Disclaimer: Eric, Wes, Jen, Kim, Alex, Lucas, Trip, Katie and Nadira don't belong to me, they've been borrowed from BVE. No harm no foul no money made. The rest of this story, including Eric's back-story, Director Nechev, Marissa Detourney, Biocon (and all his pseudonyms) and Merck Taylor belongs to me. You're welcome to borrow, but please ask me first.

Please note: This chapter refers back to Scars and also, briefly, to A Cross To Bear -- you'll be able to follow events without having read either, but it may help you if you have done.

Thank you to Gamine, ScarletDeva, Selma, Ekat and Vanessa who've all had bits of this chapter worked off them at one point or another. Thank you, ladies, for helping me with a very challenging chapter.

Warning: While this is still PG-13 in rating, the first scene of this chapter contains disturbing imagery and allusions towards some very nasty stuff. Feel free to skip that scene -- and please do not flame me if you do choose to read it.

~*~

Max Force -- The Darkest Hour...

Jen wasn't sure what woke her.

She'd been soundly asleep, but something had gradually pulled her from that state. Now she lay in bed, listening. And there it was. A sound -- only a tiny one, but one that was so utterly wrong.

It was a whimper.

Not a shout, not a yell, not a scream, just a quiet moan of distress. But having identified it, Jen was at a loss. Where on earth would a sound like that be coming from? It was far too quiet to be coming from someone outside -- besides which, the house was set in its own grounds.

There was only one possible source.

The realisation was a creeping one, but when it finally hit, Jen was up and out of bed in a flash. She had once heard similar sounds from Alex, one night not long before Ransik was captured the first time. She had stayed over and they had been up half the night, talking through the future -- their future as it had been then. Later, she'd woken in the spare room to hear Alex crying out softly in his sleep. When she woke him, all he told her was 'It's nothing -- just a nightmare, you know?' Whatever it had been, it had clearly left Alex shaken... And now Eric was in a similar situation.

I have to wake him.

She entered Eric's bedroom, expecting to see him tossing and turning as Alex had been and was consequently surprised. Eric's whole body was rigid -- almost as though he was in some kind of restraints. Moonlight from the window now shone almost directly onto his face, highlighting the near mute snarl of pain etched into his expression. And then suddenly, his whole body jerked in response to some unknown stimulus and he screamed.

Jen's blood curdled at the sound. No human being should ever make that sound.

"Eric?"

The call evoked a response: "Myers, Eric. Master Sergeant. 569-34-9032."

What the heck? Jen took an involuntary step forward. "Eric -- wake up."

He gave another scream, then gasped, "Myers, Eric. Master Sergeant. 569-34-9032."

"Eric -- please. Wake up."

"Myers, Eric. Master Sergeant. 569-34-9032."

Damn it! "Eric!"

There was another, longer, even more pained scream. "M--yerzeric. M--asters--argent. 5--69-34-9--032."

He was shaking now, violently. Shock...Jen realised. Shit. I have to do something... "Eric -- it's a dream. It's not real."

He screamed yet again, this time the sound trailing off into gasped sobs. "M--m--yerzeric...m--'sters--argent...5--693--4--490--32."

The moonlight now highlighted his expression in even more ghastly detail. Tears of, Jen guessed, remembered pain were tracing paths across his cheeks while the snarl was now one of fear.

Then came the worst scream so far as. It was hoarse and raw; a shout of pure agony. After it had finished, it took several moments before he even had the breath to gasp his litany once more: " M--m--yerzeric...m--'sters--argent...5--693--4--490--32."

I have two choices, Jen decided, stepping closer to the bed. I can either stand back and hope he wakes up, or I can force him awake. That's no choice at all. She reached out, grabbed Eric by the shoulders and shook him, firmly. "Eric, snap out of it. It is just a dream."

With alarming suddenness, Eric's eyes were wide open and staring straight at her. But any relief Jen might have felt on seeing that faded as she felt his hands grip her round the waist.

"You bastard...you can't escape now..."

Jen had long enough to realise that Eric still wasn't actually awake -- and then she found herself being bodily flung across the room. She landed, hard, cracking her head against the wall beneath the window.

Black spots filled her vision and for several moments, Jen thought she was going to pass out.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit."

The chant, Jen realised, was coming from Eric. With agonising slowness, she forced herself to sit up. "You awake now?" she managed, seeing him now sitting upright on the bed.

