Because I like thinking of random situations and then making others have to deal with it.
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Mason let out a frustrated growl and dragged his hands through his hair. A ghost, that was what he was trying to catch and for weeks now he'd failed to catch it. Resting his hands on his head, he stared at the computer screen and the coded language that felt as easy to read as a book but far more interesting. In the story, he saw someone daring and cunning but elusive.
If it hadn't been his job to find this hacker, Mason would have admired him or her.
But no, he had to find this ghost.
With another frustrated breath, Mason glanced at the time and realized how late it was. He looked to the windows and saw the storm lashing about outside. Mason rubbed his eyes, blinked the fatigue from them, and proceeded to do his routine shut down.
Once finished, he stood, pulled his suit jacket off the back of his chair, and left his office. The building lay predominately silent, only a few other agents putting in the late hours. At the elevators, Mason stretched and rolled his neck. He needed sleep. He needed food. He needed to figure out the solution to his problem.
"What are you doing here so late?" Carter asked, joining him.
"I steal supplies from the storage room at night," Mason answered without looking at her.
"Still haven't caught your ghost?"
"Still obnoxious as ever?"
"Only when in the presence of failure."
"How do you stand your own existence then?"
"I avoid mirrors."
"Why? Because they crack when you look in them?"
"No, I often find you looking into them."
The elevator doors dinged and opened. The pair stepped on, claiming opposite sides. Mason leaned against the wall, tired from the endless hours of sitting and staring at a screen. He needed to work out. He needed to push his muscles to trigger the ones in his brain. He glanced at his watch. Maybe he could fit in a workout after he ate something.
"Only a man wearing a Rolex would steal supplies from the storage room," Carter said.
"How do you think I got the Rolex? Printer ink is in high demand on the black market."
Carter chuckled softly and Mason eyed her suspiciously. She scowled and shook her head.
"It's late and I've been up for twenty-eight hours," she said.
Mason nodded. That made more sense.
The elevator jerked to a halt and Mason stumbled, colliding with the wall. He swore and clutched his head as he righted himself. He looked around and found that the main lights were off and only the dim emergency lights remained on. Carter climbed to her feet and pressed the emergency call button.
Only static answered.
Mason gripped the handrail.
Only static, which meant that it was still working just someone had stepped away for a second. That was fine. The call system still worked. It was fine.
"Must be because of the storm," she murmured. "I heard blackouts have been happening all over the city."
Mason heard this but only in a distant way, a strange rushing noise blocking his ears. He leaned against the elevator. He was completely at ease. Being trapped in an elevator was not a big deal. It happened from time to time. It would be handled soon. He was fine. His heart rate only picked up because he'd been startled that was all.
The walls around him were still the same distance apart. They were not moving closer. They were not shrinking in on him. He was fine.
Carter raised her pant leg and pulled out a blade, flicking it open.
"They will know who did it if they watch the security cameras," Mason said.
His voice was not shaky, it sounded as it always did. Completely calm and in control.
Carter glanced at him and then back at the elevator doors. She stuck the edge of the blade into the seam and created a tiny gap in which she fit her fingers. She didn't need Mason's help, she was capable of doing it on her own. If she asked for help he could easily let go of the handrail and help her. He could. He could easily let go. He only held on because he felt a little unstable from hitting his head. But he didn't need it, not really. Not at all.
Carter managed to open the doors but only a slab of wall and barely a foot of the doorway to the next floor was visible. Made sense the probability of stopping between floors was equal and so they'd had a fifty-fifty chance of being able to get out. But they couldn't and Mason wasn't concerned about that. Not at all.
The elevator would be fixed in a few minutes and it would be fine. He was fine. Completely fine. The true horror of it all was having to be stuck in an enclosed space with Owens for longer than necessary. That was what unsettled Mason. That was why his heart would stop beating so frantically.
Owens was unstable and unstable people were dangerous to be around. He hoped she remained calm and didn't start panicking, that would not end well. Especially since she had a knife. He needed to remain calm... She needed to remain calm.
"No getting out that way," Carter said, evenly.
The speaker crackled. "Whoever is in the elevator, we know you are there. We are trying to get the system back online. Be patient."
Carter pressed the call button. "Okay."
Then as easily as if it were her home, Carter set her satchel on the ground and dropped down. She rested her head on her pack and closed her eyes. She seemed completely unperturbed.
