Francis Wilson

JP with Jaxx, Trustno1 and Cindy

It had taken a few hours to get from the Pennsylvania Dutch country full of farmlands, red barns adorned with hex signs and grassy pastures. Even driving past an black Amish horse and buggy or two to get to the noise, high-rise buildings and congestion of the city. Then another two hours, thanks to the never ending traffic on the LIE (or Long Island Expressway for those unfamiliar with its nickname), to reach the campground where they'd set up the van for however long they would be there.

By now, the area had become less congested but they were not in a quaint area, like Pennsylvania. This was the middle ground. The area they drove through, once reaching Long Island, was a suburban poster child for the middle class. Brick houses, all strikingly similar, lined-up in rows, with small rod-iron fences, black for the most part. Small front yards, occasionally the backyard which was a decent enough size. but not big by anyone's definition, could be made out. With brick sidewalks leading from one house to another, until reaching a corner where, very often, a small convenience shop stood. Some had gas pumps, most did not. Occasionally, a small eatery or coffee shop could also be spotted.

The area past this point, where Alyssa was from, stood in stark contrast to the first section. Tall elaborate fences surrounded large parcels of land, immaculately kept lawns, long driveways, leading to grand mansions. Some were new or newer but some had been built centuries ago, when the country was still young.

The morning after they arrived, after having breakfast and getting ready. Alyssa got her van out of the trailer and then waited for Peter and Max.

Once everyone who was venturing with the hacker to see her mother was ready. Alyssa took off down the road.

It took about thirty minutes to come to the stone wall which surrounded the stately manor. The hacker pressed a code on a keypad and the elaborate black iron gate opened. She drove through. There was a lot of green land and gardens making up the landscape. A long paved driveway lay before them. The house was a large white home with gold trim. To the side was another house, smaller than the main house but still two stories and impressive in size.

"That is the guest house." Alyssa pointed out the smaller house, for the benefit of those that hadn't been there before.

The driveway horseshoed around a series of three fountains. One large one in the middle and two smaller ones. They were currently running..

"The house was built in the early 1920s. Belonged to some Wall Street financier," Alyssa explained. "He lost everything in the crash. Had to sell the house. My mother's family had recently moved to Long Island, they were heavily involved in oil and alcohol which were two businesses that did not lose money despite the Depression. They bought the house. Ever since then it's just been passed down through the generations." She paused.

They had gotten close enough now that the elegance of the 1920s was on display on the outside of the home. Though it was also clear the manor had been well kept through the years. Inside the house was very modern while keeping the 1920s aesthetic.

Stopping the van in front of the house, Alyssa signed and turned off the engine. "I must apologize in advance for anything you might hear my mother say. She is not likely to be in a good mood." Saying to everyone in the van.

"Does your mom know about the secret world ? What does she think about all this, the dreaming ones? Does she know about The Dark? She should have much more respect for you if she knows that you're dealing with things like Nostradamus, Revelations, the end of the world..." said Sartre. He reached to take her hand. He wanted to walk in with them both holding hands.

"I don't think she knows anything about any of that." Alyssa then said. "We can't tell her. She's not part of all of this. I mean my mother isn't stupid but she has never asked what is going on with me, and as far as I know, she also has never asked about my father. I don't even know if my mother has any idea that he was missing or is back." That sounded odd. "Understand my father never came home, the two don't communicate. She never once asked me where he was. Even if she had, I was told to say he was working abroad. At least until that didn't work any longer but honestly I am not sure she even cared."

There was something Alyssa wasn't saying, something she figured they would see for themselves.

Agent Powers gave Alyssa a smolder and a pause before he asked, "You know when my father is on a secret mission he usually has someone fill in for him to take his messages to deliver his instructions in his absence. If your father did the same, then someone was sending her messages pretending to be your father to keep up the act right?"

"That's possible," but five years is a long time to keep that up. Alyssa reached for her door. "Well, let's do this. I suppose." She opened it, and left the driver's side, closing her door behind her. Then the hacker waited for the others.

Agent Powers and Ekaterina got out of the vehicle and approached Alyssa as they waited for her to take the lead.

Sartre followed Alyssa.

Alyssa held Peter's hand as she walked up the stairs, and towards the front door. As they approached the entrance the door opened. Standing a man, probably close to Sung's age with dark hair, dressed in a suit. "Miss Alyssa,"

"Hello, Douglas." Alyssa then gestured towards the others. "These are my guests."

"Come in," Doug opened the door wider and allowed them in.

They stepped into a large hall with high ceilings and an elaborate antique crystal and brass chandelier lighting the way. Intricately layered wood made a beautiful floral design on the floor.

Once Douglas closed the door, Alyssa introduced those with her, she had asked them last night how they wanted to be introduced. Whatever they had told her was what the hacker went with. When she was done with the introductions, Douglas offered to take any jackets they might be wearing, Alyssa chose to keep her leather jacket on. He then offered drinks or refreshments, while Alyssa declined but she did tell the others to go ahead if they wished.

Doug looked nervous that Alyssa had brought others with her. He had been on vacation when her mother had been on the cruise, and hadn't even met Max before.

"She was expecting me to come alone. Is she one of her ... moods?" Alyssa asked Doug.

"Quite, Miss." Doug replied.

Alyssa sighed, this wasn't going to be pretty. She felt bad for Doug having to deal with it so much, but he seemed determined to stay.

"Where is she?" Alyssa asked.

"In the study." Doug replied.

"Well, then let's get this over with." The house was three stories, but the study was on the first floor. They passed various rooms, most of them were closed and Alyssa didn't seem up for giving a tour.

She arrived at a white door, with the filigree design on the front. Knocked twice. No answer. Alyssa peeked in the room.

"'About time you got here." Could be heard. The words sounded slurred.

Alyssa opened the door wider. Francis Wilson sat on a large leather chair in the corner. Her feet up on a matching ottoman. Glass in hand, filled with a brown liquid, and ice which clinked with every move of the woman's hand.

A few things would catch anyone's eyes for one she was dressed in an expensive designer outfit, yellow and white. For another she was clearly drunk. Thirdly, the woman with bleach blonde hair and eyes the color of the sea was very attractive, model material really and Alyssa absolutely looked nothing like her.