He looked over at her, his expression plain in the moonlight. He looked like death warmed over. "Are you OK?"

"I'll live."

"I'm sorry...I...didn't know it was you."

Jen forced a smile onto her face. "Well I hoped it wasn't something personal."

Humour was the wrong way to go. Eric's expression mutated from tired and dismayed to full-blown anger. "What the hell are you doing in here anyway?" he yelled. "Or is respect for other people's privacy something else you don't have in the future?"

Jen swallowed. Even when Eric had been the arrogant jerk who had made the Rangers' lives miserable, she had never been actually scared of him -- she had just thought of him as a small-time bully. But now, here...

"Well?" he snapped.

"You were having a nightmare...I...thought..."

"You thought wrong."

Woozy, Jen managed to get to her feet. "I'm sorry. I don't like to see...or hear...my friends in pain. I'll leave you alone next time."

"Do that," he hissed. "There's the door," he added, pointing, "use it."

Jen stared at him, incredulous. "Of all the..."

"Get. Out."

"I really won't bother next time," Jen muttered and headed, unsteadily, out of Eric's room. I wish Wes was here...

~*~

Eric waited until he was sure that Jen had gone back to bed before slipping out of bed and padding across to the window. He'd deliberately picked a room with a view out over the bay, not for the aesthetics, but for the sense of freedom the view provided. It was that very sense of freedom he sought now, in an attempt to regain his equilibrium after the combination of the nightmare itself and what he had just done to Jen. But peace of mind and balance were not forthcoming.

Why did I do that? he wondered. Why the hell did I do that?

He punctuated the second thought by ramming his fist into the wall beside the window. The pain of bones jarring against one another seemed like a fitting punishment.

She was only trying to help.

He pounded the wall again. There was a sharp burst of pain as something went crack. Eric ignored it. He deserved it. He'd been so far out of line...

Congratulations, Myers. You've finally succeeded in pushing her away.

He leaned his forehead against the cool glass and closed his eyes.

What a mess.

But Eric wasn't sure what he was referring to.

~*~

Kimberly nursed the cup of coffee and stared at the yearbook Rocky had left with her. The coffee had gone cold hours ago, but she didn't care. Her attention was firmly rooted on the page of pictures in front of her.

"That's it," she finally murmured. "I'm sure that's it."

But what did it mean?

~*~

Jen couldn't remember an occasion when she'd had a worse night's sleep.

Her head ached from where it had connected with the wall. As a consequence, she'd been unable to get back to sleep, and had instead, spent the rest of the night lying in bed, listening. From what she'd been able to hear, Eric hadn't returned to sleep either. She'd heard him slip out of bed not long after she'd vacated his room, although to her surprise, she didn't hear him turn on the CD player again. She did hear him move around the room, though, as though he was pacing -- which he probably was, she realised.

As watery sunlight started to shine through the blinds on her window, she heard Eric leave his room and head downstairs. Sitting up, Jen glanced at her watch and realised it was now seven o'clock.

Time to get up.

But the prospect of facing Eric again was not one she relished. It was still fresh in her mind just how different he became when really and truly angry. This is silly, she chided. You know Eric isn't going to hurt you. Unfortunately, last night had amply highlighted that, in truth, she knew very little about him. Or what he would do.

There was a crash from downstairs, followed by loud and colourful cursing.

What the...?

Puzzlement overcame fear.

Jen climbed out of bed and headed downstairs, collecting her robe as she went -- she hadn't bothered with it when Eric's nightmare had woken her, but in the cold light of day...

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the cursing finally ceased, but it was followed by something that was somehow more disturbing: Nothing. Jen picked up her pace and entered the kitchen to find Eric sitting on the floor, leaning against the base of one of the work surfaces. His knees were drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around them, while his head rested against his knees.

"Can't even make a pot of coffee."

The words were barely audible and so filled with self-loathing that whatever anger Jen had left quickly evaporated. From the looks of things, Eric was doing a perfectly good job of beating himself up over what had happened without her saying a word. Then Jen's eyes fell on Eric's left hand. The whole of the back of his hand was an ugly explosion of bruising and misshapen lumps.

Jen hesitated for a long moment, debating what to say.

"I'm sorry." Eric's words took Jen by surprise.

