The V.I.C.I. Diaries: Lawson's Eleven (Bonus Chapter)

[DukeNukem 2417]

Eleven individuals rode the elevator down to the lowest floor of United Robotronics’ international headquarters, none of them addressing each other or even looking anywhere but the floor. All of them had been summoned for one reason; they weren’t there to discuss profit margins and future product lines, or to squabble about such matters as “territorial marketing campaigns” and buying airtime for commercials.

All of them were there to meet with a man who, as of now, wanted answers.

If they intended to leave the building alive, they would give those answers.

Of the two in the conference room already, only one was actually present in the physical sense; the other, due to necessity, was communicating via webcam from his prison cell. Only twelve of the thirteen seats (including the one occupied by the monitor connected to the aforementioned prison webcam) were lit, and even those barely allowed the twelve to see each other’s faces.

As for the thirteenth….

“Esteemed colleagues, I welcome you all to this…the twelfth gathering of the DVS in as many years.” Not a soul in the room could claim to hear the voice of the Baron without shivering. “As you are well aware, our efforts to spread further dissent between the Coalition for Worldwide Cybernetic Unity and the Artificial Lifeform Protection Agency have been…defeated, time and again, by one Victoria Ann-Smith Lawson. She has bested efforts to place a Coalition-backed gynoid singer into the public spotlight, she has sidelined missions to steal corporate secrets from unaffiliated robotics companies…”

His voice dropped to a malicious whisper: “…and she has struck down William J. Rengold III…better known to the world at large as Faceless---“

The sound of someone clearing his throat punctuated the Baron’s remark. “You wish to speak, D?”

“I do,” a voice from across the table replied. “If I may trouble you with boldness, Baron…why have your efforts against these organizations not been targeted at this Lawson girl individually? She seems to have become their poster child as of late---the defeats of the Family of Steel and the Spare Parts Society notwithstanding---“

“Hollow victories,” a lightly German-accented countered. “Falken was no match for her, and the SPS---“

A resonant, almost bell-like clang sounded from the Baron’s seat. “Enough, Colonel. D…”

“Thank you, Baron. As I was saying…this Lawson girl is clearly more trouble than any one operative from the ALPA or the Coaliton has been in years past…if we are to have any hope of succeeding in our endeavours, we must move against her; only when she has been deposed can we return focus to our true mission.”

Across the table, someone scoffed. “You have a better recourse, Miss Thorne?” the Baron inquired.

The light that blazed into existance over the chair of “Miss Thorne” revealed a face that could’ve been 18 or 29, depending on the light; at the moment, she looked just old enough to be starting college…ironic, considering that she’d already earned several doctorates over the last four decades. “Actually, I believe our esteemed colleague has a point,” she calmly replied, her voice carrying the coldness of a winter dawn with every word. “If we combine our efforts to focus on this Victoria Lawson, she could be eliminated with minimal resistance.”

The Colonel gave a heavy sigh. “You’re saying we should invade her college?

“I’m saying nothing of the sort. She needs to be tested…by one of us.”

A derisive laugh sounded from the monitor connecting Matthew Hannsen to the chamber. “And I suppose you want to do the honors, Miss Grandmaster?” he drawled. “Or maybe you’d let the old Iron Ripper handle her, or lock her in a room with Thascalos and see how that turns out---“

“I was going to suggest that you be the one to handle her,” the girl across the table coolly replied.

Silence filled the room.

“Do you realize what you’ve just said?!” another voice---this one older, male, and sounding more than a bit eccentric---hissed. “You’d leave the Lawson girl’s fate in the hands of a convict?! She should be made to tremble before the might of the heavens, to quake with fear as His word condemns her to---“

Another resonating clong sounded. “Let Miss Thorne speak, Father,” the Baron advised. “If you would…”

“Hannsen has been campaigning to officially join the DVS for years,” Thorne explained. “If you truly want him to join our ranks, then give him the opportunity to crush Victoria Lawson’s spirit. Even if she escapes with her life intact, the psychological scars Hannsen can inflict upon her will be buried in her psyche…which will give her less time to heal from her next loss.” A smile that flirted with being a smirk played at her lips. “This is only phase one, of course…but if it succeeds---“

“Which it will,” Hannsen stated.

