The first thing Juliet noticed was that the cars below were swerving desperately. Then, the fact that the building hadn't exploded so much as gone down in a fiery crash.
"Well, this could be a bit of a problem." She muttered. Ian nodded, silent. "You alive there, buddy?"
"I remember reading something about this….it was a couple years ago, a demonology book, by Roxanne Nightingale." Ian shrugged. "Never mind."
"We should probably check it out, shouldn't we?" Juliet sighed. Please say no, please say no….
"Probably." Damn. "Let's check with Leon first, check the news, figure out exactly what the hell is going on here." The door slammed open, slammed shut, and the stairs creaked as two sets of anxious feet skittered down. Peter had-somehow- managed to get out of his uniform and was already in a lab coat, flittering around the medical room, adjusting this, fixing that. Juliet paused.
"You see anything up there?" Peter asked without looking up.
"You'd think we would've, right?" Juliet chuckled. "Let's just hope it was nothing demonic this time."
"You say this time like there was a last time." Peter frowned.
"Las Vegas, in 2000. I'll tell you later!" she called, already heading downstairs. The sleeping quarters were empty; accept for Dash, who still lay puking his guts out. The kitchen was crowded, the entirety of the team huddled around the television on the counter.
"Where the hell were you?" Jake snapped. Juliet held up her hands defensively.
"Down, boy. On the roof. And no, we did not see anything, so don't ask." Juliet sighed, shuffling in between Shizue and Ryan to see the newscaster; the young blonde was trying to look solemn, but obviously years of smiling through all the happy-go-lucky news was coming back to bite her.
"In other news, an abandoned apartment complex has literally imploded on East 47th. Law enforcement and fire department are on their way to hopefully rescue anyone caught in the fallout…" she trailed off as Leon turned to volume down.
"In other news, I'm quite obviously a slut who really needs a new job because I'm smiling at the end of the world!" Ryan spat. The others turned to stare at him.
"Somebody's cranky." Arlo commented.
"This is going to seem really stupid to ask right now, but….." Juliet raised a hand slowly. "What about the Inspector?"
"I've got Wiles up in a guestroom. Hopefully he'll stay there." Leon shook his head. "What do you guys think this'd rank as?"
"Minor Class Seven Outbreak." Ian cut in. "Textbook definition. Human law enforcement will probably take care of the fire, and we can check the sensors for anything afterword." Shizue was already at the computer screen, Juliet peering over her shoulder.
"Guys?" Shizue looked up. "We might have a bit of a problem."
Ben handed over a ten-dollar bill and a bag of chips, as well as two waters, to the clerk at the 7-11.
"My brother's homeless." The man said, obviously distraught.
"That's rough." Ben bounced on his heels.
"Last time we talked he said he found an abandoned apartment to stay in." The man was growing more anxious by the second.
"Uh-huh…."
"The whole state should shut down just out of respect..." The man mumbled. Ben's head shot up.
"What?" he snapped.
"Dude, really? Do you not know what just happened to us?" The man-his nametag read Joe- frowned. "They're calling it a miss-placed bomb. Either a bad joke or a screwed up terrorist attack." Ben grabbed the food, waters, and threw down an extra ten.
"Give that to your brother!" he yelled over his shoulder, walking as fast as he dared out of the store. I guess Larry was right. He thought.
"Ben!" Larry waved his hand from across the lot. "Did you hear about the…"
"Apartment complex? Yeah." Ben handed him a water bottle. "Now that I'm completely coherent, let's go talk to the District Four team, eh?"
"There's just one problem, Benito…" Larry grinned nervously. "I maybe sorta-kinda forgot to get us a car." Smack. Ben's hand connected with the back of Larry's head.
"You idiot! You fucking idiot!" He roared. Larry swatted the next slap away, cringing. "No car, my funds aren't gonna last forever, and this is the worst fucking attack Salem!"
"I like how you bring up something that happened over a hundred years ago. And just because it's starting out the same does not mean-" But Ben was already stalking away, jumping nervously as each car horn blared.
"Now who's the fucking idiot…?"
Bleep. Bleep. Bleepbleepbleepbleep…. Green spots were jumping erratically around on the screen; Ian flinched.
"That's not good." Jake whistled. Ian snorted.
"No shit, Sherlock." He spat. "So, I see the problem here, but exactly how do we fix it? I highly doubt that we're prepared for this." Ian's words were met with silence. "Oh, that's nice, guys. I'm gonna go call my mother." He nodded. Leon cleared his throat.
"I'm not sure-" Leon started. Ian didn't turn around, just gave a low grumble and continued to stalk downstairs. Ryan's footsteps echoed behind him; is he even trying to be quiet? Ian thought, sliding into a chair in the library. Books lay splayed open on the table in front of him.
"Boo?" Ryan tried lamely, poking Ian's shoulder.
"If you're going to try to follow me, at least be quiet." Ian sighed. There was a long silence. Ryan shifted restlessly, looking like he was in between throwing up and running away.
"How bad is it?" Ryan asked finally. Ian looked at him and shrugged. "You don't know?"