"For what?" It was a silly question, and she knew it the second it left her mouth but there was no calling it back.

Eric slowly looked up. "Take your pick. Last night, this morning -- being a screwed up asshole?" He looked at his hands. "I'll be out of your way by..."

"Oh no you don't." Jen realised with a sudden clarity that Eric was planning to leave. "What are you running from?"

"I should have never said I'd help with this."

"Why?"

"I'm a liability."

"Bullshit," Jen retorted. Eric's head jerked up at that. "Now, you listen to me, Eric. You once told me that teamwork was seeing what needed to be done and doing it because you can do it. Are you telling me that you can't do this?"

Eric's shoulders sagged and he said nothing.

Jen moved into the kitchen proper and knelt in front of him. "Because if you are, then I'm going to have to call you a liar," she continued more gently. Again his head snapped up and for the first time, he met her gaze. She could see the question in his eyes. "Eric I know what you can do. I've seen you do it."

"Yeah," Eric retorted bitterly. "I can throw you across the room because I'm too damn out of it to know who you are." He looked away. "I could have killed you."

Jen nodded. "You could have," she agreed, keeping her voice even and calm. "But you didn't. 'What if' didn't happen -- and it won't happen. Trust me on that." He met her gaze once more. "You get one shot at me -- then I start tossing you around." Eric's eyes widened at that. "What? You don't think I can?"

He shook his head. "No -- just wondering why everybody threatens me with physical violence."

Jen resisted the temptation to smile just yet. "Because it's the only way to get you to listen. You're a stubborn cuss of a man, Eric Myers -- too stubborn for your own good sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" A watery smile crossed Eric's face. "I must be improving."

It was possibly the weakest attempt at humour Jen had ever heard, but she judged that if Eric was beginning to make jokes -- even weak ones -- things were improving. She smiled faintly. "No more talk about leaving -- you're not a quitter and Wes and I can't do this without you. The three of us are a team."

"The Three Musketeers, huh?" Eric suggested.

Jen grinned. "Something like that," she agreed. "Now -- you wanna tell me what the deal with your hand is?"

For a long second, Jen thought Eric was going to try and fob her off. "I punched the wall," he admitted.

"Do I need to fix a dent in the wall as well?" Jen asked, getting to her feet. Eric said nothing and said it sheepishly. "If I'd brought a medi-kit with me from 3000, I could fix you up here and now." She offered him a hand up. "As it is..."

"It's a trip to the emergency room," Eric finished, resigned.

~*~

Alex frowned at all the data being displayed by the various datapads on his desk. There was no other answer -- much as he would like to think otherwise.

Did she know?

He wished he could say that the question was unworthy of him -- that he knew her better than that. But he couldn't. The deeper into this mess he had dug, the less he felt he knew.

Biocon. A mutant who died in a Time Force shoot out in 2981 but no body was ever recovered because the building Biocon had been holing up in had exploded.

Jack Scotts. He too had died in a shoot out -- in 2992. Unlike Biocon, though, a body had been found and buried.

Scott Jackson. A cleaner at Precinct 516 who was hired by Merck Taylor -- the then precinct captain.

John Schott. The man credited with killing Biocon, who also happened to be the first on the scene at Shendraville, Biocon's notorious crime.

But Biocon wasn't dead. Jack Scotts' grave was empty. Scott Jackson disappeared at the same time as Merck Taylor escaped into the past. John Schott disappeared not long after killing Biocon in 2981 and strangely, no-one ever looked for him. Even stranger, the holograph they had on file for John Schott had become irredeemably corrupted.

What're the odds that if it wasn't, it would match up, allowing for ageing, to the holograph we do have for Scott Jackson? Alex wondered.

And that holograph of Scott Jackson... Well, Trip was still doing the analysis on the two images, but Katie had already identified it. It was Jack Scotts.

Jack Scotts, John Schott, Scott Jackson...Biocon.

Who was it that was protecting him? Someone had to have been for this not to have come to light at the time. Someone highly placed. Someone powerful. Someone with something to hide.

Nechev's predecessor sprang to Alex's mind -- the one who had covered up the fact that the much celebrated Shendraville survivor wasn't from 2980, never mind Shendraville -- but that didn't feel right. He'd been in on it -- that much was clear -- but he wasn't the only one.

There was someone else.

Nadira said there was a blackmail plot. That was probable -- but what? Or who?

