TIME AGAIN
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from "The Invisible Man" or "7 Days." I'm just doing this for fun! (I-Man fans, please note that I took the liberty of making Huisclos a hardened and vicious man. MFN proved me wrong, but that's another story.)
SPOILERS: From I-Man—Pilot, Separation Anxiety, Cat & Mouse, The Devil You Know; from 7 Days—Tracker
Charles Borden sat nervously in Bradley Talmadge's office. Charles (or Charlie, as he liked to be called) was never nervous. His position as the Official at the Agency had given him power and control. The mind games he used to play with Darien Fawkes proved that Charlie quite enjoyed his status. All that dissolved within the last 6 days since the kidnapping and presumed death of Darien Fawkes.
An older gentleman, probably a peer of Charlie, entered the office. Charlie quickly stood up. The gentleman was accompanied by a taller, somewhat younger man whose no-nonsense face and suspicious gaze reminded Charlie of Robert Hobbes. The gentleman extended his hand to Charlie.
"Charles Borden? I'm Bradley Talmadge." Charlie shook his hand. "This is my chief of security, Nathan Ramsey." Ramsey nodded his head and firmly shook Charlie's hand. "Please, Mr. Borden, have a seat." Charlie sat down, as Talmadge took his seat at his desk and lit up a cigar.
"Why am I here?" Charlie asked. "What is this place?" Funny how he'd been asking those two questions all day, with no answers. Two agents claiming to be from the NSA had picked up Charlie from his home that morning, escorted him to an abandoned air field, and boarded him on a small jet. Charlie didn't know where he was headed or even what was going on. When the jet landed, he was escorted by another duo of NSA agents into a large black car. They arrived at a highly guarded facility in the desert. And then he met Bradley Talmadge and Nathan Ramsey.
"Mr. Borden," Talmadge smiled, "we're here to help you. I believe your Agency and ours share a mutual threat."
"Pardon?" Charlie asked. Talmadge chuckled softly as he tapped his cigar over an ashtray.
"We know about Arnaud de Phone."
"De Föhn," Charlie corrected.
"Right," Talmadge continued. "Our sources in Russia tell us that he has stolen an extremely valuable secret from you. Is this correct?"
"Might be," Charlie sniffed.
"Mr. Borden, don't be vague with us. This is a matter of national security. We are well aware of how de Föhn plans to use the Quicksilver gland against this country and for his own personal profit." Talmadge looked at Charlie, whose eyes were fixed to the floor. "We need your cooperation.'
"Six days ago," Charlie began after a long silence, "Arnaud kidnapped one of my agents, Robert Hobbes. He used Hobbes as bait. Agent Hobbes and Agent Darien Fawkes started out having a rather rocky relationship. But over time, they grudgingly won each other's respect. Arnaud knew that, and used it to his advantage. Agent Fawkes was never assigned a gun, so of course we sent a back-up team to assist him in retrieving Hobbes. All our careful planning failed anyway. Arnaud had secretly positioned snipers to shoot the back-up team, and he quickly disappeared with Agent Fawkes. Agent Hobbes was shot three times, but he just barely survived. He's in the hospital now, in a coma." Just then, Charlie's cellular phone rang. "Excuse me. Hello?… When?… *sigh*… Thank you, Eberts." He folded his phone and tucked it into his jacket. "Agent Hobbes is dead."
"I'm sorry," Talmadge apologized quietly.
"Look, I don't know how you think you're gonna help me," Charlie began tensely. "You can capture Arnaud and retrieve the gland, but where does that leave my agents? They're dead!"
"Leave the whole matter to us," Talmadge assured him. "I understand you were asked to bring files on the Quicksilver Project and on your two agents, correct?"
"Yes," Charlie responded curtly. "You could train your personnel to ask in a nicer way."
"All security personnel are trained by me," Ramsey announced proudly. "Nice is not in our vocabulary."
Obviously, Charlie thought. He handed Talmadge all the files. Talmadge briefly looked at each file. He looked at Charlie.
"Mr. Borden, thank you for your cooperation. I'll see to it that you return home safely."
"That's it?" Charlie asked incredulously.
"Yes, Mr. Borden," Talmadge replied. "We're assigning our best man for this task. Ramsey, please make sure that Mr. Borden is escorted back to the jet." Ramsey nodded.
"Yes, Sir," he complied. "Mr. Borden, come with me please." Confused, Charlie was led out by Ramsey. He opened his mouth to protest, but Ramsey shut the door. "Let's go," Ramsey commanded.
