"We need to get closer!" Bennet says. "Go invisible, see if you can tranq her!" But Claude already made the switch; he's running after her, fast as he can, the tranquilizer gun banging at his side.
The empath whirls around. "Leave me alone!" she says, and she throws her hands up; the chain fence around them wrenches free and goes hurtling toward them. Bennet dives forward and tumbles on the ground.
Still invisible, Claude whips out his tranquilizer gun and fires. The darts only stay invisible for a moment: it's not long enough, the empath evades them easily. Claude keeps running but the empath is faster; he shoots wildly, the darts scattering around her like leaves.
Claude's tranq gun runs out of cartridges. "Shit!" Claude says. He throws the gun to the ground.
"I'm out of cartridges!" Claude says. A garbage can flies past his shoulder. "Bloody hell!"
"Use the gun!" Bennet says.
"This isn't a kill order!" Claude says.
"Just use the gun!" Bennet says. Suddenly he whips out his own gun and fires. Bullets smash into the empath's kneecap. The empath crumbles on the ground.
Bennet reholsters his gun and walks toward the empath, who's clutching her knee. The girl crouches low, then slowly gets back on her feet. She looks at Bennet and smiles. Then she becomes invisible. She turns and runs into Claude, who looks at her straight in the eye.
"Sorry love, not this time," Claude says, and he injects her in the arm.
Sandra was getting mad because of all the weekends Bennet was doing at the office, so Bennet and Claude had to do the paperwork in Bennet's den in the basement. It's a Sunday afternoon: Sandra is fussing about the kitchen while the kids toddle around her ankles. "There's lemonade in the fridge, Claude," Sandra says. "Feel free to help yourself."
In the den, Claude leans against Bennet's desk, watching Bennet write. "How many abilities did she manifest? Three?" Bennet asks. "And that thing with the fence--would you say that was telekinesis, or was she manipulating metal?"
"Fuck if I know, just put whatever you want, it's not as if anyone actually reads these things," Claude says. Bennet chews on his pencil.
"I'm going to put TK slash metal manip, with a question mark," Bennet says. He writes it down with a flourish. "There. And now we just have to figure out how many tranq cartridges were discharged before we switched to bullets..."
Claude was never the paper-pushing type, and Bennet shows a certain flair for documentation. Really, Claude's just there for moral support.
"Noah? Claude?" Sandra's voice carries from upstairs. "You boys okay down there?"
Bennet quickly turns the papers over. "We're fine," Bennet says. Sandra walks down the stairs and into the den, squinting and rubbing her arms.
"Oh my Lord, why don't y'all come up to the kitchen? It's so dark in here, you'll be straining your eyes," Sandra says.
"We're fine, we're almost done," Bennet says.
"Well dinner's almost ready, so I expect you boys to take a break," Sandra says. "And Claude, you're not leaving, I set an extra place for you already, so I expect you to stay."
"Is it taco night?" Claude asks.
"It most certainly is," Sandra says. She turns to Bennet. "Don't work too hard, now," she says. She winks at Claude and walks back up the stairs.
The empath is doped up on glycimerine, but she's still dangerous. The girl is a human sponge, soaking up everything and anything around her. As a precaution, she's bound and blindfolded, and the Haitian stands guard by her cell. But the empath still can speak, and she slowly rolls her head like a bloody temple oracle. Thompson flips through her chart while Bennet and Claude watch her silently.
The empath takes on Claude's accent. "I saw this fantastic novelty pen in the airport gift shop, yesterday. It had a little lady on the cap, and when you shook it up and down her clothes fell off," the empath says.
"What the fuck is that? I thought you're supposed to be blocking her," Claude says. The Haitian shrugs, elegantly. The empath cocks her head toward Bennet.
"Now, you look like someone's done kicked your puppy," the empath says. She sounds like Sandra, now. "What's wrong, honey? See something you don't like?" Bennet looks rattled. The empath grins and turns toward the Haitian. "I know what you're thinking," she says. The Haitian looks non-plussed.
"I've seen enough," Thompson says, and he motions for Claude and Bennet to follow him. "She's even manifesting non-abilities, tapping into your memories. She's too dangerous to release."
"Can she control it?" Bennet asks.
"It doesn't matter if she can control it, she's dangerous," Thompson says. "I'll run this by Bob in the morning, but my guess is he'll authorize more tests. After that--"
"He's gonna kill her," Claude says. Thompson and Bennet turn around. "You're gonna authorize more tests and then you're gonna kill her."