“If it succeeds, we can use the results to prepare further assaults on her psychological well-being. In time, we will break down her mental defences…and she will know the true power of the DVS.”

Within the shadows that surrounded him, the Baron nodded. “Are you up to the task, Hannsen?”

The chuckle that emanated from the monitor in Hannsen’s seat carried unbridled malice. “Not only am I ready for it,” he replied, “but ‘Victoria Ann-Smith Lawson’ will be wishing she’d stayed dead. I’ll have her begging for a padded cell in less than a day…if she’s lucky.”

“And if she retains her sanity?” the one called Thascalos inquired. “What if your plan fails, as Faceless did---“

“Faceless,” Hannsen snarled, “was a knee-jerking lunatic with more issues than a magazine rack. He was nothing compared to me---“

A third clong echoed through the room, drowning out Hannsen’s tirade. “It is settled,” the Baron declared. “In a month’s time, Hannsen, you will have the opportunity to break Victoria Ann-Smith Lawson’s morale with every resource the DVS can provide…if she is deemed to no longer be a threat to us by the end of September, you will join our illustrious ranks with all the honors and privileges befitting your status. Should you fail, however….”

“I won’t fail,” Hannsen promised.

“I hope, for your sake, that you are correct.” With that, the Baron nodded at the monitor; as the others watched in silence, the screen gradually faded to black. “As for the rest of you---your work is by no means complete. I expect nothing less than constant vigilance to our cause…and should vigilance fail you---“

Eleven voices simultaneously declared “We shall not fail.”

“Then go,” the Baron intoned, “and know that providence has favored our undertakings…together, we will build a new order for the ages.” Eleven figures rose from their seats and left, all of them planning how best to deal with this “Lawson girl” before her work cut into their own assignments (one in particular was already scheming to keep Vicki Lawson as far away from their own home turf---“the Hill”---as possible). Within a few hours, they would be back to what they did best.

As for the Baron, he would be doing what he did best…

…starting with the…sudden termination of several Coalition employees.
---------------------
“Give it to me straight…..how bad do I look?”

Jamie Lawson’s question would’ve prompted a groan from Ted and Joan at any other time; now, however, they were just glad to see that he was still alive. “You look like something out of a horror film,” Joan replied. “All those bandages just make it worse---“

“Those bandages are keeping him from getting infections,” Ted reminded her.

Joan arched an eyebrow; “I knew that,” she testilly replied. “I was just saying…he looks awful.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jamie would’ve rolled his eyes---except the gesture would’ve hurt like hell. “How’s Vicki?”

Ted smiled proudly. “Alive again, for starters…and she’s learned a few new tricks---“ He stopped, noticing Joan’s exaggerated throat-clearing; “Then again,” he added, “that’s…not really why we’re here, Jamie…your mother and I both want to talk to you about---“

“You want to tell me off for trying to kick Faceless’ ass,” Jamie sullenly replied.

Ted started to say something about Jamie’s “inappropriate language”, but stopped when Joan put her hand on his shoulder. “We’re not here to ‘tell you off’, Jamie,” she informed him. “We’re here to say that, even though you could’ve gotten yourself killed trying to…oh,Ted, I can’t do this!”

For a few brief moments, nobody spoke.

“Jamie,” Ted finally muttered, “we’re not exactly, ah, pleased with what you did…but seeing as how it is the thought that counts….” He coughed something that sounded like it had the word “proud” in it. Jamie, for his part, wasn’t about to let them off that easily: “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that---“

“We’re proud of you for standing up to Faceless the way you did,” Joan finally admitted.

