2007-03-26: Hostage Situation

Starring:

Kellie_icon.gif Mohinder_icon.gif Molly_icon.gif Sylar_icon.gif

Summary: Kellie and Sylar work on getting what they want.

Date It Happened: March 26, 2007

Log Title Hostage Situation


Sylar's Stolen Apartment

One of the bedrooms in the apartment Sylar has inhabited for the last few weeks has been turned into a makeshift cell. The bed has been shoved against the far wall, and two of the remaining dining room chairs have been set inside, to which Mohinder and Molly are bound, each to their own chair. (Just in case you were wondering.) Rope has been wound around the wrists, chest, ankle, and thighs, securing them in such a way that it would be difficult, to say the least, for them to escape and still evade notice.

Seated on the bed, her chin resting in her hands as she keeps a steady gaze on the captives, Kellie looks about as exasperated and bored as is possible. Her battered face has been cleaned up, but there's no hiding the bruising or swelling, not that it bothers her much. "You guys are so /boring./"

"So terribly sorry. I don't make a habit of dancing or singing." is the sarcastic reply from Mohinder. He's not sure /what/ Kellie's looking for in the way of entertainment. "Not that I'm in a position to do such a thing even if I were." He's trying to project as much outward calm as possible for Molly's sake. It wouldn't do to have her see him panic. Keeping his face towards Kellie, he studies her, in between covert glances in Molly's direction.

The door to the room opens, but on the other side is nothing. A few seconds later, a makeshift cart comes through the door with Sylar following, pushing the cart forward with one hand. It contains most of what was stolen from the lab. A laptop, some syringes, some files. Basically everything the doctor needs, hopefully. In Sylar's other hand is his gun, which he raises and points at the hostages, even if they're really unable to do anything. "Time for work, doctor," he says to Mohinder, nodding his head to indicate the cart in front of him. "Kellie's going to untie you. Any sudden moves, and…" He smiles. "Well." He moves his hand and points the gun directly at Molly, motioning with it as if he was shooting her. "Bang."

Tied to the chair, there's not much Molly can do. For awhile, her breathing came in quick gasps of fear, but now that she's gotten as used to this situation as she ever will, it's regained it's gone mostly back to normal. Except for when Sylar comes back into the room and gestures at her with the gun. Gasping back a hiccuping sob, she pointedly turns her face away from the door and the cart and closes her eyes. Think of Matt. Think of Hiro. Someone will come and save them. But it's hard to concentrate when she's so fearful.

"Oh, come /on./" Unimpressed by Mohinder's sass, Kellie heaves a dramatic sigh, throwing her hands town onto the bed to push herself up to her feet. "You should be begging me to let you go, or trying to reason with me, or appealing to the good human nature you know is lurking deep down inside," she laments, her tone mockingly frustrated. She's rescued by the door opening, and she looks to Sylar with a mischievous smirk. "Well, well." Her voice adopts a very sing-song quality as she circles around to the back of Mohinder's chair, trailing her fingers through the doctor's hair as she moves. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she croons to Sylar, glancing up to him as her nails dig into Mohinder's scalp for a split second. "Or evening, by now." Pulling her hand away from Mohinder's hair, Kellie crouches down behind him, beginning to work at the knots holding the ropes in place.

Mohinder's brows raise in mock surprise at Kellie. "Why should I? You're with Sylar and based on what I've read.. begging and reasoning will fall upon deaf ears." Yes, he's afraid of Kellie and Sylar, and he's trying to not show it. Again, keep up the brave front for Molly. Even as Kellie trails her fingers through his hair, he gives her no reaction. That's what she wants isn't it? Although, the nails digging? That garners a wince, even if he should have seen it coming. A smooth expression of open distaste is given at Sylar as he threatens Molly. "If you shoot her, you might as well shoot me next as I'll do nothing for you."

