Chapter Two

This is the chapter i which Rebecca arrives at her new home.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Rebecca.” Charles says. I glare at him.

I look over to the man other an in the room. He’s sat in an armchair gazing at me with an expression which is hard to read. It looks a bit like amusement.

“Well, I decided that you were worthy of my time.” I say, clambering to my feet.

“Well, we are honoured that you have deigned to join us. I know how busy your… schedule must be.”

I glare at him again. I don’t know what it is about this guy that makes me dislike him. He’s just not that likeable. We stand there in silence for a few minutes, neither one of us wanting to give in and talk first. Finally, the man in the corner speaks.

“Good morning Rebecca, I am John.”

“Good morning John.” I say, looking past Charles. I resolve to ignore him in future. “What is this?”

“What is this? What is this?” Says Charles, gesticulating wildly, “This is the one thing which might save you.”

I look at him quizzically. Save me? Why would I need saving?

John sees my look of confusion and explains. “Occidere, Occidi is an underground organisation which is plotting to overthrow the government.”

“Overthrow the government?”

“Yes, overthrow the government. The government who killed your family!” Charles interjects angrily.

“And where do I come in?” I say to John, ignoring Charles. He is not worthy of my attention, I decide.

“You are going to be an agent.” I look at him quizzically again and he elaborates. “We have contacts within the government who will create a new identity for you. We will place you in an undercover location where you will remain until we tell you to act.”

“So, you, people who I have never met before, are asking me to risk my life to overthrow the government? Are you nuts?” I say incredulously. I’ve worked hard to escape death these past few years. I am so not going to end up in one of the government’s famous prisons.

“Well, the alternative is that we’ll tell them that you’re still alive.” Charles says savagely, “And then they’ll kill you anyway.”

Comprehension dawns on me. If I refuse, I’ll almost certainly die and if I accept, I may be on the winning side of a revolution. But I might be tortured and killed. Who cares, I have nothing to lose anymore, right?

“So you’ll do it?” John asks. I nod my assent. He claps his hands together gleefully.

“What’s my new identity?” I say curiously. I wonder who I’m going to pretend to be next.

“You are Elizabeth Hitches. You were born in America, and as far as the government is concerned, you are an extremely rich heiress who is sympathetic to their cause.”

“Rich heiress? Seriously, are you mental? Do I look rich to you?”

Charles looks me up and down, taking in my tattered clothes and thin body. “No,” he says, “But, we have contacts who will transform you into one.”

I snort. It’s going to take some makeover to transform me into a rich American.

“Yeah, you’re right. She doesn’t have what it takes.” Charles says to John. I glare at him.

“I don’t have what it takes? I DON’T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES?” I shout, “I’VE SPENT EVERY MOMENT OF THE PAST FIVE YEARS RUNNING FROM THESE PEOPLE! OF COURSE I HAVE WHAT IT TAKES!”

Something flashes briefly across Charles’ face. I think its triumph. “So you’ll do it?” He says.

“OF COURSE I’LL BLOODY WELL DO IT!” I shout.

“Good.” He says shortly.

“Right, Rebecca, or should I say Elizabeth, we need to take you somewhere for your, ah… transformation.” John says. He turns to Charles, “Charlie, would you accompany her to the cottage?”

Charles glares at him. John smiles sagely. Charles sighs and nods before striding over to me and grabbing my arm, pulling me roughly from the room.

“Where are we going?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just shut up until we get there, ok?” He says savagely, propelling me up a set of dilapidated stairs. I sigh and allow him to march me up the stairs and along a long, dusty corridor. Eventually, we reach the end of the corridor and he kicks open a door and pushes me through. In the centre of the room is a helicopter pad with a helicopter on it. There is a ceiling. Before I have time to ask Charles how he plans on flying the helicopter out of the room, he presses a button by the light switch. The roof peels back, revealing the grey sky. A cold gust of wind floods into the room. I shiver. He looks over at me and grins. It’s not a cute grin, like girls always rave about; it’s more of a sadistic grin. He looks like a maniac.

He beckons me forward and opens the helicopter door before ushering me inside. He hands me a pair of, what looks like earmuffs, and clambers into the driver’s seat. I notice that the earmuffs have mouthpieces on. I doubt we’ll have much use for those; Charles doesn’t strike me as the talkative type. He puts his headgear on before starting the helicopter engine. He presses a series of buttons and pulls a few levers, before the helicopter begins to take off. We’re rising into the hard grey sky. I look down just in time to see the roof closing again. We’re high above the pavement now. I look up; if I continue to look down, I’ll vomit.