Beneath the swaths of gauze that covered his entire face, Jamie managed a smile. “Just doing what any good brother would do for his sister,” he replied. “…of course, most brothers don’t have sisters powered by a RadioThermionic Generator, or anything along those lines…but I’m not ‘most brothers’, so…yeah.” He sighed, staring up at the ceiling; “They told me I won’t look the same when I come out of here, in case nobody’s told you about that yet,” he added. “So I have to ask again: How bad does it look?”

Ted sighed. “It looks….horrific, Jamie. I’m not even going to lie---you look like you just barely escaped from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or something…” He shuddered at the thought. “Considering who actually did all of this to you---“

A knock at the door prompted Ted to stop talking; “Who is it?” Joan called out.

“Just a friend of the family,” Anton Malvineous cheerfully called out. “I brought get-well-soon gifts!”

Jamie nodded his approval. “After the day I’ve had, a few get-well-soon gifts sound like a pretty good call,” he mused. “As long as they’re not from that novelty store in the mall,” Joan warned. “If he brought anything from there---“

“We’re all mature adults here, Joanie,” Ted chided, striding over to the door. “What could he---GAAAH!”

Several spring-loaded snakes flew through the opened door, prompting Ted to jump back. “A bit touchy, aren’t we?” Anton joked, ambling into the room with an armfull of magazines. “I thought Jamie might like to have a nice flashback to simpler times,” he explained, handing the vintage 90s video-gaming literature over to Joan and Jamie. “All from my own private library---meaning that I’d like them back in pristine condition as soon as the patient’s been discharged.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Jamie replied. “How many strategy guides do you have, by the way?”

“Oh, about…seventy.” Anton grinned; “The 90s just so happened to be a great decade for those who wanted some quality gaming,” he added. “Anyways…I’d love to spend the rest of my visit talking about the Super NES and the Genesis, but that’ll have to wait for another day, seeing as how---“

“You wanted to see how I’m doing,” Jamie finished. “Like everyone else who’s shown up so far.”

Anton sighed as he sat down on the couch that could be pulled out to form a bed. “You’re probably one of the few people to actually go looking for Faceless and not get completely obliterated in the process,” he informed Vicki’s brother. “I’ve heard of cases where relatives of his past victims tried to find him, and…well, they were found in roadside barns, dumpsters, culverts and any number of horrible places a person could spend their last hours of life. In any case---“

“This isn’t ‘any case’, Anton,” Ted insisted. “Jamie’s my son---”

“And he wanted to avenge the defeat of your daughter,” Anton reiterated. “I heard that part of the argument from outside, Ted---you don’t have to drag it back up now. In my professional and personal opinion, Jamie did something that, a few…shall we say, mis-steps…aside, should be commended….”

He glanced at Jamie’s bandaged form “Though, word to the wise,” he whispered. “Don’t try it again.”

“I won’t,” Jamie muttered.

“Good. I assume Vicki’s already dropped in?”

“Thirty minutes ago,” Joan replied. “She’ll be back after appointment at the psychiatrist’s office; I never thought this sort of thing could take that much of a toll on her…” She gave Ted a concerned look. “This isn’t going to affect her permanently, is it?” she murmured. Ted’s intended reply was cut off by the in-room phone. “That’ll be the nurses,” Jamie drawled.

“Let me guess,” Anton quipped. “Sponge-bath?”

“More like ‘catheter’,” Jamie groaned. “I can’t even get up to piss….”

Anton shrugged. “They probably don’t want you agitating any of your wounds until the stitches and glue set in,” he reasoned. “It’s a much more sensible explanation than the alternative…anyways, Ted, Joan---why don’t we continue this conversation outside?” He gestured for Jamie’s parents to follow him into the hallway as the nurses arrived; once the door was closed, Anton glanced up and down the hallway. “Seeing as how neither of you are looking particularly panicked now,” he began, “can we safely assume that---“

“We’re doing as good as a family in this situation can do,” Joan murmured. “One daughter seeing a shrink, the other in the hospital…not exactly that weird, when you think about it, but a lot different from the norms around the house.” Ted nodded his agreement. “Could be better, could be worse.”