*~*~*~*
6 DAYS EARLIER…
"You're actually gonna drink that?" Darien Fawkes asked, wrinkling his brow.
"A non-fat mocha latté with whipped cream? Yeah, I'm gonna drink that," Bobby Hobbes retorted.
"Do you ever think that maybe it's the caffeine making you edgy? Not the paranoia," Darien scolded. He sipped his plain black coffee with one sugar.
"Whatever keeps me on my toes," Bobby shot back. He tipped his cup to his mouth and took a careful drink. "Ahhhh… Good to the last drop, my friend." Darien shook his head in disbelief. Instead he looked at the people walking by on the street. Hobbes had picked a rather up-scale café with tiny outdoor tables and even tinier chairs. Bobby fit almost perfectly on his chair, but Darien felt like his knees were reaching up to his chin. Suddenly Bobby's smile faded and was replaced by a look of surprise.
"What's wrong?" Darien asked.
"I think I just saw Viv," Hobbes replied. Darien turned around.
"I don't see her."
"No, she just went in the alley next to the café."
"That's strange. Does she live around here?"
"I don't know, but I think I'll go say hi."
"Are you sure you wanna do that?" Darien cautioned. Bobby paused.
"Yeah, I might as well. It'll show her I've moved on." He got up from his chair, and headed toward the alley. The thin blonde woman was ahead of him only by a bit.
"Viv!" Bobby called out. "Vivian! Hey, how—" A stranger turned around to face him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I knew you," he apologized sheepishly.
"That's quite all right," the woman replied smiling. Something about her smile struck Bobby as weird. Before he could say any more, he felt a swift prick in his neck. Bobby fell to his knees, clutching at his neck. He saw two feet stand before him; he lifted his head and found himself staring into Arnaud de Föhn's sneering face.
"Hello, Hobbes," Arnaud greeted. Bobby closed his eyes and fell forward. Two large men stepped out from behind Arnaud. "Pick him up and let's get out of here," he commanded them. One man picked up Bobby and threw him over his shoulder. The other, Arnaud's brother Huisclos, grabbed Arnaud by the arm.
"Are you going to kill him?" Huisclos asked.
"I might," Arnaud answered coyly. "Does that bother you?"
"No," Huisclos replied smirking. "I am no longer weak."
"Very glad to hear that," Arnaud said, proudly putting his arm around his brother. As they walked away, Arnaud dropped a small envelope on the ground.
*~*~*~*
Darien took a final sip of his coffee and looked at his watch. Hobbes had been gone for seven minutes. Seeing as how Hobbes tended to stumble while trying to say something heart-felt, Darien figured maybe the ex-wife had caused Hobbes to stutter this time. He got up and headed to the alley, fully intending to pull a blubbering or tongue-tied Hobbes away from an annoyed Vivian. He was surprised to find an empty alley. As he took a step forward, he noticed an envelope on the ground with his name printed on it. He looked around, saw no one, and opened it up. The note inside read:
Fawkes:
"All good things must come to an end." I don't know who said that and I don't care. This is your last chance to give me the gland. If you do not comply, your friend dies. Wait for further instructions. Au revoir.
Arnaud.
Darien's blood ran cold and it wasn't due to the Quicksilver. He got up, shoved the note in his pocket, and ran to his car. He sped off to the Agency. As soon as he got there, he ran to the Official's office.
*~*~*~*
That evening, Darien cautiously entered the abandoned church. Funny, Darien had secretly given some thought to going to church. However, this wasn't at all what he had in mind. A single candle burned in front of the pulpit, giving a faint glow to the dark sanctuary. Even though the Official had dispatched an undercover team of agents as back-up, Darien still didn't feel safe. As he got closer to the pulpit, he heard a series of dull pops coming from outside. He froze in his tracks.
"Come closer, Darien," Arnaud's voice called. Darien kept walking closer to the pulpit. Arnaud appeared, holding a gun to Hobbes' head. Hobbes had been beaten; a trickle of blood fell from his mouth. He looked weary and dazed.
"What did you do to him?" Darien demanded, moving forward. Arnaud shoved the gun into Hobbes' temple.
"Don't come any closer!" Arnaud warned. Darien stopped.
"You're not getting away with this, you know that, right?"
