Jamie (amazing how she never fell and broke her tailbone, the brunette gynoid mused). Just as she reached the closed (and locked) door to Jamie's room, the telltale sound of shattering glass sounded from inside. I knew Ted should've cut down that tree sooner.....

Given the use of EMP ordnance earlier, the idea of kicking in the door to take on the intruder (or intruders) was right out...still, the brunette gynoid had a few other ways to take out potential threats. One hand closed around the doorknob, with V.I.C.I cycling thermal energy through her hand and into the pull....

...just as the intruder grabbed and turned the doorknob.

A yelp, followed by the smack of a solid wood door against a human forehead, were the only signs of the brief “struggle” as the gynoid Field Agent emerged into the room. A figure in bulky black fatigues and body armour, with a ski mask covering his (or her---the ill fit of the clothes made it difficult to discern gender) face, lay on the floor, groaning. “One down,” V.I.C.I whispered, “and probably more to go----”

The words barely left her lips when another EMP grenade went sailing through the window.

A backhand strike knocked it outside. So much for a nice, peaceful return home.....
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Ten blocks away, a young man listened to the proceedings at the Lawson house with a somewhat annoyed frown crossing his lips. “You're sure that house is where this....Lawson girl lives?” he inquired, glancing at the seat across the table from him. “My time is very valuable, Bradford---”

“That's her damn house,” Drake Bradford spat. “That's where Vicki Lawson is right now, Max! I wouldn't have told you about it if I didn't know for sure---”

Bradford's rant was cut off with an exaggerated sigh from “Max”---aka Max Mills. Often said to be “the next Bill Gates”, and even compared to Gary Kildall, the late founder of Digital Research, Mills was well-known for three reasons: his wealth and impeccable taste, his media-centric appeal....and his disdain for the robotics industry as a whole. “I know you wouldn't be wasting my time,” he replied, making an effort not to yawn as he spoke the words, “and after all you've done for me, helping you with this....small favour is the least I can do to repay you. That being said....” He interlaced his fingers, cracking the knuckles before resting his hands on the table and staring into Bradford's eyes. “.....I'm starting to wonder why you're after the girl, instead of her father.”

“I don't give a crap about her dad!” Drake spat. “That stupid girl–--”

“Drake,” Max calmly replied, “I'm more than happy to help you pursue this vendetta of yours....but I need more to go on than just 'she screwed me over'.” He turned a pen over in his hands as he spoke, remembering what had dragged him into this mess to begin with. One of his girls, a runner with a flawless record, an equally flawless appearance and something of an infatuation with him, had been in a bit of an accident involving an industrial press at one of Mills' factories. What should've been a bloody mess, however, revealed the girl to have been a humanoid robot of some kind, complete with a maker's mark---which had led Max nowhere after a few weeks of calls, Internet searches and his lawyers suddenly showing up in the middle of the night to tell him they'd “take care of it”, and to please stop calling people with threats of legal action.

The fact that the girl's two “sisters”, both with the last name Bishop, never called or asked about her served only to further his paranoia, even more than the lawyers' claims of “you voided her warranty” had.

Thus, a quick trip to the old Rolodex was in order, and one name that came up time and again was Bradford. Max's parents had worked with the Bradford family once upon a time, and it was obvious that the two could help each other in this newest time of need.

Speaking of which....

“....and she threw me into the damn magazine rack!” Bradford was shouting. Max nearly smirked, but decided against it as Bradford finished his rant. “And now....this Octavia person......she's---Max, I need your help, here!”

“Then you can earn it,” Max coolly replied, reaching under the table. “You've seen one of these before?”

Bradford nearly started yelling again, stopping only when Max laid a smallish, golf ball-sized orb on the table and rolled it between his hands. “They pulled this out of Mel's head after her little 'accident' with the metal press,” he explained. “My guess is, it's her black box---a recorder for everything she sees and hears, useful for whoever planted her on my team.” He palmed the orb, leaning forward as he did; “I've heard whispers for a good long while, Drake,” he continued. “Names and acronyms that I never understood---DVS, Coalition, ALPA, the House......and I think I want to join you at the table for this game. I want in.

“You don't want this,” Bradford stammered. “You....you're not gonna want to be a part of this, Max---”

“Then you can go without my help,” Max replied, leaning back and folding his arms. “I've been following a lot of leads for a long time, Drake.....you've got connections I could only dream of. You want me to help you with the Lawson girl, then tell me who these people are---starting with the DVS.”

At the mention of those three letters, Bradford flinched. “....you....you want them?!

Max started to say something, but stopped. There was a genuine panic in Bradford's words, almost as if the DVS (who or whatever they were) had managed to wreck his life in the span of a few days. He'd known Drake for years, and considered himself a close business associate---and, quite possibly, even a good friend.

“Drake,” he finally stated, “not only do I want them....” A chuckle escaped his lips. “What are you so damn scared of, anyway?” he asked, letting his admittedly purile remark die on his tongue. “Did they---”

“IT DOESN'T MATTER,” Drake roared. His fists smashed into the table like mallets, rattling the dishes and nearly knocking the onyx orb from Max's hands. “They....I.....” As swiftly as his fists had hit the table, they unclenched as he tore at his hair. “I can't.....it......”

As Max watched, Drake Bradford buried his face in his hands and, for the first time in years, wept.

It should've been a sobering moment---the time for Max to finally realize he was the proverbial fool rushing in where the angels feared to tread. Indeed, part of him wanted to just let this pursuit of the DVS boil off into the ether, evaporating like Bradford's tears eventually would.....but the other part---the calculating, cunning and downright predatory side of him that had made him Silicon Valley's answer to the wolves of Wall Street---was not going to let that happen.

“Drake,” he softly informed his friend, “just tell me where to find them, and I'll make it all go away.”

