Alisaura
Blue Crack Supplier
If you haven't seen chapter 14 yet, you might want to read that first, cos otherwise this won't make much sense. 
Thanks again everyone, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
I have other stories in various states of (non-)completion, most particularly the one Diane and I have been working on together for some time. Which is nearly done...
(I can't bring myself to start posting something before it's done.
)
Enough waffle from me... I don't mean ta bug ya.
-----
Epilogue
-----
Natasha's lawyer, Ms McIntosh, had prepared for a lengthy trial, but it did not eventuate. Natasha's hostage had refused to press charges about the endangerment of his life; charges relating to the damage of one Fokker 50 aircraft were dropped when the plane changed ownership suddenly; and aside from never having displayed any intent to use fear to achieve a political or religious goal, any possible charges of terrorism were dismissed when it was discovered that the plane's starboard engine failed catastrophically in a laboratory test, conducted at the insistence of the plane's new owner. A number of tiny flaws that, individually, were within tolerance, had combined with disastrous results. No blame was apportioned, maintenance practices were reviewed, and Natasha was cleared of any suspicion.
Her obviously precarious mental state had also been taken into consideration.
The authorities were silent on the matter of what might have happened had Natasha not acted as she had, however. The magistrate contented himself with stating his relief that no more damage had been done.
In the end, all Natasha was charged with was the illegal possession of a fire-arm; she received a hefty fine and a suspended sentence. The man who had sold her the gun was tracked down and arrested as well, but Natasha didn't know his fate. The fine was taken care of as quickly, quietly and mysteriously as Tasha's bail and legal fees had been, although she knew who was behind it.
She hadn't seen Bono since the fourth of July, as the police had taken him away. He had obviously been interviewed and made a statement, but he'd kept a very low profile in the weeks following the incident. Natasha could understand that – her colleagues in the press had latched onto the events of the fourth as if it had been the biggest thing since 9/11. As far as the tabloid Irish media went, it was. Unfortunately for them, Natasha had promised her exclusive story to the Independent, in exchange for her continued employment, a month's leave, and a few other things besides.
"You're supposed to write the headlines, not feature in them," John had told her.
"I wasn't going to be writing many headlines from the obituaries department, was I now?" Tasha had replied.
She didn't need to go back to work in any particular hurry, in any case – Ms McIntosh had presented her with a winning lottery ticket that had been bought on her behalf after she'd been arrested. She had to share the jackpot with two police officers and a pensioner in Galway, but Tasha didn't mind.
Ms McIntosh, who stayed in touch with Natasha despite her legal skills no longer being required, had also moved Natasha from hotel to hotel until the media harassment calmed down a bit.
"Do you think I could see Bono at some point?" Tasha asked the lawyer, upon being hesitantly moved into a new flat. She hadn't had a paparazzo leap out at her for three days now, and hoped this would be the last move.
"I can't guarantee anything," Ms McIntosh replied.
A few days later, however, Natasha found herself summoned to the south of France, where she was driven to a large and beautiful villa overlooking a picturesque bay. Bono and The Edge both greeted her with smiles.
Tasha was a little dismayed to see The Edge there as well, she had hoped to be able to unload some of the emotional baggage the surreal experience had left her with, and she couldn't exactly have a frank discussion of recent events with someone else there.
"Natasha, I don't think you've met The Edge," Bono said, introducing her unnecessarily. "Or did you?"
The singer was giving her a meaningful look, and The Edge shook Tasha's hand, regarding her with polite curiosity. She hesitated. Now that time was operating normally, she had no incentive, and no desire, to try to convince anyone else of what she'd gone through.
"Ehm..."
"Bono's told me all about what happened," The Edge said conversationally. "On July fourth, I mean."
"All of them," Bono added.
"Oh," was all Natasha could come up with. She gave The Edge a closer look. Did he believe it? Hard to tell.
"Have you met before, then?" Bono said again.
Fine. "Once," Natasha replied, "aside from seeing him a couple of times as he waved us off in the car. Once I buzzed his doorbell and tried to convince him of what was happening, but he didn't believe me. Not then, anyway."
The Edge appeared to be racking his brain for a memory of this event, but came up empty. "I'll have to take your word for it," he smiled at Natasha.
They sat down to a pleasant lunch then, and Tasha relaxed a bit as they ate and drank and talked of more mundane things. After the meal, Bono cajoled The Edge into producing an acoustic guitar, and Natasha finally heard a fuller, but still unfinished version of Bono's song, which he was calling "No Line On The Horizon".
"I never put my tongue in your ear," Tasha said afterwards, wrinkling her nose. Bono laughed.
"The subjects of Bono's songs tend to be composite characters, and largely fictional, at that," The Edge explained, also smiling.
"That'll teach my ego," Natasha replied with a chagrined smile. "And of course you started writing it before you met me even once."
"I don't remember most of the repeats very clearly at all," Bono said. "It's just a jumble of images and scenes, and that feckin' déjà vu. Some things stand out more clearly than others, but so many of the days must have been almost identical… Reg, tell her what happened to you."