"I already have," Arnaud smirked. "The back-up team protecting you is dead. I hired snipers to ensure my plan." Darien's heart sank. This is it, he thought. This is the end for me. He then felt both his arms being grabbed. He Quicksilvered, hoping to confuse his handlers. Unfortunately, they only held him tighter. He shook off the Quicksilver. Arnaud threw Hobbes to the ground, and shot him in the leg and twice in the back.
"NOOOOO!!!" Darien screamed, struggling with the two men. "You bastard! You bastard!" Hot and angry tears streamed from his eyes. Arnaud calmly walked up to Darien, looked him straight in the eye, and slapped him.
"Let's go," Arnaud commanded his men. Darien looked back at his partner. Just before they headed out, he noticed Hobbes stir a bit. Darien almost smiled, then the door closed.
*~*~*~*
PRESENT…
Bradley Talmadge, Isaac Mentnor, Nate Ramsey, Olga Vukavitch, and Andrew "Hooter" Owsley assembled in the briefing room. Ramsey checked his watch, annoyed.
"He's late, Sir," he huffed to Talmadge.
"I'm aware of that, Ramsey," Talmadge replied, slight edge to his voice. Ramsey opened his mouth, but his rant was cut short as Craig Donovan and Frank B. Parker burst in.
"You're late," Ramsey snapped.
"Sorry, Nate," Frank apologized insincerely. "The game went a little longer than I'd expected."
"He lost a little more than he'd expected, too," Donovan chimed in, chuckling.
"Figures," Ramsey muttered.
"All right, let's get to the issue at hand," Talmadge announced. He picked up a remote control and aimed it at the large TV screen. A picture of a sad-faced and rather embarrassed Darien Fawkes appeared. "This is Agent Darien Fawkes, the first successful human subject of Quicksilver Project. A gland called Quicksilver was implanted at the base of his skull. The gland gave Agent Fawkes the ability to bend light around him, thereby rendering him invisible." A chorus of guffaws errupted from Frank, Donovan, Ramsey, and Hooter.
"No way, Talmadge!" Frank cried.
"Don't believe it?" Talmadge asked grinning. He clicked the remote again, this time showing what appeared to be file footage of Fawkes in a steel grey room. "Watch this." Darien rolled out of bed, and looked at himself in a mirror. He stretched his arms and his body, when suddenly a series of traps on the floor opened, releasing dozens of tarantulas and other large spiders onto the floor. Darien began to scream and run around the room. He banged on the door, yelling "Kevin!" He then noticed a silver liquid begin to trickle out of the pores of his skin. He ran to the mirror and saw the liquid flowing out from all over his body. "Oh my god, oh my god!" he panicked. Everyone in the briefing room leaned closer as they watched Darien's body become covered in silver and eventually disappear.
"Cool," Hooter whispered. Talmadge paused the screen.
"You of all people shouldn't have a problem believing the impossible," Talmadge said to Frank.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Frank agreed. "Hell, if I can go back in time, it's likely someone can go invisible." Talmadge forwarded to a picture of Bobby Hobbes.
"This is Agent Robert Hobbes," he continued. "He's a former Marine and FBI agent. His profile reports Hobbes to be an extremely expert agent, perhaps patriotic to a fault—"
"Sounds like your kinda guy, Ramsey," Frank joked. Ramsey rolled his eyes.
"—And his mental instability caused him to be thrown out of several cases in the FBI," Talmadge added.
"Sounds like your kinda guy," Ramsey shot back. Frank grinned.
"So what happened to them?" Dononvan asked.
"About six and a half days ago, Agent Hobbes was kidnapped by Arnaud de Föhn. De Föhn had previously worked with Darien's brother Kevin on the Quicksilver project to develop the gland. De Föhn secretly altered the gland. His purpose was to cause a chemical imbalance in the gland carrier after frequent use of Quicksilver."
"What would that accomplish?" Frank asked.
"The carrier would experience severe headaches, and eventually lose control of all his primal inhibitions," Talmadge explained. "In this state, the carrier requires an antidote to counteract the side effects of the gland."
"An antidote?" Olga repeated. "You mean, de Föhn wanted the gland to secrete a narcotic, making the carrier dependent."
"Right," Talmadge answered.
"A junkie puppet," Frank summed up gravely. "So that's what this Arnaud guy wants to use the gland for?"
"Yes, and we're going to make sure that doesn't happen," Talmadge announced.
"So when do we back-step?" Frank asked.
"Now," Talmadge answered.
*~*~*~*
Frank, in full Chrononaut suit, marched towards the Time Sphere. Mentnor joined him and handed him a disk.
