2007-07-09: Get Carter: Epilogue



Guest Starring: Those on the other side of John Carter's phone…

Summary: A few of the instigators are closer to home than people expect.

Date It Happened: July 9, 2007

Get Carter: Epilogue

Somewhere South of Syracuse, New York

July 9th.
2:00 pm.

Clean up was well underway, and a tall, broad-shouldered figure looks down impassively at the dead body lying on his feet. John Carter's body was already starting to show signs of rigor, the body stiff when one of the doctors he had brought had rolled him over to check his liver temperature. Thank goodness the site he picked was deep within a remote area, otherwise people would be a little more concerned about calling in the emergency numbers of New York State to look into this.

"I think we're ready to roll him away," the doctor says, looking up at him from where he's crouched. Rubber gloves are snapped off his hands, and he waves for two other men poking through the rubble to come over with the gurney on standby.

"Wait." The broad-shouldered man crouches low, and searches the body, plucking out the cellphone left on Carter's body. He smirks. "At least the big damned heroes didn't think of looting the body before leaving," he murmurs, standing up and pocketing it. He brings out his own. "I need to make a phone call. Got everything here, Cindair?"

"Leave it to me, Brett," the doctor murmurs, standing up and dusting off his hands.

Brett turns around, walking several feet away and starts dialing. He waits for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Is it done?"

"It is," Brett says, surveying the area. "We're hauling his body off right now. When he said he wanted to go out with a bang, he certainly wasn't kidding."

"It was a risk," the smooth, polished voice on the other end states. "The treatment didn't take, and the side effects were grievous. It was mutating his leukemia, as opposed to curing it. His mind would've been gone in a year. It was already starting to go, given how obsessed he became over Ramon Gomez."

"Mmm. And the product?"

"You can let her go for now," returns the silken tone. "You know how much your brother would be very upset if she managed to disappear before their trip to Spain together. In fact, let them -all- go for now. I think the unstable one is still alive, according to Dr. Cindair."

Brett grunts. "Fine. Any word as to -which one- we're really after?"

"Our people are working on it. The Morris children turned out to be a bust, but they're special in their own right. If you know what I mean."

"Alright. I better finish this."

"And Brett?"


"I'm very proud of you."

Brett smirks. "I'll see you when I get back."

Somewhere in New York City

A slender hand hangs up the black phone, tucking it carefully in her purse. Smoothing back her red hair, she picks up the Wall Street Journal and unfolds it, looking at the latest headlines.

It’s only a few moments before a shadow falls across her Journal. The shadow is followed by the sound of a yawn and the figure of a young clean cut man with dark sleep-ruffled hair and rings under his eyes. He runs a hand though his hair, his clothes neat and pressed even though he looks like he had a very long night last night.

"Afternoon…” He murmurs towards the woman before he glances around, looking around the small nook of a room they are in for something to eat.

The woman frowns slightly, a touch of concern coming to her eyes, though her tone is one of slight disapproval. "…you look terrible dear, what happened? Stay out too late once again?" She sets aside the paper before turning the full attention of her gaze towards the young man.

"Something like that, was visiting a…" He pauses, the hesitation obvious. "…friend…that had a worse time than I did."

A slight sigh escapes the woman. "…darling. You need to worry more about yourself, did you come here to see your father?"

"Yes, Dad in his office?"

"Yes yes he is, go ahead and see him, he is so happy that you have taken an interest in business you know." Her smile is fond and brilliant as she stands. "Go on now, go see him…he's waiting for you."

"Alright mom alright, I'm going…talk to you later alright?"

"Of course!" And Vidalia Lancaster leans forwards to give her son a playful peck on the cheek before pushing him in the direction of the study. The young man turns to leave, a happy smile on his face. Content, happy to be home, happy to be back in one place he does feel safe in this city.

What he doesn’t see is the predatory gaze that slips onto the woman's face as he leaves. Hard, vicious, all ice and calculation and none of the cheerful concern for a moment ago. Her gaze burns into a point between Eric Walker's shoulder blades as he walks out of the room.

Then the woman slowly smiles, its a frightening sort of smile, the kind that sends chills through most people that see it.

"Yes Eric, you just let Mother take care of everything."


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License