“Now that’s the mindset of an optimist,” Anton beamed. “I suggest you hold onto it…because if certain rumors are true, then this will be the least of your problems…” His smile faded. “I can’t say that much about it here, but…just call me later, and we’ll talk on a secure line.” With that, he strolled off towards the elevators. “Well,” Ted mused, “that was…enlightening.” Joan nodded; “I’ll just be glad when this whole thing is over with---“ A pained shout, followed by a half-groan, half-sigh, cut her off. “…mainly because I won’t have to hear that anymore,” she finished. “I just hope we don’t have to go through this again…ever.”

Ted hugged her close. “That makes two of us, Joanie…”

…counting Vicki, he mentally added, it definitely makes three.
---------------------
The Man in Grey felt a pair of hands shove him away, just in time to narrowly avoid Faceless’ lunging stab. “Get…them…home…Publius….”

“So,” Faceless hissed, “the whore does have a heart…” Slowly, he withdrew his right-hand wristblade from the stricken gynoid’s torso. “Too bad for you that it’s…broken,” he sneered, flicking the blade out; a few drops of honey-gold fluid flew from the blade to hit the floor. “Let’s see how well you’ve been built---”

“Do…whatever you want…to me,” Claudia stammered. “I’m…not….afraid…”

A dark chuckle sounded from behind Faceless’ mask. “Let’s see if we can’t change that.”

He held both blades to Claudia’s neck, like a set of oversized gardening shears. “Time to see what will break first,” he crooned. “Your iron resolve…or your worthless neck.” He pressed inward, the blades biting against the gynoid’s neck and drawing more vital fluids from her internal workings. “Feel free to scream, by the way---”

“I’M…NOT…AFRAID!” Claudia thundered, staggering forward. “I---secondary power cell leakage, systems damage critical---WON’T…SCREAM---warning: failure to replace---” Servos in her neck buzzed angrily as she stumbled forward, barely able to stop herself from falling to the floor face-first. “You…are…nothing,” she breathed, rising to her knees---

---only for Faceless’ blades to pierce her chest, just above her bosom.

“Then ‘nothing’ has ended your pathetic existence,” the Butcher of Lake Gilmour whispered, tearing one of the blades out of Claudia’s chest. “Just to be on the safe side…." He reared back, savoring the anticipation…

“NO!”

The Man in Grey felt the scream leave his lips as he bolted upright, his breath coming in ragged gasps as reality seemed to bleed back through. Claudia’s death had been replaying in his mind ever since he’d watched, horrorstruck, as Faceless stabbed the blonde gynoid through the head with both wristblades before tearing it apart…

….and now, that incident was seared in his mind for all eternity.

Just like those he’d been running from all this time.

Tears---damnable, bitter tears---stained the bedsheets as he tried desperately to make himself forget---but then again, there wasn’t really any reliable way to wipe that sort of thing from one’s mind. Even now, with Faceless undergoing “emergency treatment” in an ALPA-financed hospital (mainly to keep him alive so that he could finally face justice), there was something that still nagged at the Man about what the Butcher of Lake Gilmour had done to Claudia. Yes, he’d killed her---and there was a very high probability that he’d known about her memory backups being lost due to corporate ineptitude---but…it was deeper than that…deeper than just seeing a good friend get struck down, or feeling that sense of helplessness---

“You imagined that happening to Hannah, didn’t you?”

Had those words been spoken by anyone other than Tawny, the Man in Grey would’ve jumped from the bed and beaten them to a bloody pulp with his bare hands. “That door was locked,” he intoned. “Deadbolted from the inside---“

“A girl has her ways,” Tawny teased. “Still,” she continued, her smile fading as she spoke, “am I right?”