"This contains all the files on the Quicksilver Project," Mentnor explained. "We've set coordinates for the Time Sphere to land here. You will fill us in on the mission and then this disk must be destroyed."
"Destroyed?" Frank repeated.
"It's a highly classified project. I've asked Mr. Owsley to rig a self-destruct mechanism to the disk after its initial use."
"That's very 'Mission: Impossible' of you. But OK," Frank agreed. He unzipped his suit and stuck the disk in his pocket.
"Frank!" Donovan called, running up beside him. "We've found the whereabouts of Agents Fawkes and Hobbes before the kidnapping. They were at a coffee house in San Diego. Hobbes followed a woman he thought was his ex-wife and that's how Arnaud caught him."
"Got it," Frank said.
"You'll have only a few hours left to stop it," Mentnor said. Frank turned and climbed the stairs leading to the Time Sphere's hatch. He entered, sat in the chair and buckled himself in. Three techs closed the hatch.
"Reactor at eighty percent," Olga's voice announced over the intercom. Frank flipped the switches, and held onto the steering lever.
"Reactor at ninety percent…"
"Reactor at ninety-five percent…"
"Reactor at one hundred percent… Engage!"
Frank pushed the main button, and the Sphere began to shake violently. Steam began forming inside the hatch; blue electric bolts encircled the Sphere. Frank pulled the lever back and closed his eyes. He then heard Olga's gentle voice say, "Godspeed, Mr. Parker."
*~*~*~*
6 DAYS EARLIER… AGAIN
"Don't tell me you're gonna drink that," Darien asked, wrinkling his brow.
"A double mocha latté with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles? Yeah, I'm gonna drink that," Bobby retorted.
"Do you ever think that maybe it's the caffeine making you edgy? Not the paranoia," Darien scolded. He sipped his plain black coffee with one sugar.
"Whatever keeps me on my toes," Bobby shot back. He tipped his cup to his mouth and took a careful drink. "Ahhhh… Good to the last drop, my friend. I would've gotten a non-fat latté, but for some reason I changed my mind." Darien shook his head in disbelief. Suddenly Bobby's smile faded and was replaced by a look of surprise.
"What's wrong?" Darien asked.
"I think I just saw Viv," Bobby replied. Darien turned around.
"I don't see her."
"No, she just went in the alley next to the café."
"That's strange. Does she live around here?"
"I don't know, but I think I'll go say hi."
"Are you sure you wanna do that?" Darien cautioned. Bobby paused.
"Yeah, I might as well. It'll show her I've moved on." He got up from his chair, and headed toward the alley. The thin blonde woman was ahead of him only by a bit.
"Viv!" Bobby called out. "Vivian! Hey, how—" A stranger turned around to face him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I—"
"Nooo!" a voice cried out, and Bobby felt himself being knocked to the ground.
"Get the hell off me!" Bobby hollered. He caught sight of the strange woman running off. He pushed his assailant off, who quickly scrambled to his feet and looked around the alley. Bobby pulled out his gun and aimed it at the stranger. The man looked at Bobby and the gun.
"I just saved your life and you wanna shoot me?" the man asked.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Bobby asked, clutching the gun tighter. The man reached in his jacket pocket and showed him a badge.
"Frank B. Parker, NSA," he said. Bobby looked at the badge.
"So?" Bobby retorted, still holding the gun. Frank sighed. Darien sauntered into the alley. He saw his partner aiming a gun at a strange man with a rather impressive nose.
"What's going on? Where's Vivian?" he asked, puzzled.
"That wasn't Vivian," Frank answered.
"Yeah, I try to say hi and the next thing I know this nut knocks me down. Claims he saved my life," Bobby barked.
"That woman was bait, Agent Hobbes," Frank said. Darien and Bobby looked at each other.
"How'd you know my name?"
"I told you, I'm NSA," Frank repeated.
"Why should that mean anything to us?" Bobby asked, finally putting his gun down and sticking it back in his holster.
"Look, I know about Arnaud," Frank explained. "This was a trap. He's out to get you, Darien."
"And why would he be after me?" Darien asked grinning.
"Because you're a special agent," Frank replied with a smirk. "And I stress special." He walked past them. Bobby and Darien followed.
"What do you know about me?" Darien pressed.
"Well, our sources tell us about a certain project you were involved in," Frank said nonchalantly. "You've really shown yourself… Oh no, wait—you haven't." He chuckled.
"So you know about Quicksilver," Darien sighed. "Wait a minute. What sources?"