"Oh, I know how bad it is. I'm just not sure you want to." Ian swatted his head. "But it's bad, definitely." Ryan flopped into a chair beside Ian, propping his elbow up on the table and leaning his head on his palm.
"How bad?" He repeated.
"Take a guess." Ian was up and moving again, trailing his fingers along book spines. "Nightingale…Nightingale…" he muttered.
"Class Eight Outbreak?" Ryan threw out.
"Close, but no cigar." Ian shook his head. "Ah, here we go." He snatched a book from the shelf. Where was it again…. He thought, returning to his seat and flipping through pages.
"Ian!" Ryan complained, for once sounding exactly like the fifteen-year-old boy he was. "Just tell me." Ian continued flipping pages. Ryan groaned. "Should I just ask Juliet?"
"She won't tell you either." Ian shrugged. "Partly because I think I can hear her arguing with Wiles and partly because she, like me, just doesn't like what's going on." Ryan groaned.
"Please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No!" Ian snapped, glancing up. Ryan flinched away from the angry glare. "Just get out, okay?" Ryan opened his mouth to say something-probably a stupid retort- but Ian cut him off. "Get some sleep. It's four in the morning and you've been up all night."
"So have you." Ryan said.
"I've been chugging coffee by the gallon. Check on Dash and Harry for me!" Ian called as Ryan slunk out of the room. "Right…Where was I…?" The library was silent for the next few minutes, the turning of pages the only sound coming from the room itself. Upstairs, on the main level, Ian could hear the smooth, calm voice of Leon, the rise and fall of Jake's anxious voice, and the oh-so condescending, spiteful voice of the Inspector. Every now and then, he'd hear Juliet's voice leap out.
Where is it? Ian thought, turning the page to the last chapter. It was this book, I'm sure of it!
"Demonology book?" Ian snapped his head up at the voice from the bottom of the stairwell. Isabel stood leaning against the doorway, having changed out of her uniform and into a dark brown tee-shirt and jeans.
"Yeah. Didn't I just send Ryan out of here?" Ian cocked an eyebrow. "You should be sleeping."
"We all should be, but generally when an attack hits this close to home, we get nervous." She grinned. "Are you planning on going to bed any time soon?"
"Nah. Tonight was supposed to be my watch anyway…." Ian shook his head. "And I'm a little terrified of treading through the war zone that is our main floor."
"Jake's getting it pretty bad for the paperwork fuck up on his transfer; as far as I know, Jules is waiting her turn on death's row." Isabel chuckled. "Leon's playing referee, but unless he magically got a promotion to Chief, he's just putting a lid on a boiling pot."
"Ironic how the Inspector just has to come when our sensors are going haywire and we're losing our fucking minds over something that may or may not have been specifically targeted at us." Ian muttered. "You all right there, Izzy?" He prodded.
"I keep thinking about what happened in 2000, in Vegas. You remember, right?" Isabel asked. Ian nodded. "We thought it would be fine then, too."
"Vegas was five years, three partners and a reassignment ago. This is not Vegas and Leon isn't Eli." Ian snapped. "Besides, we were practically still kids then; Juliet and Jake were nineteen, I was barely twenty, and Leon..Okay, Leon was still an old, cranky man, but a younger old, cranky man." Isabel chuckled.
"Why demonology?"
"Hmm?"
"You're researching a demonology book two and a half hours after an explosion at six in the morning. Why demonology?" Isabel asked. Ian shrugged.
"After the explosion, I remembered something about I read. Ironically, I read it in Vegas, just before that particular incident." He explained. "I didn't want to tell Ryan, but…I'm pretty sure we're dealing with something similar."
"But not exactly the same?" Isabel frowned.
"No." Ian shook his head. "This is…" He stopped, staring behind Isabel's shoulder, at a hunched-over Jake. "You all right?" Ian asked, pushing back from the table. Isabel turned and also stared.
"Bastard fired me." Jake muttered. "I get my eyes almost clawed out bringing him here, and he fucking fires me."
"He can't do that." Ian stood up, shoving past Isabel in the doorway to stand before Jake. "There's a couple hours of paperwork, Leon needs to sign the form, Juliet and I need to give a testimony, there needs to be a trial….A meeting…something." Jake smiled bitterly.
"I fucked up in Vegas. I fucked up really bad. Leon protected me then; Wiles is making sure that's not happening. You protected me in the aftermath; Gabriel protected me where you couldn't… Wiles is shutting down every option." Jake shook his head. "Unless by some miracle Wiles changes his mind, or Leon pulls through with the Council, I'm out of here this afternoon."
"No reassignment?" Isabel asked.
"Juliet's working on that." Jake sighed. "I might be able to get District Eighty. If I'm lucky." Fucking hell… Ian thought. Wiles can't do this. Not legally. Not…
Wait.
"District Eighty is back home." Ian frowned. "They're putting you on guard duty?"
"If I'm lucky." Jake repeated. "Gabe's gonna kill me."
"Oh, most definitely." Isabel chuckled. "You should probably get some sleep, before Gabriel start's grilling you on it."