Kellie gets nothing more than a glance from Sylar, and his attention is then quickly turned back on the hostages. He is not a sleepyhead. ".. Oh?" Sylar responds to the doctor, his smile growing wider. "If that's the case…" As Kellie begins to untie Mohinder, Sylar steps over to Molly, placing a hand on the top of her head. "Molly, sweetie? Why don't you ask uncle Mohinder here to do what I want him to? After all, I don't want to have to hurt you. Or him. Or your other… nanny. Because if I don't get what I want, I will. I'll start with Mohinder. I'll make him suffer, right in front of you. After that, I'll make the other one suffer. After /that/, I'll make you suffer. Either way, I'm going to get what I want. So why don't you let him know that, mmkay?"

With her eyes closed, things seem much less scary. Molly takes deep breaths and tries to get her fear under control. She wants to show Mohinder that she's brave and that he doesn't have to worry about her. It's hard, of course. Because she knows that every second they stay in that apartment with them they're in danger. She's a kid, but she's not an idiot. Sylar approaches and she doesn't open them. However, the moment he puts a hand on top of her head, her eyes fly open and she jerks to try and get away from him. She doesn't want him touching her. "You just told him," she says, her voice wavering but defiant.

"We never said we'd kill her, doctor," Kellie replies, lulling her voice into a whisper as she speaks, leaning until her mouth is only an inch from his ear. "One good hole in the leg, and she'll cry for weeks. Maybe never even walk again." With one hand gripping the ropes tightly, the other traces a faint line over his shoulder, towards his neck. It could almost be a caress, if only it weren't for the spark that leaps from her fingers to his skin. Her lips twitch in a smirk, and she frees his ankles first, then his legs. His hands will be last, but she doesn't get there before Molly speaks. "Sweetheart," she chimes, her voice fraught with a saccharine kindness, "I don't think you understand." She slides her hand up over Mohinder's collar bone until it settles onto his neck, her fingers closing around it tightly, the heat of her skin an unspoken threat. "When Sylar asks you to do something, you do it. Do what he says and I won't burn a hole right through Daddy's windpipe."

Mohinder bristles and his shoulders tense up the moment Sylar places a hand on his charge. "Hands. Off. Her." he says tersely, a look of anger darkening his eyes. "Molly, ignore him." Easier said than done, yes. He jerks his head away from Kellie's hand when that spark leaps. Beyond that, no other motion is made. He's not a moron. "You both have made your point. She doesn't need to repeat what's already been said." Okay, not an entire moron, as he still has some sass in him. "Playing games will only make this take longer."

"If that's the case," Sylar says, stepping away from Molly and towards Mohinder, the rage in him begin to bubble over the surface, "then get to work. I don't have any more time for games than you do, doctor." The killer looks up at Kellie, then back down at Molly, before finally stepping back over to the cart. He pushes it towards Mohinder, stopping it right in front of the doctor's chair, and then motions to Molly with his gun. "She's going to go with Kellie in the other room," he says, "so you and I will have peace and quiet."

"Don't! Stop it!" Molly cries when Kellie grabs Mohinder's throat, jerks forward to try and get to Mohinder. But, of course, the ropes binding her cut that movement quite short. The chair rocks slightly from the force. "Please!" Her bravery and guff only go so far.

The heat in her hand flares as Mohinder defies them again, and Kellie growls deep in her throat, her hand squeezing tighter around his throat. Still, she releases his neck aggressively, untying the last few knots without her earlier laissez-faire pace. As she rises to her feet once more, she bumps his chair with a hip, urging him to his feet. "Come on, kiddo," she chirps delightedly to Molly, taking hold of the back of Molly's chair and yanking it backwards harshly, tipping it to a forty-five degree angle. "Let's go have a tea party." The chair legs drag across the floor behind Kellie as she pulls Molly along behind her on her way to the living room.

"Molly! Chinta mat karo." Mohinder's eyes shift to look towards the girl. "I want Molly to stay in my sights. The visual confirmation will keep my mind at ease.. and you wouldn't want me distracted. I might make a mistake with the dosage." Mohinder's tone remains cool, as he looks up at Sylar, an almost arrogant expression on the geneticist's face. Again, he does his best to not give Kellie any sort of reaction. Which is difficult what with the heat, the hand on his throat and rough treatment. Once he's freed and Kellie starts dragging Molly room the room, he leaps to his feet. A vial containing one of the things he needs to put Sylar's dosage together is grabbed and he holds it as if ready to throw the glass. "I want her in my sight!"