"Sorry, that's classified," Frank answered.
"Who told you about all this? Was it Luke Lawson?" Darien asked. "Was it the Chinese?"
"Uh, no," Frank hesitated. "It's classified."
"Yeah, well, so is this project," Bobby chimed in, irked. "What's it to ya? Why's NSA involved?"
"Arnaud de Föhn is a threat to national security. He wants to rip out your gland and make a whole army of invisible soldiers, make a ton of money on the black market, yada yada."
"And you're here to protect us?" Darien asked.
"Sure am," Frank smiled.
"We don't need bodyguards," Bobby huffed.
"That's right, you tell him," Darien agreed. "Bobby Hobbes here is the best agent you can ask for."
"Oh yeah? Then how come you didn't see the decoy coming?" Frank challenged.
"How do we know you're not working for Arnaud?" Bobby countered.
"Makes no difference to me what you believe. Excuse me, I gotta make a phone call." Frank removed a cellular phone from his jacket and walked back to the alley. Making sure he was out of earshot, he made the call. "Conundrum. Let me speak to Bradley Talmadge." As Frank waited to be transferred, Arnaud peeked out from his hiding place. He was fuming at this stranger who had interfered with his scheme. And how did this man know him anyway? He listened closer. "Yeah, Talmadge, it's Parker. I was able to stop de Föhn from grabbing Hobbes, but where do I go from here? In the last timeline, Arnaud grabbed Hobbes, kidnapped Fawkes, and that was it. Should I make sure there's no Plan B?… I dunno, these guys are two tough nuts… Yeah, all right. I'll stick around." He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. He looked back at the empty place where he'd left Darien and Hobbes. Darien waved to him from a tan van that was speeding away.
"Aw, crap," Frank sighed, and ran after them. Arnaud stepped out from his hiding place.
"Timeline?" he asked aloud. His brother Huisclos and another large man joined him.
"What happened?" Huisclos asked. "I thought you said this plan was perfect!"
"It was! But I hadn't counted on an intruder. I have no idea who that man is, and yet he knew all about me and my plans."
"A psychic?" Huisclos guessed.
"No, he mentioned something about a timeline," Arnaud said, putting his hand thoughtfully to his chin. "I have an idea, should we run into this stranger again."
*~*~*~*
Frank got out of his car and ran up the steps to the entrance of the Department of Fish & Game. He rushed down the halls, and saw a door marked "The Official." He opened the door and came face to face with the whole Quicksilver Crew: Darien, Hobbes, a large older man, a prim younger man, and a very attractive blonde woman.
"Is this my welcoming committee?" he asked.
"This is the guy," Bobby said, pointing at Frank.
"That much I guessed," the Official replied. "Mr. Parker—"
"Please, call me Frank."
"Mr. Parker, on behalf of the Agency, I thank you for rescuing my two agents. But I don't recall asking for outside assistance."
"Well, you got it anyway. My agency has strong intel on Arnaud de Föhn's plans to capture Agent Fawkes," Frank said, choosing his words carefully.
"And how did the NSA acquire this intel?" the Official asked gruffly.
"It's classified," Frank responded.
"You see?" Bobby yelled. "Everything's classified with this guy! What about us? No one's supposed to know about Quicksilver, either!"
"Well, we've had some unfortunate leaks," Eberts admitted. Bobby shook his head.
"Shut up!" the Official hissed.
"Look, I'm here and I'm here to help, so let's at least pretend to be friends," Frank suggested. He held out his hand to Bobby. Bobby suspiciously eyed Frank's hand and walked right past him.
"Prove yourself first," Bobby demanded.
"Fine," Frank agreed. He looked at the Keeper and smiled broadly. "And you would be?"
"I'm Claire," she said, hesitantly shaking his hand. "I'm Darien's Keeper."
"A Keeper? Wow, Fawkes, nice!" Frank smirked. Claire stopped smiling and removed her hand from his grasp.
"It's not like that," she retorted. "I'm his doctor."
"Ah, a doctor," Frank repeated flirtatiously. "Beautiful and brilliant. I got no problem with that."
"All right, Parker. Knock it off," Bobby snapped. "She's our Keeper." Claire gave Bobby a dirty look.
"OK, you two dogs," Darien chided. "Stop trying to piss on the Keeper and mark her as your property."
"Darien!" Claire yelled. She put her hands on her hips and stormed out.
"Good going, hot shot," Bobby growled.