I stare straight ahead out of the windscreen. I see Charles pull a lever out of the corner of my eye. I cannot hear anything except from the noise of the helicopter. I assume that we could speak through the mouthpieces but, I don’t wish to try it out. Once or twice during the journey, I see Charles open his mouth as though he wants to speak but then he closes it again. He looks a bit like a fish. I giggle quietly, safe in the knowledge that he won’t be able to hear over the roar of the helicopter engine. I don’t know where we’re flying too. I would ask but I don’t want to be the first to speak; it’ll look like I’m caving in. Instead, I just stare out of the large pane of glass at the unfriendly grey sky.

I wonder what life as Elizabeth Hitches, the rich American heiress, will be like. If I’m pretending to be rich, they might buy me a house or an apartment. After moving every week for the past few years, the thought of a place of my own fills me with the kind of warmth I used to get when Mum lit the fire in the farmhouse at home. It reminds me of home. I haven’t been back there for years and I doubt I ever will. It’s probably been burnt to the ground. I doubt there’s anything left there now.

I realise that my eyes are getting moist and so I dig my nails into the palm of my hand. I must not cry. I will not cry, I tell myself. I look up. Charles is looking at me. As soon as he realises that I’ve caught him, he looks away again. But, before he turns his head, I catch a glimpse of the expression on his face. Is it pity? Suddenly, I wonder if his real name is Charles and if he lost his parents like I did. Maybe he’s an orphan too. Before I can pity him for too long, I begin to feel angry that he thinks that I need his pity. Me, need pity? Who does he think he is?

Suddenly, I notice that we’re dropping height. I look down. We’re rapidly descending through the thick, pillowy clouds. Suddenly, a large building comes into view. It must be the cottage. From where we are, it looks tiny but, as we get closer, I notice that well, it’s not really a cottage. In fact, it’s not even one building. It looks a bit like a castle but I know that it can’t be a real castle otherwise the government wouldn’t allow it to exist. When we’re about twenty feet up, I notice that there are several buildings sprawled on a green lawn. People are roaming around on the lawn, some talking, others running. Finally, we land on the helicopter pad on top of one of the buildings. I look around. We’re surrounded by grey turrets and towers. I can see a lake in the distance, as well as more buildings next to a dense forest. Charles turns the engines off and removes his earmuff things. He opens the door and clambers out. I stare at him

“Just because you’re pretending to be rich, it doesn’t mean I have to treat you like a princess.” He calls.

Despite myself, I grin. He grins back. We’re two maniacs together. A man in a black suit is striding across the roof towards us. He nods to Charles before shaking my hand.

“Brad.” He says. He grabs one of my arms and Charles grabs the other. Before I can register the fact that they’re holding me in a ridiculously tight grip, they propel me to a hatch, which they force me down. It appears to be some sort of chute. It’s cold and dark and I have to clamp my jaws shut to stop myself from screaming. I hear someone rattling around behind me. Suddenly, light floods the chute and I am propelled out onto some sort of mattress. I haven’t slept on a mattress so comfortable in years. I sigh and roll over, preparing to go to sleep. A deep, booming laugh interrupts by almost-slumber. I open my eyes to see Charles standing over me. I glare at him.

“Come on, sleeping beauty.” He says, offering me his hand. I clamber to my feet and walk to the end of the mattress. I look down. We’re about twenty metres off the floor. I begin to step back. Suddenly, someone pushes me and I hear him laugh again. I’m falling through the air and, I know I should be terrified but, I feel free for the first time in a while. I feel like I’m flying. All too soon, my feet make contact with the hard floor and I bend my knees, like my father taught me too. I look behind me. Charles has just landed. He walks over to me and whispers in my ear. “Come on, darling. We’ve got to make you look like an heiress.” Before adding, “I think you’re going to be in there for a few days.”

He grabs my arm and I try to shake him off but his grip is too tight. B*****d. I see Brad up ahead. He’s walking quickly. Charles quickens his pace and drags me on until we’re level with Brad. Brad escorts us through a maze of corridors before we reach a steel door. He opens it and ushers me inside.

 

Author's Note

Feel free to rip it apart