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Chapter 4: Here We Go
(In Which Lance Gets *Ntimate With Rosie O'Donnell and JC Tickles His Own Ivories)

Rrring! Rrring! Rrring! Rrring!

JC moaned and yanked his pillow out from under his head to place it over his ears. "Ugh, somebody get the phone," he whined, feeling the bed shift and dip as Lance stirred next to him.

"Urg," Lance answered, rolling over and burrowing deeper under the covers. Justin, Chris, and Joey, all of whom were crammed into the king-sized bed with them, didn't make a peep.

JC sighed and rolled over, reaching over Lance to pick up the still-ringing phone. "Yeah, what."

Johnny laughed. "Good morning, JC! Rise and shine."

"Uh-huh." He lay back down and closed his eyes, still holding the phone.

"Listen, I've scheduled a last-minute interview for you guys, with Rosie. Everyone's dying to hear your story, and I figured she'd be the easiest person for you guys to talk to."

"'Kay. Time?"

"This afternoon at four, so get a move on. Your plane leaves in three hours."

"Right," he yawned. "Four o'clock."

"I'll meet you boys downstairs in an hour. I mean it, JC. One hour!" Johnny hung up, still chuckling.

JC let the phone fall to the bedspread and just lay there for a moment, drifting. Finally, he pried his eyes open and poked Lance, hard, in the side. "Lance, guys, wake up. We got an interview; gotta get dressed."

"Interview?" Joey asked sleepily from the far end of the bed. "Since when?"

"Since just now," JC answered, picking up the beeping phone and hanging it up. "Johnny got us scheduled with Rosie."

"O'Donnell?"

"What other Rosies do we ever have interviews with, doofus?"

"Shut up." Joey sat up and unceremoniously yanked all of the covers off the bed, ignoring the indignant protests from Chris, Justin, and Lance. "Come on, get out of here. Go to your own rooms, I've got to shower."

~*~

Ethan Thompson sat quietly in a private holding cell at the police station, glowering at the floor. Due to the chaos created first by the explosion at the power plant, then the hostage situation at the hospital and finally the fire at the Four Seasons Hotel, bail had not yet been set. The Jive executive was stuck cooling his heels behind bars like a common criminal.

It had only taken him a few minutes after his arrest to stop being frightened and start being livid. He thought of Chris and scowled. How dare that stunted little freak threaten him! Lance was no better, having the gall to reach into his mind and just pluck out the truth about the explosion. Every one of them had turned against him, even his own colleagues and those brainless bodyguards they'd hired to watch after the group. And now these backwards hicks calling themselves police officers were keeping him locked up in here as if he was no better than the lower-class riff-raff he'd passed on the way in.

Thompson clenched his teeth. By the time his lawyer was done with them....

"Thompson," said the guard curtly, rapping on the bars with his nightstick, "you've got a visitor."

Thompson's eyes widened as he took in who had come. "You—"

"My client and I would like a moment alone, please," the visitor requested smoothly, cutting him off. He waited until the guard headed back to his desk before regarding Thompson coldly. "You ratted me out, Ethan, didn't you?"

Thompson went pale. "What are you doing here? I thought—"

"You thought I'd died in the explosion? No, no thanks to you. You were supposed to wait, but you didn't want anyone left alive who could reveal your part in the 'tragedy,' did you?"

Thompson started to sweat. "I thought you'd had enough time! I wasn't trying to—"

"Liar." The visitor stretched a hand between the bars and took hold of Thompson's shoulder.

Ethan slumped forward into the bars, suddenly so weak his legs could barely support him. "What...?" his vision began to dim.

"Unfortunately for you," the visitor said coldly, eyes glowing ice blue, "They weren't the only ones who developed powers."

The last thing Ethan Thompson saw before he died was the visitor's evil smile.

~*~

"Oh my God!"

The five singers were greeted by an open-armed Rosie the minute they entered the studio. "Oh my God, give me a hug...." They obliged gladly, all five of them hugging her in turn, letting her squeeze them much tighter than comfort would normally allow. "Do you mind?" she asked belatedly, gesturing to the camera crew filming their affectionate greeting.

"No, we don't mind," Joey answered, hurriedly putting her at ease. "That's what we came for."

"And for hugs," Rosie added, surreptitiously wiping at moist eyes.

"Yeah," he answered, hugging her again.

She led them to a small, intimate room with two couches and a loveseat, and they all sat down, Rosie with Lance on the loveseat, Chris and Justin on one couch, and Joey and JC on the other. The camera crews quietly set up opposite them, never missing one word or gesture.

"So, my God, I turned on the television and they said you'd all been killed in an explosion!"

"Yeah," Lance confirmed. "News got out pretty fast."

"They counted us out too soon," Chris added with a cheeky grin.

"Well, what were you doing there? What happened? Your words." Rosie leaned forward in anticipation, her elbows resting on her knees.