"That's enough!" the Official shouted. "Mr. Parker, I want to speak to your superiors to make sure you are who you say you are. And I want to know how and why the NSA got involved."
"No problem. Here, call Bradley Talmadge," Frank complied, removing a card from his jacket, and handed it to the Official.
"So how do you think you're gonna protect me from Arnaud?" Darien asked.
"I'm working on it," Frank said.
"Aw, see? This guy don't even got a plan," Bobby protested.
"Look, we foiled Arnaud's original plan, right? Now we just gotta keep our eyes open."
"In the meantime, let's get out of here," Darien suggested.
"Sure," Frank agreed. The three agents headed out.
*~*~*~*
"So how do you do it?" Frank asked Darien as they drove along in the van.
"Do what?" Darien asked.
"You know, the invisible thing."
"Oh, that. Well, it's hard to explain. It involves control, you know. I had to learn how to use it. Sometimes I go invisible involuntarily."
"Cool." Frank was quiet for a moment. "Hey, is there a dog track around here?"
"Yeah, less than a mile from here," Bobby said.
"Let's go."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! I thought you were supposed to be protecting us!" Bobby scoffed.
"And who says being a bodyguard can't be fun?" Frank protested.
"Yeah, c'mon, Hobbes," Darien agreed. "Just one race, just one." Bobby steered quietly.
"OK, fine. Just one game."
*~*~*~*
Arnaud and Huisclos sat at a table overlooking the race track. Huisclos checked his watch. Arnaud sipped his martini.
"I don't understand why you're wasting your money here," Arnaud scolded.
"Because all your gland-stealing plans aren't making any money!" Huisclos shot back. "Now shut up! The game will start in three minutes." Arnaud sighed. He looked around and saw three men taking their seats about six tables away from them. Arnaud grabbed his brother's arm and lowered his head to the table.
"It's them," he whispered. Huisclos turned his head and saw Darien, Hobbes, and the stranger several yards away.
*~*~*~*
"So how much did you put down?" Darien asked.
"Five thousand," Frank answered.
"What?!" Darien and Bobby cried in unison.
"She's a sure bet!" Frank explained.
"Yeah, what's her name?" Darien asked.
"Little Orphan Annie," Frank replied. "I believe in her."
"Yeah, whatever," Bobby smirked.
"Story of my life," Frank mumbled. "Hey, I'm gonna hit the head. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." He got up and walked to the men's room. Five minutes later, as he was washing his hands, he noticed in the mirror that a large middle-aged man with a stubbly beard was staring at him. He turned off the faucet and looked at the guy. "Can I help you?"
"No, monsieur," he replied in an accented voice. A slim, younger man suddenly joined them. Something in this second man's icy blue eyes seemed to hold an evil glimmer. He looked at Frank and sneered.
"Your name is Parker, is it not?" he asked calmly, in a similar accent.
"Maybe," Frank answered, moving slowly to the right.
"Perhaps you can tell me who you work for."
"And if I don't?"
"All right, then. Let me get right to the point. How do you know me?"
"You're Arnaud de Föhn."
"The very same. You know, I saw you this afternoon on the phone."
Frank froze. "What did you hear?"
"Not enough," Arnaud answered. "Grab him." Huisclos lunged toward Frank. Frank punched him in the stomach; Huisclos grunted, but recovered quickly. He grabbed Frank's arm, twisted it behind his back, and slammed him against the wall. Arnaud removed a syringe from his pocket, the one he'd been saving for Hobbes, and stuck it in Frank's neck. Frank yelled, and eventually stopped resisting.
"Little prick!" Arnaud said, disgusted.
*~*~*~*
"Parker's taking too long," Bobby stated tensely.
"So?"
"So? If he's protecting us, he ought to know better."
"Let's go get him then," Darien sighed. He and Bobby headed to the men's room. They looked around and saw no one. "Parker?" Darien called. Bobby sighed and looked at the floor. He bent down and picked up a small, long plastic cap.
"I'd say someone kidnapped our bodyguard," Bobby said, holding up the cap.
"Is that what I think it is?" Darien asked.
"It's a needle cover."
"Aw, crap. Only one person."
*~*~*~*
Frank opened his eyes and found himself tied to a chair. He looked to his left and saw Arnaud lounging comfortably on a couch. His broad wicked smile unsettled Frank.
"How do you feel?" Arnaud asked.
"I got a headache," Frank muttered.
"Yes, I would expect that to be a side effect."
"Side effect of what?"