Had his brother been present---or still alive, for that matter---he would've told Max not to pull such a dick move on Bradford. But it was his specialty, after all---the Max Mills playbook relied extensively on manipulation, coercion, ego-building and exploitation. He'd built his career on saying what needed to be said to the people who needed to hear it---what his grandparents (who'd raised him for a time after the incident that took his parents from him) called “attitude”, his peers recognized as a Type A personality.

“Drake,” he repeated, a bit louder this time. “I'm here. Just look across the table---look at me, my man. I'm here for you.” He smiled---the expression surprisingly genuine-looking. “You need anything, just ask.”

“.....you....you're really gonna do it,” Drake muttered. “You're going after the DVS?”

It occurred to Max that he'd managed to make Bradford forget about “the Lawson girl” for the time being----a good sign. “Yeah, I'm going after the DVS.”
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“UPSTAIRS CLEAR!” Vicki's voice rang out through the upper floor of the Lawson residence, even as groans and the occasional profanity were emanating from the rooms below. The would-be intruder from Jamie's room had been handcuffed to the handles of the cabinet Vicki had spent her nights in, when she was still a “walking appliance”. “Everything sorted down---”

A fresh burst of gunfire, followed by someone getting hit in the kneecap and sent to the floor in a screaming heap, cut her off.

“Still working on sorting it all out,” Harris replied, not looking up from the incident report form he was filling out as Vicki descended the stairs, “but you might be surprised to know that only a few of these guys are known associates of Drake Bradford. The rest....” Now, he did turn to glance at Vicki. “The rest are working for someone we've never dealt with before. Not even ex-Knightwind this time---” Another pained shout from a few feet away cut him off, but he ignored it. “---whoever they are,” he continued, as Alicia wrestled the yelling idiot to the floor, “they're not amateurs. EMP grenades, low-charge SCEMP rounds....”

“They knew they'd be facing androids,” Vicki finished. “Or maybe they were here---”

“For you?” Rae Clarke called out, emerging from the kitchen. “Wouldn't bet on it---oh, and apologies for disappearing on everyone during the big shootout.....had some business to attend to downstairs. Hope none of ours got hurt....” She let the words trail off. “....and who's mad at me now?”

Vicki stared at her for a moment. “What exactly were you doing down there?” Her gaze rested on Rae's head, and what she was no longer wearing on top of it. “.....and where's the Major's fedora?”

“You're still hung up on that?” Rae giggled. “Seriously, Vicks...it's a hat. He can get another one.”

Harris and Vicki exchanged annoyed glances. “You spent all that time in the basement to drop off a hat?

“No, Harris, I didn't spend all that time in the basement to drop off a hat. I was doing other things---”

“We can discuss the details later,” Vicki cut in. “We need to figure out who these people are and what the hell they were doing....here....” Her thought processes instantly zeroed-in on one particular scenario: “Has anyone checked on Ted?!” She ran past Harris and Rae, to the couch where her father had been napping....

….to find the blanket Alicia draped over him resting on the sofa with nobody underneath it.

Dad....”

“Is five blocks away,” Harris stated. “As soon as the shooting started, some of our people got Ted out the door and into a car outside. He's safe, Vicki.”

A few seconds passed before the brunette gynoid was able to nod in agreement. “Fair enough.”

“Sucks that the mission briefing's gone to pot, though,” Rae mused. “We all came here for information---oh, what now?!” That last remark was directed at her phone, though her annoyance vanished when she read the name of the caller. “It's Ked---Kylie,” she murmured. “I....should take this, probably....” She headed back into the kitchen, closing the door behind her.

“.....so, if Ted's safe,” Vicki continued, choosing to ignore the drama of Rae's love life for the time being, “what's our next move? We still need to contain Epsilon and keep him from tearing apart all of Silicon Valley...”

Her question earned a stern glare from Harris. “I'm pretty sure that tearing apart Silicon Valley is the last---”

Something in the kitchen hit the floor and shattered, instantly catching Vicki's attention. “SORRY,” Rae called out, “stupid coffee mug handle got all sweaty on me.....” The chestnut-haired gynoid poked her head through the partially-opened door. “Hope you didn't have too much sentimental attachment to this...”

“If it's the Garfield mug, don't sweat it. Mom always said there was lead paint in that thing...”

“Which begs the question of why she never took a hammer to it herself,” Rae teased, striding into the living room. “ANYway. Keddy's on her way here---she ran into a bit of trouble at an old factory, but she's fine now.” She grinned. “Also, for the record....might want to fix up the furniture before Joanie gets back---”

“My mother,” Vicki replied, “is out of town. I'll have someone take care of---Rae, who are you calling?!”

The brunette gynoid's panicked question prompted Rae to pull a face. “I'm calling Alicia, to give the all-clear.”

After an exasperated sigh, Vicki flopped down on the sofa. “Call HQ while you're at it---we're holding an emergency briefing. Calliope, go make sure nobody's hiding in any of the other rooms upstairs---your clockworks are less susceptible to EMPs than conventional circuitry. Everyone else....just keep these people contained.” Even in her somewhat-weary state, that air of finality she'd become famous for was clear. “Harris, get a message out to HQ....if they need a secondary testimony about this, get Rae to talk to them.”

Harris nodded. “I guess the Major will join the briefing when he gets back....”

Vicki sighed again. “He can join in after he explains why he put a van through the fence...”
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"No one steals our chicks.....and lives!"

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Re: The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 4)

Post by DollSpace » Tue Apr 19, 2016 12:01 pm

I like it, though the action seems a bit static. Perhaps moving it outside to the bcack yard would have allowed more incidents simultaneously? Either way, the storytelling is solid and I liked how it was presented and it movede the plot along nicely. Looking forward to the next part!

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