Mason found this a good sign. Again he didn't want her panicking. He didn't know how he'd handle it if she started breathing too hard, clutching something, and sweating. He wouldn't know how to calm her down. She would be impossible to talk to.
"You know," Carter said. "Of all the people I get stuck in an elevator with you are about the worst option."
"You should see this from my viewpoint, you're unstable and are carrying a knife."
"You can't forget the handgun as well," Carter said.
"Thank you. That's what I needed to know, a second way you could kill me."
"At least one is faster than the other. Do you know how exhausting it would be to stab you to death?"
"I can imagine someone with your violent nature would find it therapeutic."
"Oh, how lowly you think of me. Only wish it was lower than you'd realize I'm too lazy to put the work in to deal with your body. Also, I hear prison food sucks."
"And there'd be no way for you to get away with it."
"Exactly, at least give me the credit of having some intelligence to know the results."
"I still think you're crazy enough to do it," Mason said, crossing his arms.
Despite the insult, Carter smiled at him. Mason frowned, thrown by the action.
"What?" he asked.
"I got you to let go of that handrail," she said.
When she closed her eyes and dropped her head back, Mason looked down at his arms. He had let go, he'd down it unconsciously. And his heart rate. It didn't feel like it was going at a million miles an hour anymore.
But that was not due to Owens.
Mason simply had lost the dizziness in his head and that was why his body felt calmer. And as he'd said before the walls were metal and couldn't contract on their own and so they couldn't shrink. It had nothing to do with Owens.
"You know you're not actually claustrophobic," Carter said, with her eyes still closed.
"Of course," Mason said. "Because I'm not claustrophobic at all."
"What you feel only has the symptoms of that phobia," Carter said. "What you fear is a lack of control."
Mason said nothing. Because Owens was insane and largely wrong a majority of the time.
"This feeling comes from your past," Carter said simply. "I would say in the days of being the First Son. An incident with being surrounded by, trapped in a place where you couldn't escape from."
Mason froze. She couldn't know that. She couldn't know of the time he'd been in the backseat of one of the White House cars. Couldn't know about how he'd been on his way to school and protesters and crowded the car. The yells. The banging on the windows. The dozens of faces pressing in. The complete helplessness he felt because he could do nothing but wait for the Secret Service to clear a path.
"Knowing that what you fear is a lack of control then you can figure out how to handle it," Carter said. "You analyze what you have control over and what you don't. Right now you have no control to make the elevator work. But you do have the control to breathe."
Despite himself, Mason took in a slow breath and felt as it helped him relax.
"You can remind yourself that you aren't alone," Carter continued in a strange soothing tone.
Mason watched her and found he didn't mind as much that Owens was stuck with him. The knife was out of sight, naturally that was why he felt more relaxed.
"You can use your brain to figure out other options of getting out of the situation," Carter said. "And this will help."
Mason didn't think of any way to escape, instead he stared at the relaxed girl on the elevator floor.
"How did you do that?" he asked.
Carter rested one arm behind her head. "In Quantico, they taught us how to handle fear. The key was finding the source of the fear. A lot of times it wasn't what it first appeared to be. There's a core fear in most people. Once that is identified then you can work to counteract it."
"What was your core fear?" Mason asked.
For a long moment, Carter didn't say anything then finally she took in a breath and let it out.
"Abandonment."
Before Mason could respond, she hopped to her feet and clapped her hands.
"Okay," she said. "It's been fifteen minutes. I'm hungry and want to go home. So I'm getting us out of her. Lace your fingers together."
Mason did as instructed. He wasn't dumb enough to argue with a girl wearing a determined expression like she was. After slinging her bag over her head, Carter stepped into his hands and placed her other foot on the railing. Using her knife, she pried open the service hatch.
She hoisted herself through. She popped her head back in and stretched out her hand. Mason reached for it and used the railing to help leverage himself up. As he pulled himself through, Carter helped him, grabbing his belt and hauling him up.
Together, they gripped either side of the doors and opened them. Carter held one end as Mason climbed through and he did the same for her.
"There," she said. "Now we can go home."
They had stopped at the server floor and the place lay empty of occupants beside a lone janitor and his cleaning cart. In silence, they walked towards the stairway.