Alex leaned forwards to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk. If Biocon...Scotts...whatever the man's name actually was... If he was blackmailing someone still... If the Shendraville massacre was as a result of a blackmail demand not being met...

Alex felt sick to the pit of his stomach.

Too many ifs. Too many questions. Not enough data -- and time feels like it's running out.

~*~

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait for you?" Jen asked as Eric slid out of the SUV.

"Yes," Eric replied, firmly. "Unless you have a really burning desire to sit here for three hours while I fill out forms, get x-rayed and, probably, get stuck into plaster?"

"Three hours?" Jen echoed.

"I'm not about to die. They'll see me when it's convenient for them, not me. Besides -- didn't you want to scout around Del Oro Bay this morning?"

Jen sighed. Eric had a point. "True -- but...what about you?"

Eric gave a lopsided smile. "Jen, I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself. But if it makes you feel any better," he continued, unclipping his cell phone, "take this. That way, when I get done, I can call you for a ride back to the house." He started to hand her the device then stopped. "You do know how to work one of these?"

Jen stared. "Eric, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Just checking," he said hastily.

Jen grinned. "You're too easy."

Eric glared at her and dropped the cell phone on the now empty passenger seat. "I'll see you later."

Jen giggled. I really shouldn't wind him up like that, she mused, as she watched him enter the emergency room of Del Oro Bay hospital. But it's far too easy. She put the SUV into drive and started out of the hospital's parking lot, heading for downtown Del Oro Bay.

~*~

"Major Collins?"

Alex looked up from the datapad he was studying to see Marissa standing in the doorway of his office.

"Lieutenant Walker's arrived for her briefing and Squad Leader Regis is also here."

Damn -- Trip was early. That was not good. "Better send them both in."

"Sir."

Marissa vanished and, moments later, a surprised looking Trip and a mutinous looking Katie entered his office. Before going any further, Alex activated the privacy lock.

"Katie, I'll explain everything in a moment," he promised, "but since Trip's here half an hour early..."

"I have bad news," Trip finished, nodding.

"Just once I'd have liked to have been wrong," Alex mumbled. "OK -- Trip, hit me. What's Nadira uncovered?" Katie's eyes widened at the name but she made no comment.

"She reported in early," Trip explained. "Arachna knows."

Alex put his head in his hands and groaned. "Knows what?" he asked, although he had a nasty suspicion he already knew the answer.

"Everything."

That startled Alex and for the first time, he thought there might be a ray of hope. "Everything?" He looked up to see Trip giving a half smile.

"I have some good news as well," the Xybrian officer explained. "Arachna knows what Biocon's plan is."

"Biocon?" Katie exclaimed, joining the conversation.

Alex nodded. "Biocon," he agreed. "And yes, I know he's supposed to be dead." Katie nodded and subsided. Alex turned back to Trip. "Nadira's sure about this?"

Trip nodded. "Everything she's dug up in Forgotten District points to Biocon having a long term plan -- which we knew already. And it also all points to Arachna's information web being involved -- which is almost certainly how Taylor knew about Captain Logan's operation to trap Ransik."

Katie's eyes widened at that, but she said nothing. "I don't know whether to be relieved about that last bit or not," Alex muttered. He frowned for a few moments and came to a decision. "Time we all knew where we stand on this. Trip -- can you go and collect Nadira and bring her here for the 1000 hours meeting?"

Trip nodded, a little startled. "Sure."

"Privacy lock cancel, authorisation Juliet red two."

"Privacy lock deactivated," the computer announced.

Alex sighed. "Thanks Trip -- and if you can ask Marissa to come in for a moment?"

Trip nodded. "Yes, sir." With that, Trip left the office.

Moments later and Marissa entered. "Sir?"

"I need you to contact Director Nechev of Temporal and Captain Logan of Crime and invite them to the meeting at 1000 hours," Alex explained. Marissa looked startled. "I know it's short notice, I'm sorry. And please indicate to them that it's urgent."

Marissa nodded, still looking startled. "Yes, sir."

Once she had left the office again, Alex reactivated the privacy lock.

"What the hell is going on here, Alex?" Katie asked as soon as the computer had given confirmation of the lock.

Alex gave a sigh. "Like I said to you yesterday, we are deep in the shit -- and getting deeper by the second."

TO BE CONTINUED...