The Man shuffled to the far end of the room, not bothering to look her in the eye as he grabbed his mask.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” the gynoid muttered. “Look, you can’t beat yourself up over this---“

“I can,” the Man rasped, “and I will….” He punched the wall again; “That could’ve been me,” he wailed. “If my life…if my entire existence hadn’t taken the turn it did…if I’d never found out just how depraved a human being William J. Rengold III is when we…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Tawny decided to do the job for him: “…when you ran together in your little Hellfire Club?”

A silent nod was the only answer she received.

“Look,” she assured him, striding over to put her arm around his shoulder, “William was the one who turned out to be the monster---you were just…misguided. You thought that you could fill the void in your life with cheap thrills and scaring people shitless, but when Willam proved to be the big bad psychopath that he was---“

“I was the only one who cared,” the Man moaned. “The others…they only cared about themselves…”

Despite her unease with knowing so much about the Man in Grey’s sordid history, Tawny had promised both Oberon and Celeste that she would do her best to keep him from going too far to forget. “Well, at least one of them had their priorities straight,” she reminded him. “They wore their masks to terrify people…and in William’s case, he wore his as an extension of what he truly was…” She gently pulled the Man’s mask off of his face. “…but you wear yours because you don’t want people to remember who you were…even though you were a good person once, before William J. Rengold III tried to corrupt you.”

“And they succeeded,” the Man wept.

“No, they didn’t,” Tawny insisted. “Before this…before the Grey….you had a wife, a family…you were happy, Publius. The only reason you took up the mask again was because of Faceless…” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “The fact that a man like you could bring a girl as kind, sweet and loving as Hannah into this world is testament to the fact that you’re not as lost as you want to be…you’re better than you know.”

Once again, tears streamed down the face of the Man in Grey…but they held an undertone of joy this time.

“Just for the record,” the dirty-blonde gynoid added, “I think Hannah would be proud of you for having come this far.” She smiled; “She inherited a lot from you, Publius,” she whispered. “I have a feeling she’d make a great Field Agent for the ALPA one day…unless she decides to find a career that’ll let her express all that boundless creative energy she got from her mom.” She hugged the Man’s shoulders from behind. “This is what separates you from the rest of Faceless’ mask-wearing idiot squad…you still have something to live for. Never let anyone take that away from you, and never let them tell you otherwise---and yes, ‘them’ in this case includes Oberon.”

The Man glanced over his shoulder; “He’s….not angry with me?”

“He does still think you should leave the Valley for a while,” Tawny admitted, “but…he’s not angry.”

“Considering my…infractions,” the Man replied quietly, his rasping voice sounding surprisingly gentle (even to his own ears), “that’s more than a bit surprising…” He pulled his mask back on. “Tell him that I’ll be willing to meet with him soon to discuss…penalties, if that’s what he wants to call them.”

Tawny nodded. “Not a problem.” She grinned again and rose from the bed, heading for the door… “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

The Man stared at her for a moment. “Thank you….for everything.”

“Well,” Tawny replied, “I figured you needed to remember that you’re not alone…and that you are, despite all evidence to the contrary, still loved.” With one last reassuring smile, she turned and walked out, leaving the Man in Grey to gather his thoughts.

Maybe Lennon was right about love after all…
---------------------
Within five seconds of leaving the apartment, Tawny crossed the street, looking over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Once she was sure nobody else (even a fellow agent of the House) was in sight, the dirty-blonde gynoid headed for a back-alley, where an old (yet immaculately polished) Cadillac was waiting…as was the man inside.

“Well?”

“Well what, Oberon? I told him that he’s better than he thinks he is, that you’re not pissed off at him, and that Hannah would be proud of him. That is what you wanted me to say, right?”

Oberon nodded. “Right on all counts…especially in regards to Hannah.” He smiled; “I sincerely hope she can meet Vicki someday soon,” he murmured. “In any case…back to the main order of business…you’ve still been following the list, I take it?”