Tasha turned and regarded The Edge, whom she assumed was known as Reg to Bono, at least. The guitarist was frowning at a memory.
"I was getting déjà vu as well," he told Natasha. "It wasn't just me, either, everyone seemed to be getting it to some extent…"
"That's what it was!" Bono interrupted suddenly. "When I went out to talk to you, Natasha, at the airport, the déjà vu went away. I knew something was different but I couldn't put my finger on it at the time…"
The Edge was watching the frontman with a bemused sort of tolerance on his face. "Carry on," Bono grinned.
"I went into the studio after Bono left for the airport," The Edge continued. "There was no point, everyone was short-tempered and snapping at one another, and Adam stormed off. Then Sam came out with the news that someone had taken Bono hostage at the airport… and I just felt this huge relief. From the moment I saw Sam's face, I was so sure that he was going to say that Bono's plane had crashed and he was dead... Anything other than that was good news."
"He probably had been saying that every other day, except when Bono didn't get on the plane," Natasha said. So that was why The Edge had even listened, let alone believed what Bono had told him.
The two men just nodded.
"So," Natasha ventured a minute later. "What happened, after I got arrested? You must have been interviewed, at least," she asked Bono. "Before you got my lottery ticket. Thank you, by the way..."
"You're very welcome, it was the least I could do," Bono replied, smiling. "I never made it to the press conference in the end," he continued. "Bob was pretty upset, me stealing the spotlight away from more important things." Bono chuckled.
"Never mind that your life was supposedly in danger?" Natasha said dubiously.
"If I had died, I'm sure he would have made me a martyr for the cause," Bono said, still chuckling.
"He did," Tasha said seriously. "Over and over again." She wondered how strange it must be to know how people would have reacted to your death...
Bono sobered. "Really?"
Tasha nodded. "He did the press conference without you, after the crash. He tried to keep it on-topic, but all the journalists wanted to ask about was you. But he finally lost his temper and gave them all a tongue-lashing, it was a brilliant rant. I even went there one time, just to witness it in person... I spoke to him, afterwards." She looked up at Bono. "It was him that gave me the idea that I could change what happened, that I could save your life," she said.
Bono returned her gaze levelly. "Will you tell us about it, Natasha?"
She wondered if he and The Edge were merely curious, or if Bono suspected that she needed to tell someone, to get it all off her chest. Then she decided that it didn't matter.
Natasha took a sip of wine and a deep breath, and began to tell her story.
***
The End.
***
Thanks again everyone, hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.
I have other stories in various states of (non-)completion, most particularly the one Diane and I have been working on together for some time. Which is nearly done...
(I can't bring myself to start posting something before it's done.
)Enough waffle from me... I don't mean ta bug ya.
-----
Epilogue
-----
Natasha's lawyer, Ms McIntosh, had prepared for a lengthy trial, but it did not eventuate. Natasha's hostage had refused to press charges about the endangerment of his life; charges relating to the damage of one Fokker 50 aircraft were dropped when the plane changed ownership suddenly; and aside from never having displayed any intent to use fear to achieve a political or religious goal, any possible charges of terrorism were dismissed when it was discovered that the plane's starboard engine failed catastrophically in a laboratory test, conducted at the insistence of the plane's new owner. A number of tiny flaws that, individually, were within tolerance, had combined with disastrous results. No blame was apportioned, maintenance practices were reviewed, and Natasha was cleared of any suspicion.
Her obviously precarious mental state had also been taken into consideration.
The authorities were silent on the matter of what might have happened had Natasha not acted as she had, however. The magistrate contented himself with stating his relief that no more damage had been done.
In the end, all Natasha was charged with was the illegal possession of a fire-arm; she received a hefty fine and a suspended sentence. The man who had sold her the gun was tracked down and arrested as well, but Natasha didn't know his fate. The fine was taken care of as quickly, quietly and mysteriously as Tasha's bail and legal fees had been, although she knew who was behind it.
She hadn't seen Bono since the fourth of July, as the police had taken him away. He had obviously been interviewed and made a statement, but he'd kept a very low profile in the weeks following the incident. Natasha could understand that – her colleagues in the press had latched onto the events of the fourth as if it had been the biggest thing since 9/11. As far as the tabloid Irish media went, it was. Unfortunately for them, Natasha had promised her exclusive story to the Independent, in exchange for her continued employment, a month's leave, and a few other things besides.
"You're supposed to write the headlines, not feature in them," John had told her.
"I wasn't going to be writing many headlines from the obituaries department, was I now?" Tasha had replied.
She didn't need to go back to work in any particular hurry, in any case – Ms McIntosh had presented her with a winning lottery ticket that had been bought on her behalf after she'd been arrested. She had to share the jackpot with two police officers and a pensioner in Galway, but Tasha didn't mind.
Ms McIntosh, who stayed in touch with Natasha despite her legal skills no longer being required, had also moved Natasha from hotel to hotel until the media harassment calmed down a bit.
