Mouse and Spook
Christina clapped her hands in glee. She'd really wanted to sell to her native country, and they'd pulled through. Mr Black was probably trying to explain to his superiors just how 2.5 million had turned into 1.76 billion. She hoped they fired his white middle class ass. Damn snooty bastard. She didn't need to be a telepath to know he thought she was a no account Indian woman who'd be easily bought off. Sucks to be you, pal. You underestimated me. The Spook is smarter then ya think.
1 billion, 76 million US dollars. Wowee. She could do a lot of stuff with that amount of cash. She could hire people to track down her targets. God, she could do just about anything. Money was power. And right now, she had an awful lot of power. The rush was positively glorious.
Christina bounced down the basement stairs. "Oh, you've made me a lot of money. One point seven six billion US dollars."
Mouse watched her dully. "Who?"
"The good ol' US of A. You have one of the Hansons to thank for that too. I was just going to go with the first offer, but I called and something this guy said really got me thinking." Christina straddled the chair she had placed in the basement. Mouse's mind whirled in confusion; she'd called the Hansons? "Said two point five million was actually pretty small. And you know what? He was right."
"You called them?"
"Yeah. They showed no interest in getting you back at all," Christina said cruelly and smiled as a glimmer of tears showed in Mouse's eyes. "Why would they want you anyway?"
"Because..."
"Because they loved you? Please, you're smarter then that. Who could love a dirty piece of street trash like you?" Christina stood and left Mouse with the self-loathing she'd fostered and fed with glee. "You'll be going back to the US today, alien. Of course, you probably won't see anything but white walls for the rest of your miserable existence."
Mouse started to cry, tears making their way down her wan, dirty face. The hunter was right. She was worthless. Taylor wasn't looking. Fafnir would have, but he was probably dead. No one was looking for her, and no one cared. If the cats had wanted to find her, they could have. They hadn't, so they didn't. She'd really, really thought they'd cared. Mouse wished she could crawl up in a ball and die.
~*~*~*~
Later that day, Christina placed Mouse inside a special transport container. The inside of the box was moulded to Mouse's body shape, holding her motionless and cutting her off from most sensory experience. Even her fingers were seperated into seperate little tunnels. Mouse's eyes screamed at Christina as the woman placed the top over her, gag already in place to stifle any cries. "Byebye, labrat." Christina put the top on and Mouse was plunged into darkness.
The box moved, shifting and Mouse would have wailed if she could at the lack of knowledge about what was happening to her. Dizzying darkness all around her and she couldn't hear anything but the roaring of blood in her ears.
Christina drove her car to the airport, having already verified that the checks she'd put in place to make sure she got her money had been fulfilled. She parked the car and got out, shades on her eyes. A very sullen looking Mr Black approached her. "She's all yours," Christina said cheerfully. Two musclemen types got the almost coffin shaped box out of the back of the car.
"The alien better be worth all this trouble."
"Hey, free trade is an important facet of our capitilistic philosophy." She dipped her shades. "If you hadn't tried to gyp me the first time..."
"Good bye Miss Jones." Mr Black nodded to her and then turned to the men behind him. "Let's go," he snapped, and the three moved off.
"Ciao, baby!" Christina blew the suits a kiss as she screamed out of the parking lot.