Tawny rolled her eyes. “Followed it, and snagged four of the old books you wanted.” She removed a piece of paper from her purse; “This one, and those three,” she informed the ALPA chairman, pointing to the four names. “All of which were more than a bit…worn, but otherwise still useable. Also, Celeste asked me to ask you about that whole incident in Detroit earlier this year….and I’m going to stop talking now, because I know that look you’re giving me, and it just screams ‘please shut up or I may have to break something’.” She leaned back in her seat.

“You need to get your body language interpretation software updated,” Oberon joked, giving a dry chuckle as he went over the list. “I was actually thinking of something entirely unrelated…anyways, we won’t be here for much longer. Our third is---” The front passenger-side door opened, and a figure quickly ducked into the car, a few quiet curses escaping his lips. “Glad you could make it, Harrington,” Oberon beamed.

James Harrington glanced at Oberon with more than a hint of annoyance. “I had to cut through a parade to get here,” he scowled. “Drove five blocks, waving and smiling at a bunch of people who thought I was part of the show…and then I nearly took another wrong turn and wound up on the wrong exit road.” He sighed; “Next time you want one of these clandestine meetings that nobody else is supposed to know about,” he suggested, “let me pick the location, okay?”

“As long as it’s not a burger barn, we’ll be fine,” Oberon replied, smiling. “Now then…to business.”

Harrington handed over a small Ziploc bag full of flash drives; “These were recovered from several targets that were considered high-priority by Faceless,” he explained. “From what we can gather, he was planning on going after them once he was finished with the Lawsons---”

“Because they were all survivors,” Oberon finished. “From his past massacres.”

Tawny stared, aghast.

“I assume your people found this out well beforehand,” Harrington mused. Oberon shook his head; “We only just found out yesterday,” he admitted. “Fact of the matter is, we got lucky---Reaver and Hummingbird got the info from another one of ours, and he only found it because he was digging into Faceless’ past…which turned up almost enough info to get the attention of everyone from the local PD to the SIS…or should we be calling them MI6?” He allowed himself a grin; “I can never remember what to call them these days…”

“This is nothing to laugh at,” Harrington countered. “Faceless killed a lot of good people---our people---and if it wasn’t for Vicki getting fixed in time---yes, Tawny, I know what Vicki is---anyways, if it wasn’t for her getting repaired, then the Butcher of Lake Gilmour---“

“Would’ve been taken down by someone else,” Oberon finished.

After a few seconds of silence, Harrington nodded. “Makes about as much sense as anything I’d think of…”

“Speaking of making sense,” Oberon mused, “I hear your agents have been finding Faceless’ laptops all over Silicon Valley…the ones he used to hack into Vicki.” He arched an eyebrow; “Any chance we could…oh, I don’t know, work out a deal where you return the laptops to the ALPA?”

The Coalition Chairman steepled his fingers. “What kind of a deal---“

“The kind of deal where we all forget that we posted Faceless’ bail in the 90s,” Oberon coldly replied, no trace of his earlier smile remaining. “All of us were there, and we all saw it happen…and chose to do nothing to stop it. You give the word to your people that the records need a good spring cleaning, and I’ll tell mine to do the same, and we both pretend that neither the Artificial Lifeform Protection Agency or the Coalition for Worldwide Cybernetic Unity never tried to get that bastard out of jail.”

Two full minutes passed before Harrington spoke again: “Consider it done. Hell, I would’v proposed the same thing to you if we’d found the laptops first.”

Oberon nodded. “Glad we could get that sorted out, then…” He grinned. “In any case, we need those laptops in an ALPA laboratory for analysis and possible wiping; knowing Faceless, they’re probably loaded with more viruses than a mosquito.” He glanced at Tawny for a moment; “We’ll also need anything your people may have recovered from his attacks on the House,” he added.

“Give me a second,” Harrington muttered, thumbing something on his iPhone. “And…done.” He grinned.