"I have injected you with a truth serum."
"Oh no, not again."
"Again? Someone has done this to you before?"
"Yeah, Russians."
"OK, then. Let's get started." Arnaud held up Frank's badge. "Are you Frank B. Parker?"
"Yes," Frank answered reluctantly.
"And you work for the NSA?"
"Yes."
"And what is that 'Conundrum' name I heard you use?"
"It's my code name."
"Code name?" Arnaud repeated. Frank took a deep breath. He fought to hold back all the secrets, but the urge to spill everything was too strong.
"After I complete my mission, I call my superiors using that name."
"What is the nature of your missions?"
"I time-travel."
Arnaud's eyes widened. "You time-travel."
"Yeah, but I only go back in time. I can't go forward in time."
"How far back can you go?"
"I can only go back seven days."
"And how did you acquire the technology to time-travel?"
"We used alien technology from the remains of the Roswell crash." Frank blinked and tried to shake off the impending drowsiness. Arnaud pursed his lips. He picked up the glass tube that held his truth serum.
"Merde!" he screamed, smashing the tube against the wall. "This stupid thing doesn't work!" Frank began to chuckle.
"You don't believe me?"
"Aliens?!" Arnaud yelled. "You expect me to believe that little green men gave you a time-travel machine? Such a thing is not possible! No, it seems my truth serum is flawed!" He angrily paced the room.
"Well, you know, truth is stranger than fiction," Frank smirked. Arnaud slapped him in the face.
"Huisclos!" Arnaud yelled. The larger brother ran in. "Get rid of him. He's not cooperating." Huisclos untied Frank and dragged him out of the room. He took the dazed agent outside and threw him on the ground. He removed a gun from his jacket and aimed it at Frank. As his finger began to pull the trigger, he was suddenly knocked to the ground. He struggled with the invisible attacker until he looked up and saw the face of Bobby Hobbes. Bobby made sure Huisclos didn't miss the gun in his face.
"All right, let him go, Fawkes," Bobby ordered. Darien shed his Quicksilver as he got to his feet. Huisclos slowly got up.
"Where's Arnaud?" Bobby demanded.
"Probably gone," Huisclos answered smugly.
"What happened to you?" Darien asked. "I thought you were the nice one. Didn't jail reform you?""No, it made me vengeful," Huisclos retorted. "Take me back if you want, but I guarantee Arnaud will return for me." He looked into Darien's eyes. "And he will return for you, too." Darien looked away.
"Can somebody please help me?" Frank's muffled voice pleaded. Darien helped Frank stand up. Just then, three separate cars pulled into the driveway. The Official, Eberts, and the Keeper got out of one car. Talmadge, Donovan, Ramsey, and Olga got out of another, and a group of suited agents got out of the third car.
"Oh, Ramsey. I never thought I'd be so glad to see you," Frank cried, throwing himself into Ramsey's arms.
"Oh please, Parker!" Ramsey groused. He pushed Frank aside, who stumbled. Olga ran up to him.
"Mr. Parker, are you all right?" she asked, concerned.
"Yeah, but I got a shot of truth serum," he said drowsily. Olga looked around and put her hand on his mouth.
"You'll need to keep your mouth shut, then," she warned. Frank giggled.
"Who are all these people?" the Official asked Darien.
"Oh, them. They're Parker's crew," Darien answered. Donovan and Ramsey grabbed Huisclos and handcuffed him. The agents from the third car escorted him away. Talmadge walked up to the Official.
"I assume you're the one known as the Official?" he asked.
"That's right," the Official answered.
"Bradley Talmadge," he said, holding out his hand. The Official hesitantly shook it.
"I suppose thanks are in order," the Official said, grinning slightly.
"Sure thing," Talmadge answered. Meanwhile, Bobby walked over to Frank and the lovely redhead by his side.
"Parker, aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend?" Bobby asked smiling.
"Oh, right. Bobby Hobbes, this is Olga Vukavitch. Olga, this is Hobbes." Olga held out her hand, Bobby took it and gently kissed it. Olga smiled.
"How do you do?" Bobby purred.
"I'm fine, thank you. Nice to meet you, Mr. Hobbes," Olga said.
"Please, call me Bobby," he said, still holding her hand. Frank rolled his eyes.
"OK, Hobbes, so you're smoother than me," Frank complained. "Now let go of her hand." Olga guffawed.
"I suppose that's the truth serum talking?" she guessed. Frank hung his head. The Keeper walked over to join them.