"Couldn't sleep if I tried. Anyway, that's not the only reason I'm down here." Jake shifted nervously. "It's about Vegas."
"I'm not letting you take one of my men and just…throw him out like that!" Leon snapped. Juliet stared down at her hands. She should've been the one talking right now; she'd taken the role, after all. She did the paperwork with Ian, ran patrols…
She was the perfect little soldier, and she couldn't say a word to defend her twin.
"His transfer was always a problem. Ever since Las Vegas, he's been a problem!" Wiles snarled. "I'd be shocked if what happened five years ago didn't happen now!"
"Vegas was a mistake. We made wrong guesses. It happens." Leon shook his head. You're wrong there, Leon. Juliet thought. Vegas was a series of bad choices, nearly all of them made by Ian, Jake and I.
"…wouldn't feel better if his partner hadn't died." Juliet's head snapped up at Wiles' statement.
"That wasn't his fault!" She snarled at Wiles. "Blake screwed up his part in that plan; it didn't have anything to do with Jake!"
"It was his plan, was it not?" Wiles looked at her. Juliet sighed, shifting her weight nervously.
"As I'm sure Captain Nichols will tell you, it was a risky plan to begin with. I took out most of the risks in the beginning, Jake worked with what he had…There are some things you can't fix." She muttered. "Blake was in a downward spiral before that incident. And you're wasting time with this conversation, time we could be using to figure out what's going on with the sensors and why we're not out side looking for answers, I don't know. But please, Inspector, reconsider. I'd highly doubt this team would be what it is if we didn't have my asshole of a brother dogging us every step of the way."
"We're screwed, we're screwed, we're screwed!" Ben muttered, stalking the New York streets with his shoulders hunched. Larry was several feet behind him, casting sideways glances at the black, crouching shapes in alleys, giving off particularly distasteful odors.
"Ben…" He started. Ben ignored him, just continued to mumble about being stranded in New York with their teams believing they were each visiting each other. "Ben…" Larry tried again.
"What?" Ben whipped around. "I'm pissed at you! Stop trying to talk to me!"
"One, you're an idiot. B, I think District Four might be in a bit of trouble." Larry pointed to the shapes now on tops of buildings, flitting amongst the crowds of people, and still tucked into corners.
"No shit." Ben breathed.
"Oh, and I…uh…got an address…." Larry unfolded a piece of paper. "You know, where there base is." Larry swore he saw Ben's eye twitch.
"You…you…You know what? Never mind. Lead the way." Ben took a deep breath, steadying himself. Larry smiled, jogging on ahead. Ben followed, and after a few minutes the two were flat-out sprinting, dodging and shoving past people in their rush to reach the base.
"Here we are." Larry panted, skittering to a halt. The building was large, maybe five stories. Lights were on, and from the third floor the sound of a television was blaring. Loud voices came from the main level. "I guess this isn't the best time…"
"No. You dragged me here, so I'll be damned, if I'm waiting outside, in the cold, for another day!" Ben snapped, shoving past him to the front door and knocking loudly. The voices stopped abruptly.
"Captain, answer it." A harsh, male voice, sounding oddly like Marco Wiles. Ben shuddered at the memory of his first encounter with the Inspector.
"I…." A female voice.
"Do as he says, Juliet, and you may save your career." A softer, older voice, like a kindly old grandfather. Soft footsteps.
"Who is it?" The door wasn't opening; so their security was up, Larry noted.
"Lawrence Green and Benjamin Howard." Larry said quickly. The girl on the other side sighed.
"District?"
"Eight and seven, respectively."
"Credentials?"
"Open the door and we'll show you."
"Slide 'em through." The door opened a crack, and a hand slid just slightly out. Ben shrugged, clipping off his badge and handing it over. Larry did the same.
"Exactly what're two Executive Commanders doing here?" the hand slipped back out, the badges resting lightly on the palm.
"Open the door." Larry quipped. The door opened the rest of the way. A blonde woman stood in the doorway, eyes low. She couldn't have been more than twenty four, but the sharp gleam of the red badge on her shoulder claimed she was a Captain.
"Go on, then." She mumbled, opening her hand out and pointing into the building. Larry walked in but Ben…
Ben strutted.
"What about Vegas?" Ian folded his arms. "Okay, wait, get in the library, we'll talk there. I'll go get some coffee." He headed for the stairs. Jake snagged Ian's arm.
"Ian," he murmured, "something's wrong..."
"What?" Ian leaned closer. Isabel frowned at them, unable to hear what they were saying.
"I don't know…Just…Something..." Jake's face was stricken, panicky. "It's like my gut is telling me to get out of town, but my heart is telling me I can't."
"You're just paranoid." Ian flicked the side of Jake's head lightly. "You hit your head? Go see Peter."
"It's not that…" Jake started. Ian sighed, clapping one hand onto Jake's shoulder.
"We're fine. Vegas was a long time ago. I'll be back down to talk about it in a second." Ian promised. "You need anything?"
"No." Jake shook his head. You don't get it. He thought, staring after Ian as his friend went upstairs.
They never finished that conversation.