Chapter 6

But now, after several months of lobbying for a petition to free Sam and Tucker, Jazz had a plan that would release Danny from the CGIA without further aggravating the agency against her friends and family. 

And then the Ghost Getters were going to trip the CGIA's system to give Danny an open escape through the security labyrinth of the agency. And once Danny escaped, they could help him to move far, far away from the CGIA's reach.

...

Turning back around to face the living room, Jazz forced herself to be positive. It'll work, it'll work, she repeated like a mantra in her mind. I've got the petition, and half the battle's already been won.

Her lithe fingers curled around her car keys in an attempt to comfort herself, and she dutifully plastered a small, determined expression on her face. She glanced up at the digital clock by the phone and saw that it was already getting late. The Town Hall closes in an hour, she realized, her teal eyes widening.

Her key chain already looped on her wrist, Jazz gathered the papers back up into a straight stack and tucked them under her arm. "I'll be back," she told her puppy dog, bending down to give Ghostey a quick pat on the head. "Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

The small dog nuzzled into Jazz's hand and whined, flashing pitiful, green eyes up at the woman.

Standing back up, she marched over to the TV, and picked up the remote. She hit the power button and set the screen to some news channel, not caring to find out which one it was. "There," she said. "At least now you've got something to keep you happy."

Ghostey woofed in a reluctant agreement and curled up in a ball next to the TV.

Wheeling around, Jazz inhaled a deep breath of preparation, and headed for the door of her apartment. Then, with one last pep talk, she turned the knob and walked out the door, locking it behind her.

But if she had stayed one more minute, or listened to the news for one more split second, Jazz would have caught the news:

"—Terrible events in Amity Park," the newscaster was reporting gravely. "The Central Ghost Intelligence Agency exploded into fire at roughly 8 o' clock this evening." The woman motioned to a screen which showed a helicopter view of the building.

In comparison to the dark cool night, the building looked like an apocalyptic furnace. Flames taller than the structure itself flashed from the roof, the windows, the tumbling sides. "Reasons for the fire are unknown, and the fire department has still been unable to contain the rapid spread of the flames." The camera zoomed into where three firemen were desperately shooting gallons of water onto the roof. It had no effect.

"Nearly all of the staff and personnel were able to escape this fire before the exits were blocked; however, there is rising concern over the possibility of trapped individuals still inside." The woman took a fleeting glance back down at her notes. "Among the list of missing persons is our very own Red Huntress, Valerie Gray. Analysts have traced her whereabouts, yet firefighters say an attempt to rescue her would be impossible."

She continued on, "The sheer heat of this fire has made entering it lethal, even with proper equipment. Fire experts say that the probability of Valerie Gray's survival, along with all other trapped personnel, are steadily declining with every minute they are not rescued."

The view of the building slowly faded from the screen, and the co-anchor picked back up. "We'll keep you updated during this event and with necessary emergency danger alerts."

Ghostey let out a soft whine.

...

Agent O leaned over the keyboards of the various computers. "You're saying the reinforcement walls failed?"

"Yes, sir," the analyst said, voice tight. "Time to full decimation of the Containment Labs is estimated at no more than fifteen minutes. The siphoning tech later hooked to Phantom appears to have compromised fireproofing capabilities."

"Hm." His fingers tapped on the console. "That's a pity."

"Sir, Valerie Gray is still in the building, and I've located her tracker as pinging from within Phantom's Containment Lab. We could potentially use Phantom's storages to activate an icing protocol and buy her some more time." 

The CGIA's fire, it seemed, was not typical of most buildings. 

The various electrical components throughout the walls meant just as soon as firefighters put out the flames, they would re-spark, frustrating suppression attempts.

Agent O remained silent, tilting his head. "No," he said finally. "The mission has failed. Divert all underground storages to our off-site facility, and update the siphoning protocols to be at full capacity until Phantom drains out."

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

The analyst sputtered. "You...you mean we're going to let Agent Gray die? And our Asset? After all my work?"

Agent O stepped away from the computers and said, "Perhaps it would be better this way. Agent Gray was not briefed on the classified purposes for the Containment Lab, and with as much as we've taken from Phantom, we have the infrastructure now to duplicate his power core. That makes them both... expendable."

The analyst had frozen. "Sir?"

"I am not wasting more time on saving loose-cannon agents. Set Phantom's siphoning protocols to wide open," Agent O demanded. "Drain Phantom, now. And speak of this to no one."

...

Valerie kept thinking that maybe she'd wake up in her nice, soft bed, surrounded by Amity Gazette news clippings of Danny Phantom's incarceration at the CGIA. 

But instead, she was surrounded by a beaten, skeletal version of her own worst enemy, who bore evidence that the CGIA had a sicker underbelly than she thought. And the CGIA was tumbling down in flames, about to take her with it.

Tears sprung to her eyes. I'm sorry, Daddy…I guess you were right, after all. Ghost hunting's gonna consume me.

Her hands shook with adrenaline, and her burned hand pulsed with such pain that she couldn't hold in her wince. The flames had produced a black screen of smoke, and it leeched out into the previously clean air.

"I can't let you go," she said, voice hoarse as she turned around to face Phantom. "You stole things. You hurt innocent people. If I let you go, then all that falls back on me, and the CGIA would kill me anyway."

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "You're afraid of them too? Do they have something over you?"

The more flammable things were located on the far wall of the Lab, and away from the approaching fire. The flames that began leaking in through the door frame had slowly spread out onto the surrounding few inches of wall, and the strong coating of metallic paint was buying them precious minutes.

Her eyes watered with tears, and she angrily brushed them away. "No. But I'm not going down in the papers like a villain. Do you even know what that would look like for me? Valerie Gray releases Danny Phantom because she got scared? Please."

The rejection of his deal made Phantom's expression grow more anxious. He weakly sat back in his pod, for a moment, wildly overwhelmed. She saw it on his face, down to the way he began to toy at the collar of his jumpsuit. "You wanna die on principle, then."

"I believe in principles," she retorted, "and sticking to promises."

"Or not having your bounty rewards taken away," he muttered, eyeing her darkly. Something glimmered from the tips of his fingers. "I don't know if I can hate you, or if I admire how stubborn you are."

"Yeah?" she challenged. "And what the hell are you doing? Got a secret weapon there you wanna try on me?"

Phantom looked down at his chest, pulling out the thin necklace from under his collar to reveal a small object. A ring with a black opal stone. He cradled in his scarred palm as if it were glass. "It's the one thing I have left to own," he confessed. Frustration burned in his voice. "The one thing they've never taken from me."

Valerie raised a brow in surprise, eyeing the fire and the incoming smoke. Desperate for a distraction. "They let you keep a possession down here?"

His fingers closed around the ring, and he leveled his gaze with hers, revealing a darkness she hadn't ever seen before in him. "Bad things happen when they take it."

She could not hold his gaze, feeling chills. She looked back down at his hand and asked, "What, like it's your ghost obsession or something? Overprotective about a damn ring?"

In response, he glared at her and said, "It's not the ring. It's what it stands for—the last thing I have of her."

"Of who?"

===================

Don't forget to throw some power Stones, to keep the story going.

...

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