"Is Bobby bothering you?" she asked Olga.
"No, not at all," Olga replied graciously.
"Well, that's a miracle," the Keeper said, folding her arms across her chest.
"C'mon, Keepie, don't be like that," Bobby teased. "You know you love me." The Keeper rolled her eyes.
"Do you see what I put up with?" the Keeper retorted.
"Oh please! I put up with much worse!" Olga cried.
"Yes, I know," the Keeper said, looking pointedly at Frank. She looked back at Olga. "My name is Claire."
"I'm Olga." She held out her hand and Claire shook it.
"Would you like to get a coffee with me?" Claire offered.
"I'd love to," Olga accepted. The two walked away, giggling and chatting. Frank sighed.
"There go two gorgeous, intelligent women on a male-bashing quest," Frank groaned. He heard a faint ringing. He removed the cell phone from his jacket and answered it. "This is Parker… Yeah, that's me…" He listened quietly, and his face began to flush. "Are you serious?… Thanks." He hung up and slowly put his phone away. Darien joined him and Bobby.
"What's going on?" Darien asked.
"Um, that bet I made today…" Frank began.
"Don't tell me you lost five grand!" Bobby snickered. A large smile spread across Frank's lips.
"Nope. Little Orphan Annie came through!" he shouted. Bobby's jaw dropped. Frank whooped, jumped on Darien and hugged him. Darien laughed.
"So I guess drinks are on you?" Darien suggested devilishly.
"Sure thing!" Frank agreed.
*~*~*~*
Later that evening, the two Projects—Project Quicksilver and Project Back-Step—gathered in a sports bar to celebrate Arnaud's foiled scheme and Frank's amazing and over-due fortune. Thankfully, the effects of the truth serum had worn off, so all the secrets were safe from Darien & Co. Frank invited Darien and Bobby to join him and Donovan at their table. The two agents brought their beers over and sat down.
"This is my main man, Craig Donovan," Frank said to Darien and Bobby. Donovan said hi and shook hands with the two agents.
"So, Frank," Darien began. "What's your story?"
"What do you mean?" Frank asked taking a swig from his beer bottle.
"How long have you worked for the NSA?"
"Oh, that. Well, I've only been working with them for a couple of years. I was a Navy-SEAL before that. Craig, too."
"You?" Bobby asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah. CIA, too."
"I'm impressed," Bobby admitted.
"Tell 'em the other place you were at, Frank," Donovan smirked. Frank shot his friend a good-natured dirty look.
"Ever hear of a place called Hansen Island?" Frank asked. Bobby nearly snorted out his beer.
"Hansen Island?" he repeated laughing. "And you think I'm crazy, Fawkes!"
"What's Hansen Island?" Darien asked.
"It's the CIA nuthouse," Bobby explained grinning.
"Yeah, all right. Let's not get into it," Frank complained. "It's not a happy memory." Ramsey walked up to their table.
"We ship out in 20 minutes, Parker," he warned sternly. "Don't try anything funny. That goes for you too, Donovan." Frank glared at Ramsey; Donovan just smiled. Ramsey marched off.
"What was that all about?" Darien asked.
"What can I say? I'm a special agent too," Frank sighed. "So special I have to be kept locked up."
"I can relate," Darien remarked quietly.
"What, because of the gland?" Frank asked. Darien nodded. "Here's to nuts and caged animals." They all held up their beer bottles and cheered.
"I guess you're not so bad after all, my friend," Bobby said, holding out his hand. Frank smiled and shook it. He got up, removed some bills from his wallet, and tossed them on the table.
"Let's go, Craig," Frank said reluctantly. Donovan got up and they both said good-bye. Darien rose from his seat.
"Hey, Frank," he said. "I didn't get to thank you. You know, for helping us out."
"No problem. If you ever need help, call on me."
"I'll do that."
"But don't be too surprised if I'm already a step ahead of you." Frank grinned, Darien raised an eyebrow. The NSA crew waved good-bye and exited the bar. Darien sat down again.
"So now it's just you and me again," Darien said to Bobby. "A caged animal and a nut."
"I guess it was kinda nice having another partner," Bobby remarked.
"What are you talking about? You complained the whole time!"
"Yeah, well…" Bobby shrugged. "Now we understand each other."
"Yeah, we really bonded," Darien snorted. He picked up his beer bottle and held it up. "To kindred spirits."
"To kindred spirits," Bobby echoed. They clinked their bottles together and took a final swig.
THE END