"You know," Mason said. "I'm never going to admit this again, but what you did in the elevator. The way you knew of my past... Well, I was mildly impressed."
"Don't be," Carter said. "I read your psych evaluation. You told that story to the therapist."
"Why would you read that?" Mason said, angrily.
"Because I wanted to see if you were insane. Apparently you aren't. You're actually very rational."
"I know I am."
Carter shrugged like she'd doubted this for a long while. As Mason grabbed the handle to the stairway, Carter put a hand on his arm. He looked at it then at her.
"Don't leave me?" she asked.
All Mason wanted to do was leave this building and this girl who thought he might be insane and sleep for a whole day. But something in her voice and the admittance she shared in the elevator made him curb that desire.
"Keep talking to me," she said, heading away from the stairs.
"Why must I keep talking to you?" he said. "You're one of the most irritating people I've ever met. I'd rather eat my own foot than continue talking to you."
"Please like there's anyone in your life that you actually enjoy talking to more than me. Your life would be dull without me."
Mason didn't know where Carter was taking them but figured she had a reason. Against what he thought of her the majority of the time, she did have a good head on her shoulders. But he'd never tell her that.
"I can honestly think of five people far more interesting to talk to you than you," Mason said.
"I highly doubt that. I highly doubt you even have five friends."
She opened the door to the main server room and headed inside.
"I mean real friends," Carter said, still insulting him. "Not the people you pay to hang out with you. Let's face it that's just pathetic. Oh, don't mind us. Idiot here forgot something."
Only when Carter stopped talking to Mason did he realize someone else was in the server room. A janitor with a cleaning cart beside him.
"Mason," Carter said, steering her way through the rooms of data banks. "The next time that you decide to forget something can you please just deal with it on your own. I know it's a dark and stormy night but seriously you can't always be afraid of the dark. You have to grow up sometime. Oh, by the way, you should put your hands up. You're under arrest."
Mason stopped short when Carter casually pulled her gun out of her shoulder holster and aimed it at the janitor. The man looked to be in his early thirties and well-built. He slowly shifted.
"And don't try to reach for the gun in the cleaning cart," Carter said.
The man stopped and Carter closed the final gap between them.
Mason stared, still not comprehending. This he decided to blame on the fact that Carter didn't ever make sense so why would this situation make sense now?
Carter snagged the man's wrist and forced it behind him. Stowing her weapon, she grabbed his other wrist and bound them together with a set of zip ties. Where those came from Mason wasn't even going to question. Again this was Owens and she didn't make sense.
"Mind telling me why you are arresting the janitor?" Mason asked.
Carter stared at him like he was stupid, which he didn't appreciate, they shared the same IQ. He'd checked.
Still holding onto the arm of the janitor, Carter removed an electric device from the cleaning cart and held it up. Instantly, Mason understood. He knew what that was and he knew the damage it could cause to a building's electricity. Mason didn't even question how Owens had known or what had tipped her off. Another thing he'd never admit, she was good at her job.
And she'd just helped him with his.
Before he could even say it, Carter said it for him.
"This is the reason for the power outage," Carter said. "And this, I believe is your ghost."
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Hello there my squiggly squid!🐙
(It's a compliment, who doesn't want to have numerous limbs in which you're able to flap about and dance with. You're your own party!)
Hear ye hear ye! My name is Samuel Seabrie and I am here to hear your thoughts that should be heard! 💭💬🗯
I will admit, this chapter is shorter than I would like. But it was written within a day because sometimes if I let them span over two writing sessions then I lose interest. Or sometimes my attention is focused on my other main book and I hate taking longer on one shots because I know I need to write the other book.
But because I like giving you one shots, you like me giving you one shots and I like that you like that I like giving you one shots then it always makes it worth it!
With that befuddling tongue twister said/written (I won't even attempt to say it out loud because I'd sound like an idiot. True, an idiot only to myself since one on is around but really if you are an idiot to yourself isn't that the saddest idiot to be? It means that your idiocy is true idiocy because it comes from a place of true self reflection... I don't know if that just made me sound like an idiot. Better for you to think it than me to acknowledge it)
Are you still with me or has your brain fallen out yet?
If so, follow directions:
Pick up brain, shove up nose, shake head, and you're good to go.
Now that I have thoroughly made you regret reading this author's note...
Vote, comment, follow!
It's cute because they are the same just like Carter and Mason