“You just authorized the transfer?” Tawny mused. “Don’t tell me---“

“There’s an app for that,” Harrington and Oberon simultaneously replied, pausing to glance at each other before laughing hysterically. “You two are just weird,” the dirty-blonde gynoid muttered. “Seriously…”

Harrington waved away the charge of weirdness; “Trust me,” he replied, “Charlotte’s seen and heard crazier things. I ever tell you about the time I thought she was away with her friends for Spring Break, and I decided to do the whole Risky Business thing---and I mean full-on, sliding around in my BVDs without a care in the world, Bob Seger blasting on the iPod…well, lo and behold, I do the slide, start dancing around and then turn---“

Oberon was quaking in his seat, his cheeks a light red from trying to hold in a belly laugh.

“---and as soon as I turn around, there’s Charlotte and five or six of her friends coming by to borrow some towels,” Harrington finished, “and…it was just one of those moments where I’m pretty sure she wished she had a rewind button.” He sighed and shook his head, all while Oberon briefly excused himself from the car to go laugh in the alley. “Oh, and apparently, the seat of my boxers had split,” Harrington quietly added, “so…not a fun morning for me.”

Tawny stared at him. “How many people have you told this story to?”

“Just five, counting you and Oberon.”

“My advice? Keep it that way.”

Harrington nodded. “Fair enough…” He opened the front passenger door; “You can get back in the car now,” he called out. Oberon returned to his seat, still chuckling. “Sorry about that,” he apologized. “Did he mention the split boxers bit---actually, never mind. We have more pressing business to attend to…and preferably in a more secure location. Driver, if you would…bring us to my building and, ah…drop by a McDonald’s on the way, I’m feeling a bit peckish.”

Tawny caught a flash of purple hair reflected in the rearview mirror before the car began moving.

“So,” Oberon mused, “anyone here up for a 5 AM jog next week?”
---------------------
Well, that was enlightening…

Vicki emerged from the psychiatrist’s office with two realizations present in her mind: She hadn’t been crazy for wanting to kill Faceless, and her overall lack of fear towards him after her “comeback” wasn’t a temporary thing.

Also, her dream about Chuck Norris being an art teacher was perfectly normal. Weird, but normal.

“So, did the shrink say if you’re on the crazy train yet, or what?” Kylie Lyndon joked, doing an intentionally-bad Ozzy Osbourne impression. “Y’know,” Vicki replied, “I actually thought he would, but he never did. I guess I’m just one supremely well-adjusted gynoid…”

She sighed. “…speaking of which…how’re you doing?”

“I’ve felt better,” Kylie admitted. “Being attacked by a gynoid hellbent on vengeance is one thing, but being locked in an electrified cage by a psychopath…that’s something else.” She stared at the floor; “Next time you see Jamie,” she murmured, “tell him I said thanks. I mean…if it wasn’t for him, I might’ve been---“

“Let’s just think about how you are,” Vicki suggested, “which is alive.” She drew Kylie in for a hug; “After all,” she teased, “a good hallmate never lets a fellow hallmate get kidnapped by a psychopath…” She ruffled Kylie’s hair with her free hand. “Vicki, you goof!” I spent five minutes combing that this morning!” The two laughed as they exited the building, all fears and memories of their encounters with the Butcher of Lake Gilmour fading fast.

Outside, Major Tom was waiting by the transport that would take them back to HQ. “So,” he inquired, “do I have to start dragging a straightjacket around with me in case you get crazy---“

“Shut up,” Vicki teased. “The psychiatrist said I’m perfectly fine.”

The Major nodded; “Guess I can tell the guys at your dorm to rip out all the padded walls, then,” he began, only for Vicki to start punching him in the shoulder. “I’M KIDDING! I WAS JUST---OW! STOP HITTING ME ALREADY!” Tom pulled an intentionally-crappy hood slide, nearly landing on his butt in the middle of the road; “Okay, seriously,” he gasped, chuckling, “let’s…let’s just go home, okay?”