"Well, um...." Justin looked around at the rest of them to see if anyone else wanted to answer. No one did. "See, we heard there was a nuclear power plant there in Meadowview, and we wanted to tour it, because, um...." He blushed a little. "It's dumb."

"Go ahead, why?"

"Um... well, because we wanted to see if it was anything like the one on 'The Simpsons'."

Rosie tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smile. "Was it?"

"No. Not at all."

~*~

The interview was spectacular. The group's manager, Johnny Wright, watched proudly from behind the camera as the group bantered good-naturedly with Rosie, telling their side of the story. There was no doubt in Johnny's mind that once the interview aired later that night, N Sync would have more fans from all over the world. The highlight of the interview was when they demonstrated their powers for her, one by one.

Joey picked up a couch with Rosie and the other four group members sitting on it, then flew them up a few feet into the air. (He would have gone up higher, but Chris had a minor freak-out.)

Chris ran around the room a bit and then made a large circle of flames that he kept daring people to jump through. No one would.

Justin shot some low-powered lasers from his eyes, drenched Joey with a cascade of freezing cold water, and demonstrated his super-sensitive hearing in much the same way he had at the police station. He declined to show his weather-control, as he hadn't yet had a chance to test it. ("How do you know you can do it, then?" Rosie asked. The sheepish answer: "Lance told me I could.")

Lance played a little game with Rosie in which she would think of a series of unrelated things—numbers, letters, places, people—and he would reach into her mind and pluck them out. She joked that she had never felt closer to him, and could he please not tell anybody about "that thing with the guy... in the place." Lance agreed.

Finally, JC demonstrated his shape-shifting abilities by turning himself once again into a tomcat (Chris also used this opportunity to demonstrate his ability to communicate with animals), and then into a grand piano which gleefully played itself to the tune of "The Entertainer."

It was during JC's piano demonstration that Johnny's cellphone, which he had set to vibrate rather than ring in deference to the filming, began to go off. He stepped silently out of the room and walked a few paces down the hallway before answering. "This is Wright, talk to me."

"Jonathan Wright? This is Captain Simon Taggart of the Meadowview police department."

Johnny rolled his eyes and fought back an annoyed sigh. "Oh, hello, Captain. What can I do for you?"

"I've got bad news and worse news, which would you like first?"

Johnny frowned. Taggart didn't sound like the cocky, suspicious man he'd been before. He sounded... almost weary. "Bad news first, I guess."

"Ethan Thompson's dead."

"What?!"

"Died in the holding cells sometime early this morning. We were all so busy taking care of the mess your boys left in their wake that no one got down there to check on him until around ten. He'd already been dead for a couple of hours, medical examiner said." Taggart let out an audible sigh. "Look, Wright, I'll be honest with you. My first thought was to haul you and your boys right back here for questioning, but according to the M.E., it was probably a heart attack, so they're off the hook. Just thought you ought to know, especially since we never got to question him about his accomplices."

Johnny closed his eyes and began to rub his forehead. "Fine. What's the worse news?"

"Well...." Another weary and defeated sigh. "A man we believe to be one of those nameless accomplices has kidnapped a five-year old child and is asking for your boys in exchange for her safe return."

"What?!" Johnny's voice echoed down the hallway, and one of Rosie's interns poked her head out of the lounge to shush him. "Hold on, hold on. They're in the middle of an interview, but I think this is reason enough to stop it." He hurried back down the hallway and into the lounge, signaling to Rosie. "Give me your number," he said to Taggart, pulling his ever-present pen and pad from his front pocket. I'll call you right back." Taggart rattled off the number and Johnny scribbled it down before approaching the group.

"Rosie, I'm sorry but we need to end this. I have some bad news...."

They all regarded him silently, with worry and apprehension. Every single one of them, camera crew included, knew that he would never have interrupted the interview unless it was something extremely serious.

"I just got a call from Captain Taggart back in Meadowview. First off, Ethan Thompson is dead of a heart attack and they never got to question him about any accomplices. Second...." He closed his eyes for a moment, praying for strength. "Some whack-job has kidnapped a five-year old girl and wants you boys to come and get her."

"What?!" Five voices rose in horror and indignation as Rosie and her crew gaped in shock.

"Oh my God, when?" Chris's face had gone utterly white. "Is she hurt?"

"I don't know," Johnny told him, shaking his head. "I told Taggart I'd call him back to get more details. Rosie, is there a phone we can use, where we can put him on speaker?"

"Sure...." She motioned to one of her interns, who hurried out of the room. The camera crew kept right on filming. "God, who could have done this? Why do they want you guys?"

"Don't know. The captain apparently thinks it might be one of Thompson's accomplices, but they really have no way of knowing."

The intern rushed back in with a telephone, which she quickly plugged into the nearest jack. "Here you go," she said shyly to Johnny, who immediately dialed back Taggart's number.

"Taggart," came the flat-voiced answer.

"It's John Wright. Hang on, I've got all the boys here, I'm going to put you on speakerphone." He did so, then carefully hung up the receiver. "Taggart, you there?"