"No one said anything about killing," Thompson says.
Claude opens his mouth, but Bennet cuts in. "I heard we have an arrival from Newark. What's the ETA?"
Thompson gives Claude a look, then turns to Bennet. "They're estimating two, three hours," Thompson says. "Hank's already got the cell prepared, we're just waiting for the subject to come in." He shoots a look at Claude. "Watch yourself," Thompson says, and he opens the door and leaves.
When the new arrival comes, Claude switches to invisibility and goes back to the empath's cell. The girl is still slumped in a chair, blindfolded. He glances at the Haitian, sitting at the end of the hall. As a matter of course, the Haitian selectively allows registered Specials to move about the facility with their powers intact: he probably thinks Claude is with the others. Claude easily sneaks by him and rounds the corner where the door to the girl's cell is located. Still invisible, he enters the cell. Claude can't save her, but he can give her the means by which she can escape the torture: a small vial of cyanide tablets, which he slips into her hand. "If it gets to be too much," Claude says, and the girl smiles. She speaks in Claude's accent.
"Right good Samaritan you are, when you want to be," the girl says. Claude frowns and quickly ties her blindfold back on.
The next day, Claude bumps into Thompson, who's on his way to the girl's cell.
"Claude, I need a word with you."
"Fuck off," Claude says, and he switches to invisibility. Fucking bureaucrats. Claude has had enough of them.
Claude is walking down the hallway when Bennet grabs him by the lapels of his jacket. He shoves Claude against the wall.
"What the hell was that?" Bennet asks.
"What the hell was what?" Claude asks. Bennet lets him go.
"Don't give me that, I know what you did," Bennet says. "I saw you slip that girl cyanide. You're lucky I got to the security feed before they did, people are terminated for less."
"They're not terminating me, I'm their prize dog. I'm the best they got," Claude says. "And anyway, she's dead now, so it doesn't even matter."
"They're watching you," Bennet says. "On the next assignment, I'm supposed to make sure you're in line."
"I've never dumped out on an assignment, friend, and I resent the implication," Claude says.
"I'm only saying this once," Bennet says. "Watch your back. Because I can only do so much before you get caught."
"No one's catching me, there's nothing to catch," Claude says, and he becomes invisible. He walks down the hall, keeping his back turned so he doesn't have to see that worried look on Bennet's face.
Outside, Claude snaps up a bottle of vodka and sits down on a park bench. He takes a swig and watches a group of children flying kites. As they run, their feet kick up dust in the brown grass, and for the first time in years, Claude finds himself missing London. "Bloody hell," Claude says, and he takes another swig. The muscles in his shoulder tenses, and when Claude reaches up to rub his neck, he feels his tracker underneath his fingers.
"Claude? My heavens, what are you doing here?"
Sandra stands by the door, looking positively bewildered. "Is Noah okay?" Sandra asks. Claude gestures vaguely.
"He's fine," Claude says. "I was just wondering if you needed help with the kids?"
Sandra opens the door wider. "They're watching cartoons, you can come in if you like," Sandra says. She lets him in. In the living room, Claude sits next to Lyle, who's pushing a toy truck on the floor. "You like that, do you?" Claude asks. He picks Lyle up and sets him in his lap. Lyle giggles and hugs the truck to his chest.
Sandra sits down next to him. "You'll make a great father someday," Sandra says.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Claude says. He scratches his neck self-consciously. He wishes he could tell Sandra how he broke into the girl's cell, and how he pulled out the vial of cyanide and pressed it into the girl's hands. That night, the doctor issued a report stating that the girl's heart had stopped. But no matter, they had Adam's blood on hand, more than enough to reverse the effects of the cyanide. Claude forwarded through hours and hours of security tape, watching the tests and girl's face wrench in pain: they killed her after they were done.
Claude pulled the tape out and tossed it in the garbage. Then he walked to Sandra's house, as it was the only alternative to getting smashed and quite possibly shoving a gun against Thompson's fat head. Either way it wouldn't have been a good idea.
"Would you like some iced tea? I just brewed a fresh batch," Sandra says.
"I'll take a hot one if you have it," Claude says. Sandra smiles.
"Well sure, I'll put it on the stove," Sandra says, and Claude smiles wanly: it almost feels like home.