"Do you think I could see Bono at some point?" Tasha asked the lawyer, upon being hesitantly moved into a new flat. She hadn't had a paparazzo leap out at her for three days now, and hoped this would be the last move.
"I can't guarantee anything," Ms McIntosh replied.
A few days later, however, Natasha found herself summoned to the south of France, where she was driven to a large and beautiful villa overlooking a picturesque bay. Bono and The Edge both greeted her with smiles.
Tasha was a little dismayed to see The Edge there as well, she had hoped to be able to unload some of the emotional baggage the surreal experience had left her with, and she couldn't exactly have a frank discussion of recent events with someone else there.
"Natasha, I don't think you've met The Edge," Bono said, introducing her unnecessarily. "Or did you?"
The singer was giving her a meaningful look, and The Edge shook Tasha's hand, regarding her with polite curiosity. She hesitated. Now that time was operating normally, she had no incentive, and no desire, to try to convince anyone else of what she'd gone through.
"Ehm..."
"Bono's told me all about what happened," The Edge said conversationally. "On July fourth, I mean."
"All of them," Bono added.
"Oh," was all Natasha could come up with. She gave The Edge a closer look. Did he believe it? Hard to tell.
"Have you met before, then?" Bono said again.
Fine. "Once," Natasha replied, "aside from seeing him a couple of times as he waved us off in the car. Once I buzzed his doorbell and tried to convince him of what was happening, but he didn't believe me. Not then, anyway."
The Edge appeared to be racking his brain for a memory of this event, but came up empty. "I'll have to take your word for it," he smiled at Natasha.
They sat down to a pleasant lunch then, and Tasha relaxed a bit as they ate and drank and talked of more mundane things. After the meal, Bono cajoled The Edge into producing an acoustic guitar, and Natasha finally heard a fuller, but still unfinished version of Bono's song, which he was calling "No Line On The Horizon".
"I never put my tongue in your ear," Tasha said afterwards, wrinkling her nose. Bono laughed.
"The subjects of Bono's songs tend to be composite characters, and largely fictional, at that," The Edge explained, also smiling.
"That'll teach my ego," Natasha replied with a chagrined smile. "And of course you started writing it before you met me even once."
"I don't remember most of the repeats very clearly at all," Bono said. "It's just a jumble of images and scenes, and that feckin' déjà vu. Some things stand out more clearly than others, but so many of the days must have been almost identical… Reg, tell her what happened to you."
Tasha turned and regarded The Edge, whom she assumed was known as Reg to Bono, at least. The guitarist was frowning at a memory.
"I was getting déjà vu as well," he told Natasha. "It wasn't just me, either, everyone seemed to be getting it to some extent…"
"That's what it was!" Bono interrupted suddenly. "When I went out to talk to you, Natasha, at the airport, the déjà vu went away. I knew something was different but I couldn't put my finger on it at the time…"
The Edge was watching the frontman with a bemused sort of tolerance on his face. "Carry on," Bono grinned.
"I went into the studio after Bono left for the airport," The Edge continued. "There was no point, everyone was short-tempered and snapping at one another, and Adam stormed off. Then Sam came out with the news that someone had taken Bono hostage at the airport… and I just felt this huge relief. From the moment I saw Sam's face, I was so sure that he was going to say that Bono's plane had crashed and he was dead... Anything other than that was good news."
"He probably had been saying that every other day, except when Bono didn't get on the plane," Natasha said. So that was why The Edge had even listened, let alone believed what Bono had told him.
The two men just nodded.
"So," Natasha ventured a minute later. "What happened, after I got arrested? You must have been interviewed, at least," she asked Bono. "Before you got my lottery ticket. Thank you, by the way..."
"You're very welcome, it was the least I could do," Bono replied, smiling. "I never made it to the press conference in the end," he continued. "Bob was pretty upset, me stealing the spotlight away from more important things." Bono chuckled.
"Never mind that your life was supposedly in danger?" Natasha said dubiously.
"If I had died, I'm sure he would have made me a martyr for the cause," Bono said, still chuckling.
"He did," Tasha said seriously. "Over and over again." She wondered how strange it must be to know how people would have reacted to your death...
Bono sobered. "Really?"
Tasha nodded. "He did the press conference without you, after the crash. He tried to keep it on-topic, but all the journalists wanted to ask about was you. But he finally lost his temper and gave them all a tongue-lashing, it was a brilliant rant. I even went there one time, just to witness it in person... I spoke to him, afterwards." She looked up at Bono. "It was him that gave me the idea that I could change what happened, that I could save your life," she said.
Bono returned her gaze levelly. "Will you tell us about it, Natasha?"
She wondered if he and The Edge were merely curious, or if Bono suspected that she needed to tell someone, to get it all off her chest. Then she decided that it didn't matter.
Natasha took a sip of wine and a deep breath, and began to tell her story.
***
The End.
***
What other topics are you covering with the new ones?
It was so good!
I wnat that!