"Yeah. You all hear me?" The five singers all answered in the affirmative. "Good. How much did Wright tell you?"

"Some asshole kidnapped a kid," Justin answered.

"That's about the size of it. He most likely took her early this afternoon; the mother called her in as missing at about 3:00, and he called the station at 3:45 saying he had her and wanted a trade."

"He wants all of us?" Joey wrinkled his nose, confused. "No ransom demands, just us?"

"That's right. We've got men looking for him, but so far no luck. He said he'd only give information about where he was to the five of you. But listen, if you decide to do this—"

"We'll do it," JC interrupted.

Taggart cleared his throat. "As I was saying, if you agree to do this, you won't have to do it alone. We'll have men at your backs, and we've got a negotiator on the phone with him now, trying to bargain him down, maybe to just one of you."

"No dice," Chris disagreed. "We'll do it, and we'll do it together."

"Look, Kirkpatrick," Taggart growled, a bit of his usual temper coming through, "I know you think you're hot stuff now—"

"No pun intended," Joey interjected under his breath, causing the others to chuckle slightly.

"—but we have rules and regulations to follow, okay? Civilians do not go into hostage situations without backup, and we would have a much easier time with one of you than with all five."

"With all due respect, sir," Lance put in sensibly, "We're not ordinary civilians. We know the danger involved, but we're willing to risk it for that child."

"Word," Justin agreed emphatically.

Taggart let out a frustrated snort. "We'll discuss this later. How soon can you get back here?"

"I'll book the soonest flight and call you with projected arrival time," Johnny promised. "We'll report straight to you when we get there."

"You do that." Taggart hung up with a loud click.

Rosie looked around at all of the boys as Johnny immediately commandeered the phone to make the arrangements. "Oh my God."

JC let out an explosive sigh. "Yeah.... This sucks."

Justin ran a hand over his shorn head. "Man, that poor kid...."

"If he's hurt that kid, I'll..." Chris glanced over at Rosie before continuing. "...do something really painful to him."

Rosie smiled shakily, eying Johnny as he made the flight arrangements. "You'll be careful, won't you? I don't want to hear that something bad happened to you."

"We'll be careful, Rosie," Joey assured her, standing up to hug her. "We'll go in, kick that guy's butt, get the little girl, and be out in time for dinner."

"Don't get too cocky, now." Rosie frowned, looking around seriously at all of them. "He knows about your powers and he's still challenging you. He's got to have something up his sleeve."

The group glanced at one another as Rosie's words struck a chord.

"She's right," Lance said slowly, his eyes going unfocused. "I have a really bad feeling about this."

"Do you see something specific?" JC was wringing his hands in nervousness.

"No...." Lance shook his head, frustrated. "It's just... a really uneasy feeling. I can't see anything like I did in the conference room, it's just... it's like a bad vibe."

"Well, we'll just have to be prepared for anything," Chris suggested, eyes flashing. "Messing with us is one thing, but he's gonna be real sorry he ever touched that kid."

Rosie shuddered.

~*~

"I'm Channel seven's Sherry Levine, reporting live in front of the decimated power plant where an unidentified man is holding a young girl hostage. Five-year old Alicia Dennis was apparently snatched from the playground where she was playing with three young friends, under the supervision of a teenage babysitter. The babysitter's name has not been released.

"The police are here in force, along with scores of people who are awaiting the arrival of the five men who may be the only ones who can rescue little Alicia—a pop group by the name of N Sync.

"The kidnapper, during negotiations with police, refused to deal with anyone other than the group, citing specifically the strange superpowers they acquired just yesterday in an accident here at the plant.

"The police speculate that the kidnapper may be the inside man at the power plant who helped Jive Records executive, Ethan Thompson, in his plan to kill the group in an explosion. Thompson, who died mysteriously in a police holding cell this morning, never gave the names of his accomplices.

"Behind me, you can just see the five group members standing in front of the doors to the building. They appear to be in a small huddle, most likely coming up with a game plan for this dangerous retrieval."

~*~

"Amen."

The group softly chorused their agreement as Lance finished his prayer, but didn't yet step away from the huddle. Lance kept his eyes closed. "I still feel bad about this, guys," he told them, the strain evident in his face. "I just... I really kind of feel like one of us may not be walking out of there."

Four faces suddenly went pale. "What..." Joey gulped. "Are you sure?"

Lance finally opened his eyes. "No."

Chris blew out a frustrated breath. "Well, there's not much we can do other than be careful, watch our backs, and trust in God. That little girl is counting on us."

"Team?" JC asked, and while to outsiders it was an incomprehensible question, they all knew exactly what he meant.

Justin placed an outstretched hand in the center of their circle, and it was quickly covered by four other hands. "Go, team!"

They broke apart, stood in an unconscious formation with Chris in front, Justin and Joey behind him, and Lance and JC bringing up the rear, faced what very well could be their deaths, and stepped inside.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Epilogue

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