Epilogue: Shaw

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A/N: This used to be Interlude Part III, but now serves as an Epilogue to Series 1 of the story.

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     For some reason, Everett Shaw couldn't go back to sleep. He had tried for an hour now, fooled that his yawning put him in the precipice of slumber. However, it didn't come.

     At the side of his bed, the clock read three-thirty in the morning. Too soon. Too early. Shaw grumbled. Defeated, he kicked the covers off of him and got off the bed. 

     Naked, he crossed the vast open space between his bed and the balcony doors in staggered steps, in the middle of wanting to stay buried in his sheets and getting some fresh air. Maybe that would do. Hoping. Needing it. Craving it.

     He opened the balcony door, welcoming the cool yet humid Southern California air rushing in. Shaw smiled.

     While most of the country huddled around their fires and inside their homes, trying to keep the coldest winter in the 21st century at bay, Everett Shaw was enjoying the warm winds and weather of Southern California.

     He stretched his muscles while awning at the same time.

     Stretching around him was the placidity and calm of the vineyard located a few miles north of Santa Barbara. The Matheui Vineyard belonged to his uncle from his mother's side, and while his uncle and his fourth and younger new wife (who looked nineteen against his sixty) vacationed in Micronesia for their first anniversary. 

     Shaw decided to use the wasted space of the villa for a much-needed vacation. A little R&R away from the blizzard that bombarded the entire city of Chicago. He grew tired of looking at the blanket of white outside his window. When he came to think of it, he couldn't remember the last time he had a vacation.

     Shaw stared at the stillness of the night, resting in an armchair and procured a cigarette out of the drawer on the end table beside it. He gazed out again, puffing smokes in unbroken circles to pass the time while the bright moonlight of a full moon illuminated the vineyards, fields, and hills around the villa. Clear skies. Stars twinkled delightfully in a dance of silent waltz. Peaceful. Quiet.

     His mind desperately wanted him to peek through the unopened files and reports on his computer and in his briefcase. But he resisted the temptation. Work had to wait for the next couple of days. He needed the time to clear his mind.

     Shaw relaxed. Breathed in the fresh air. Exhaled.

     He thought of sleep.

     And if it had stretched for a couple of minutes later, he would've gone deep under.

     Alas, for a man of position and cachet as Everett Shaw, the universe was less kind to what he wished and wanted.

     The engine of a BMW fired beyond the hills, still hidden in the darkness. Though, it managed to wake the birds from the trees, their fleeting shadows stark against the silver moon.

     A black BMW crested the long hill from afar, approaching the villa. Shaw recognized the car. It belonged to Klytus Boone. His bodyguard. It cruised well above the posted limit. He was in a hurry.

     Shaw's heart began to hammer. Now, he was wide awake. He didn't think sleep would ever come back to him for this night. He stabbed the butt of his cigarette on the ashtray and proceeded to pick up his bathrobe from his closet and put it on.

     Klytus lived on the bungalow estate not far from the main villa. Whatever news he got, it must be vital for him to drive in the middle of the night.

     Shaw rushed down the stairs to the foyer. Lights switched on as the sensors picked him up. Shaw opened the front doors, and there stood Klytus, climbing up the porch steps.

     Klytus was a big man. Six-feet-three. Muscular with a narrow waist and broad shoulders. Shaw would sometimes call him Johnny Bravo due to the man always wearing a black tee shirt. His hair was thick and dark brown, and an almost matching light brown eyes. His arms and hands looked crushingly strong as he approached, and clasped onto one was a piece of paper.

     "There's been an emergency, sir," Klytus said glumly. There was a rough magnetic timbre to his voice that would surely intimidate Shaw if it wasn't for that Shaw was his boss. 

     Klytus handed him the piece of paper.

     "Can't it wait tomorrow?"

     "This is urgent, sir. It came from Chicago. They only contacted me five minutes ago. There's been an incident," he said.

     Incident? That got Shaw curious. He picked up the piece of paper. It was a set of coordinates. He knew exactly where it was.

     "This is Gideon Reese's facility in Pennsylvania," said Shaw.

     "We lost contact with our informant eight hours ago. But before he went offline, he sent a message. Apparently, there's been a breach in the facility. Multiple dead and wounded. We haven't heard from them since."

     Multiple dead?

     Missing?

     A breach?

     Suddenly, it bombarded Shaw like a violent storm in an ocean. It took him back, dazed and stunned.

     "Wait, is Reese okay?"

     "We don't know, sir. The Chicago and New York branch tried hailing the facility, but no one answered. It seemed the facility's systems had been compromised by a foreign entity."

     "Is it still ongoing?"

     "Fortunately, the quarantine was lifted. It seemed someone in the facility is still alive. But their communications remained crippled."

     "Alright. Before we come to any conclusions, I want this hushed off. No one leaks this out. This is Gideon Reese we're talking about," Shaw groaned, going back into the foyer.

     Klytus frowned. "There's already a team prepared to investigate the facility in New York. They'll be in the compound within three hours."

     Shaw froze. He shook his head. "No. Delay that. If the quarantine is lifted, there's no need to investigate. It's Gideon Reese's jurisdiction. It must be nothing. If there are people dead, then it's his fault. I don't want to be involved in that," he said, irritated.

     Klytus frowned, "There's more, sir."

     "What?" Shaw spat, increasingly annoyed. He really wanted to go back to bed.

     "The report our informant sent. There's more to it."

     "Well, spit it out, man. Its late and I have no patience for Reese's fuck-ups, expecting me to fix it whatsoever like a damn dog," Shaw glowered.

     "Well, sir, he reported that they were hunting for a lone Android."

     Shaw narrowed his eyes at him. "An Android, you say?"

     "Yes. An AD-Class 700. It seemed it was the cause of the massacre there."

     Shaw gulped. "How long can a helicopter pick me up here?"

     "Uh--three hours?"

     "Make it in less than one. Prep my things. We're going to Pennsylvania."

     "Yes, sir."

     "How many men can you muster in a short time?"

     "Two dozen. Maybe more? Can't say how short of a time we're talking about, sir."

     "Well, as many as you can, Klytus."

     "There's around three hundred in the New York SynTech factory, sir. Are we expecting some kind of fight?"

     Shaw nodded. "Yes. Bring them. Bring all of them."

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