As Kellie begins to drag Molly away on her chair, Sylar raises his gun and points it directly at Mohinder, pressing the barrel of the gun against the man's head. "I really wouldn't do that," the serial killer informs him, pressing the gun a bit harder into Suresh's head. "Don't worry. I'll leave the door open. But any mistakes, /any/ mistakes at all, and Molly will suffer. Just like Kellie said. I would be very careful, doctor. Unless you want to live with that the rest of your life. Now. Are you ready to run your tests?"

"Mohinder!" There's no way for Molly to stop Kellie from dragging her away from him, but she wants to stay as close as possible. That's what's making her feel safe. And she definitely doesn't /want/ to be alone with Kellie. She burns things. And scares her. "Don't!" she calls out to Sylar, but there are very limited options for her. She's just a chip to be bargained with. And she doesn't like it.

Whirling around sharply at Mohinder's act of defiance, dropping the chair back to all four feet harshly, Kellie lays both hands on Molly's face. One is tangled in her hair, the other gripping the girl's chin tightly. Her touch is warm, almost painfully so, and the glower she fixes on Mohinder is nothing short of deadly. "Remember what I told your girl about doing what Sylar says, Suresh," calls the pyrokinetic, all of the playfulness gone from her tone. "Little Molly's such a pretty little girl, I'd hate to have to sear her face until it's so badly scarred that no one will ever want to play with her at school."

Mohinder stands motionless, like in a game of statues as the gun is pressed against his head. His eyes close briefly as he keeps that tentative grip on his calm. "Molly.. it will be alright," he says, although it's not very believable. Owing to the gun pressed to his head. Slowly, to show he's not going to be smashing things, he brings his hand back around to set the vial down on the cart. "As soon as you take the gun away from my head. Yes. You've made your point. Both of you." Once the gun is retracted, he'll sit back down and get to work. As it stands, he gazes solidly at Molly, then just loud enough to carry, he starts singing the lullabye he uses when she's having a nightmare.

"Good," Sylar says to Mohinder, removing the gun from his forehead. "I didn't want to have to shoot and wake the neighbors, anyway." Sylar keeps a firm grip on the gun, but lowers it to his side. He pulls up the chair Mohinder was just sitting in, and takes a seat, casting a glance back to Kellie and Molly. "Well, doctor," he says, holding his hands out at either side (still keeping the gun in his right, of course) as he turns back to look up to the doctor, "what now? You're the geneticist."

Molly squeezes her eyes closed when Kellie's hands roughly pull on her hair and heats her hands. Whimpering, she does her best to not start crying again. She wants to believe Mohinder, but things look so hopeless right now. When she hears Mohinder start to sing the lullabye, her eyes fly open again. And she even manages to give him a strained smile despite their situation. She knows this song. And once again, she's hopeful that they'll get out of here.

"You keep saying that, doctor," Kellie says, slowly drawing her hands away from Molly's face and taking a step away, "and I just keep hearing lies, lies, lies. You wouldn't be defying us if we'd made our point." Still, she turns her back to Molly (and the bedroom, consequently), heading towards the kitchen with a languorous pace. Every few steps, she flicks her fingers out from her thumb, sparks dancing through the air until they die out. When she reaches the kitchen, a cookie jar from the counter is snatched up and cradled in one arm. "Cookie, darling?" Pulling the top from the jar, she offers it out to Molly before taking one for herself. …mixed messages much?

Mohinder powers up the laptop and works on pulling on the gloves he snagged. Old habits, even if he doesn't care if Sylar gets some infection. He ignores Sylar and continues with the lullabye until Molly's gone from the room. Even with the door open, Suresh does not like this arrangement, but there's little choice in the matter. "Roll up your sleeve," he instructs to Sylar without looking at him. A rubber tube is picked up in both hands and stretched taut to give a snapping sound. His head is tilted up and back some as he finally looks in Sylar's direction. It's not a very pleasant expression on the doctor's face. A mix of distaste, loathing, and a little bit of 'I'm going to make this hurt and enjoy it'.