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Vicki beamed. “And…thanks for bringing me out here, Major. Seriously.”

“Yeah, well,” Tom muttered, “I…I know what it feels like to go through hell, lose a bunch of teammates and feel like absolute crap…I just didn’t want you to have to go through the same thing thinking about what could’ve happened to Jamie, or to yourself---and I know this was your idea, but I drove you out here because---“

“Major,” Vicki cut in, “I get it.”

With that, the brunette gynoid slid into the back passenger-side seat while Kylie took the front passenger’s seat. “So…anyone feel like lunch? We can pass by McDonald’s---“ “I thought we could go to the In & Out Burger,” Kylie suggested.

Vicki groaned out loud. “That’s all the way---why do you want to stop by the In & Out Burger?!”

“Because Lawson’s Eleven will be meeting us there for lunch,” the Major beamed.

At this, Vicki sighed. “In that case…lead on, Major Tom.” She grinned as the car picked up speed. “Y’know,” she mused, “I think I may have to go all out for this year’s Christmas shopping to thank them all for helping to bring me back…”

…and I’ll definitely have to get something for Dad, she added, because without him, I wouldn’t even be here…
---------------------
“He’s still awake?”

“Awake, and angry. I’ve never seen someone fight the effects of fifteen sedatives at once before…not that they should, mind you---it’s tremendously unhealthy.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Doctor. How long before he can be transferred from here?”

“You want my recommendaiton, DuBraul? Never. Leave him here, locked up, to fade into obscurity…but, of course, that wouldn’t be ‘fair’…Keep him for seven months. After that, you put him back in prison.”

“What about another---“

“No other hospital on the planet has the necessary resources to contain him for longer than two weeks, Clive. You know that…”

“I know, I know. It’s just…I was hoping we could wash our hands of this as soon as possible. The longer he stays here, the more chances he’ll have to get in their heads…to psyche them out. He’s done it to better men before, and I know he’ll do it to them.”

“Well, then….you should probably remind them all that they’re dealing with a professional psychopath. On a completely unrelated note, I just realized something…it’s been a while since the last time we talked, DuBraul…I remember you looking a lot younger.”

“Funny thing…I remember you looking older.”

“Well, you know what they say…time flies.”
---------------------
V.I.C.I./Vicki Lawson's Diary: July 11, 2011

I had my first session with the psychiatrist today, and apparently…I’m still sane. Not that I wanted to be proven insane, or anything…

…I just thought that wanting Faceless dead would automatically qualify me as ready for a padded room.

Still, things could be worse. Jamie’s first round of surgeries is done, and he should be back home by next week; I’m probably looking forward to that more than anything else. Also, all of Dad’s friends were at the In & Out Burger for what I’m guessing was a “Happy Sanity Party”---at least, that’s what the banner they had strung up between their cars said. On any other day of the week, I might’ve been pissed off…but after today, I can laugh at it---which proves that I really am sane.

Not all of today’s news was good news, though. The ALPA got Faceless’ laptops from the Coalition, and after just three hours of analysis, they’ve already found a whole terabyte’s worth of data that could’ve easily made life Hell for everyone involved. Rumor has it that Faceless wanted to go after Harrington when he was done with me…in any case, they’ve locked the things up for now. Anyways, I might as well end today’s diary entry now…DuBraul requested that I go through another psyche test just to be on the safe side.

To be honest, I can’t say that I blame him…but, again, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Until next time,
V.I.C.I./Vicki Lawson
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Stay Tuned For
The V.I.C.I. Diaries: A Criminal Mind
Coming to Fembot Central
March 2013
---------------------------

[DollSpace]

Ahh, generating more questions than answers...this bodes well for the quality of the next installment in this awesome series. I can't wait!

[Brytestar]

Now if I can get my own set of stories posted. Still my latest story isn't coming up the way I'd hoped. But without diverting the topic too much. Way to go Duke!!!! Any sneak previews?