Submerged

Chapter 8: A Devious Plan

After Ben shows the photograph to Cole, he prints out the information regarding to the Man in Black.

"Thanks," Cole responds with a huge smile. "I'll add them to the murder wall."

He hands her two pieces of printed paper and resumes typing on his computer.

"No problem," Ben says. "See you around."

Cole folds the pages into fours and stuffs them into her pocket.

Quietly, she crawls herself out of the hole and walks back home. As soon as Cole steps into her living room, Willow slept peacefully on the gray couch.

Although the red quilt isn't done, her bony legs slithered under it.

Sighing, Cole removes the unfinished quilt away from her, folds the fabric, and sets it on the glass table in front of the women.

Later, Cole vanishes to Willow's bedroom and comes back with her cotton candy pink blanket. She then covers Willow with the bedcovers and kisses her on the cheek.

"Sweet dreams, Mom." Cole whispers.

After tucking her mother in, Cole ventured her way into her own bedroom and changes into her periwinkle dress and black leather boots.

As she approaches the mirror, Cole combs her ombre hair, staring at her reflection.

Her nose is as smaller than a button; every time she looks at her hair, it grew radiant and majestic than before.

Cole's brown eyes glimmered as she brushes her neat hair and sets the red comb on the top drawer.

She carefully applies small lip gloss and places it next to the comb.

As Cole rummages her dirty jeans for her phone, she grabs a black purse off of her bed and stuffs the device inside, along with a taser and a mini flashlight.

Always be prepared for the worst, her father always say.

It pains her to admit it, but Cole misses her father everyday. She regrets pushing Lewis away from her life as if he's nothing.

Cole hates him of course, but sometimes she wants to talk to Lewis, face to face. Back in Princeton, she would write numerous letters to her father in prison.

Everyday, Cole would pray Lewis would read them, and he responded back, telling her how much he loves Cole and her mother.

They keep receiving letters back and forth, until Willow found out and revokes her letter privileges.

Whenever Ben comes to her house to sleepover or makeout, Cole pours out the details to him. She would tell him that she regrets being angry with Lewis and desperately wants to be with him.

"I miss Dad," Cole would say while smoothing Ben's brown hair.

"But every now and then, I go back to that fateful day. What should I do?"

Ben sighs then kisses the knuckles on her hand.

"I think you should go and visit your father," Ben advised.

"It would mean so much to him if you did."

She smoothes her finger across Ben's cheek and stares into his heterochromia eyes. While his left eye twinkles green, his right brown eyes stared into hers.

"But what if Mom doesn't want me too?" Cole asked.

"Fight your way through it," Ben insisted.

Cole gave Ben a small smile then kisses him on the mouth.

She felts his hand touching her cheek as they embraced over and over again.

"Cole," a voice said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Are you ready?"

Cole turns to see Ben wearing a dark brooding tuxedo. His messy brown hair is slicked with gel, he wore a sweet smelling cologne, and his hands were tucked inside his pockets.

"You look handsome," Cole complimented.

Ben gave a shy smile as she approached him and adjusts his black bowtie.

"Your tie is a bit crooked," Cole giggled.

Ben smiled as Cole loosens his tie and reties it back again.

She takes a step back and admires her work.

"There," Cole beamed.

"Thanks," Ben replies. "Let's go before our ride is here."

An arc forms on her eyebrow.

Our ride? Cole thought.

Just then, a loud car horn came out of nowhere.

Cole walks up to see an expensive black limo, leaning against her driveway.

"Wow," she whistled. "Harry thought of everything."

Ben offers her his elbow and Cole politely takes it.

As she slips her arms around it, the friends navigated downstairs and head out of the house.

Cole looks over her shoulder to see Willow, sleeping on the couch, and  smiles.

I hope she's okay, she thinks.

Calmly, she closes the door behind them and follows Ben to the limousine.

"Nice digs," Cole whistles as she crawls inside the car.

Ben smoothes the creases off of the leather black seat cushions. He nods to his friend as he shuts the door across from him and buckles his seatbelt. Cole repeated his movements.

"Are you two comfortable back there?" asked a British voice.

Cole and Ben looked up to see a well-mannered driver, wearing premium black clothes, and a cheerful grin. The chauffeur had gray blue eyes, thin wrinkles under her eyes, and a golden ring on his right finger.

"No, we're fine." Ben insists.

The driver shrugs his shoulders and starts to drive the limo. Meanwhile, Cole leans against Ben's chest and stares at the deep crimson floor.

"You okay?" Ben asks.

She nodded and closes her eyes shut.

Cole feels her hair brushing away from her right ear and listens to the sound of Ben's gentle whisper.

"What did you find out in the hospital?" he asks.

"Before Mr. Randall died," Cole murmured. "He has suffered a bruised lung and shattered ribs."

"Is it because of the rigorous training?" He guessed.

She lifts her shoulder up and down then shook her head.

"I have no idea," Cole replies.

"Maybe at the party, we could talk to Colonel Jones."

"And tell them how we received a classified file?" Ben laughed bitterly.

"Well, at least it's something." Cole says defensively.

"Irene," he began, stroking her hair. "We need to find a different strategy."

A thought came into her head.

"I have an idea," she says. "But I have to warm you, it's kind of devious."

"It's my favorite type of planning."