Sylar does as instructed, using the hand with the gun to roll up the sleeve of the other arm. It takes him a moment, considering there's a gun in the way, but he manages to get it done. Once the sleeve is up, he relaxes somewhat in the chair, resting the gun on his thigh, but still keeping it pointed in the general direction of the doctor. "Sometime soon, doctor," he says, looking up at the man. "The sooner, the better."

Now that Mohinder and Sylar are doing their medical thing, Molly watches Kellie. Much how a rabbit may watch a predator who's circling in for the kill - she's cautious and scared. The last thing she's expecting, though, is to be offered a cookie. She's almost wondering what's wrong with it. As if afraid of what will happen if she /doesn't/ take the cookie, she reaches out the short distance she can with her arms still tied.

Kellie is strangely accomodating, when it comes to cookies, and she tips the jar far enough that Molly can grab one of them as they tumble forward, towards the opening. "I didn't make them," she admits, shrugging helplessly. "But I got them from a good bakery." Drawing the last of the dining room chairs (since she destroyed the fourth) alongside Molly, Kellie settles herself down, the cookie jar placed on the floor. She watches in silence as Mohinder prepares to draw blood from Sylar's arm, her gaze transfixed on the doctor. If he steps out of line, she is poised and ready to react. Still, she says quietly, likely only loud enough for Molly to hear, "I wish I had popcorn."

Mohinder is not gentle at all as he ties the tubing around Sylar's bicep. He's even rough with wiping an alcohol pad against the inside of the madman's elbow. That done, he jabs the needle into Sylar's arm with more force than necessary. All the while, he maintains that look of cool distaste. Quite possibly, he's drawing more blood than needed. Not that he's telling Sylar. That will take the fun out of the little discomfort Suresh can dish back out. "I'm still missing one item I need to make this," he says when he finally finishes and withdraws the needle. "Should your strain be one I can cure. I won't know until I'm done looking at this," he says as he raises the syringe filled with Sylar's blood.

Sylar takes the majority of Mohinder's roughing him up with a straight face, that is until he sticks him with the needle. Sylar jumps a bit when the needle jabs into his arm, and gives the doctor an annoyed look. He can still take out one of the doctor's legs, and force the doctor to work /that/ way, too, if need be. "What item is that?" Sylar says, taking a quick glance out towards Kellie and Molly, before looking back at Mohinder. "If you need it, we can get it. I think we've proven that, taking you and your precious girl. In fact, if it's something you /might/ need, we'll get it anyway. What is it?"

The kindness that Kellie shows her is quite confusing. Molly munches on her cookie in a worried sort of manner. She's not at all hungry with her stomach twisted up into knots like it is. She's not really sure what to say to her captor, so she just slowly chews and watches Mohinder and Sylar.

Mohinder pays no mind to Sylar's look of annoyance. The geneticist is annoyed enough with his own situation. "Based on what I could see from fragments of your clothes and the dried blood taken from police evidence, the cure based around my blood's antibodies isn't enough." He sets to work on studying this fresh sample best he can with the equipment he was able to have swiped. "It is my belief that we'll need.." He pauses, hesitant to say the name, even if Sylar probably knows this already. "Some of Claire Bennett's blood. Good luck getting it. I don't think that she'll be eager to donate to this particular cause."

"I know a way." Kellie sets the cookie jar down on the coffee table, forgotten. In the next instant, she grabs the back of Molly's chair and spins her around, crouching down in front of the girl to be eye to eye. "You're going to earn your keep now, little girl," she says, her voice taking on a newly malicious tone, both of her hands closing over Molly's wrists. "I'm going to go get you an atlas, and when I ask you to find someone for me, you will. If you refuse, I will burn every hair off of Daddy's head. If you refuse again, I'll take his eyes, one at a time." She pauses then, canting her head to one side with a smile that is strangely sweet. "So don't refuse."

She rises to her feet, turning her back to the girl as she fetches the atlas from the kitchen. It is not Molly's very favourite atlas. "Try anything," she says as she unties one of the girl's hands, "and you will regret it." When both of Molly's hands are free, the rest of the restraints still knotted tightly, Kellie hands the atlas to her. "Now. Find me Rainer Madson."

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