February 3, 1922, 4:05 PM
"This can't be happening…" Anna mutters to herself as she rests on the office sofa, icing her aching hand; when Fink had frantically confirmed her worst fears about the destination the Lutece Device was set to, Anna just snapped.
She'd already been furious with the little weasel for taking advantage of her father as he suffered from Tear sickness, and learning that Fink may have put the entire city at risk by doing the one thing Rosalind Lutece had warned against pushed Anna over the edge. She'd balled her hand into a fist and lashed out as fiercely as she could, catching Fink square on the jaw and knocking the man out cold. But here's the kicker; her hand also feels like she damn near broke something.
"You doing alright, Miss DeWitt?"
"I'm fine, officer. Thanks for your concern." Anna smiles up at the police officer, the clean-shaven young man looking like he's fresh out of school; she'd called Captain Slate after knocking Fink out, and now a handful of police officers have occupied this section of Fink's factory. For now, the police have taken the horrid industrialist into custody, though more than a few of them had stopped to stare at Booker.
"And Slate's due to arrive shortly…" The thought draws a grimace across Anna's face, the junior officer giving her a worried look before she waves him away.
"Young miss!"
"Speak of the devil…" Climbing to her feet, Anna manages a smile as Captain Cornelius Slate comes barging through the office door, the elderly man moving quickly despite his age. "It's good to see you, Captain."
"Always a pleasure, Anna… but for God's sake, what's going through your head? An injured hand is the least that could happen to you, sneaking about a place like this on your own!" Slate brings a hand up to cover his good eye as he shakes his head.
"I'm fine, and I didn't come alone." Anna smiles back at Slate, taking the bag of ice from her hand and testing it slowly, "See? All better."
"So I see… I heard you brought along a cousin or some such. Didn't know you and Booker had kin…"
"Heh… kin, huh?" Booker's voice stops Slate cold, and now Anna brings a hand up to cover her eyes and shakes her head; her father's other self steps around the Lutece Device, Booker having been leaning against the room's far corner to avoid any more attention. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Slate."
"B-Booker…?" Slate stammers as his one blue eye goes wide. But to his credit, the old soldier manages to regain his composure after only a moment, he quickly shaking his head and barking at the police officers, "Everyone out, right now!"
It takes a moment or two for the handful of officers to drop what they're doing and depart, and Anna can only glance back and forth between Booker and Slate, the former standing beside the Lutece Device with his arms crossed while the latter wears an expression of disbelief and utter surprise. "Captain, I can explain…"
"Maybe you can, Miss Anna, maybe… but I'd like to hear it from your… 'cousin'…" Slate starts the moment the last of his men have left the office and the door's closed behind them, his gaze fixed on Booker, "You… you're not the Booker I know, are you."
"Not exactly." Stepping away from the Lutece Device, Booker uncrosses his arms and shrugs, "There's a Slate where I come from, too… still got both his eyes, and his hair."
"Captain!" Anna grabs ahold of Slate's shoulder, getting the old soldier's attention, "We don't have time for this; listen, this Booker's helping me find my father, and now…" Anna falters, and she needs a moment to take a breath and compose herself, "We need to go through that, and when we do… I'd like you to dismantle it, take it back to the Lutece Lab…" She points to the Lutece Device, not taking her gaze from Slate for even a second.
"Dismantle it?! How do you figure you'll be getting back then?"
"We'll find a way. Booker's actually quite good at this sort of thing." Grinning up at Slate, Anna tries to appear confident despite feeling anything but, "My father's on the other side, and it's best that just the two of us go after him. Fink… the weasel put us all at risk with this machine, it needs to be taken apart.
"… alright, little miss…" Nodding slowly, Slate reluctantly agrees before turning back to Booker, "Corporal DeWitt! I'm putting Anna's safety in your hands. She gets hurt, and we'll be having words."
With that, Slate turns and marches out the door, leaving Anna alone with Booker and the Lutece Device. "The man never changes… still half a fool, half a hero." Booker shakes his head, turning to Anna once he's finished, "Anna, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Don't have much choice…" Retrieving the cap she'd used to hide her features, Anna pulls it on as Booker returns to the Lutece Device's control panel, "I'm alright… I just never thought I'd be going to another Columbia…" Anna frowns as she stuffs her loose ponytail into the cap to further conceal herself.
"Never imagined it myself, much less twice in one day." Gripping the lever on the panel, Booker glances over to Anna, "You ready for this?"
"I am." The Tear bursts into existence a second later, Anna having to stifle a yelp; Tears themselves aren't much cause for concern to Anna, she deals with them via the Array at home frequently. But it's where this Tear leads that's troublesome, and she has to take a deep breath as she and Booker step up to the shimmering portal. "Well, here goes nothing…" A chuckle comes from Booker as they step through, Anna playing with her ponytail nervously as they go.
Booker's chuckle fades with the closing of the Tear, the ex-Pinkerton finding himself surrounded by dust covered boxes in a dark storeroom. A quiet cough comes from his left, Booker glancing over to Anna to catch her covering her nose with her sleeve, the older counterpart of his daughters recoiling a moment later; they're both still clad in their stolen workers garb, neither outfit smelling particularly pleasant.
"Where are we?" Grimacing, Anna glances up at him as she whispers.
"I'd imagine we're in the same place, just this Columbia's version of the room." Peering through the gloom, Booker spots the door after a few seconds, motioning for Anna to follow as he creeps towards it. "Let's get out of here."
The door opens into a brightly lit cavernous room just as in the other Columbia, and Booker groans softly as he steps out into the light; the hallway's the same as all the other's he's seen in Finkton and Fink's factory, the yellow orange walls and brass pipes reminding Booker of all the other occasions he'd visited this place, albeit in different Columbias entirely.
"So… where should we start?" Anna steps up beside him, she pulling her cap low to hide her face, "I… I can't imagine where my father could have gone…"
"Really…" Something in Anna's voice tells Booker she's hiding something, the former False Shepherd narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her. But this isn't the time or place, "Guess we should ask around, see if anyone's noticed a strange fella wandering about. Your father can't have been here for more than a few hours."
"I hope you're right…" Nodding slowly, Anna sticks close as Booker starts across the factory floor. It doesn't take long for the two of them to find some signs of life; the layout is much the same as in the other factory they'd made their way through, the pair finding several workers in the next room, clustered around an assembly line. A dirty calendar on the wall shows it's November, 1913.
"Hey, buddy." Booker calls out without warning and approaches the closest, Anna falling a half step behind in surprise, "You see anyone strange around here lately? Older guy, graying hair, dark suit?"
"I didn't see nothing, friend." The grungy worker doesn't even look up from his station, and Booker feels a scowl coming on; Fink's personal 'work ethic' at work, Booker recalling the other Finks he'd met and how downtrodden his workers were. Until the Vox Populi revolted.
"Well, that was helpful." Anna grins as she whispers, Booker just shrugging, "Let's keep at it, alright? I'll help-"
"Not a chance, too dangerous." Booker shakes his head, "Let me do the talking for now."
"Alright…"
And so it goes, Booker asking each and every one of the dozen workers in turn. And each of them to the man say they didn't see anyone or anything, a few casting questioning glances Anna's way instead and forcing Booker to hurry on to the next one whenever a worker started eyeing her.
"Hey! What in the Prophet's name are you two doing down there?!"
"Ah, hell…" A scowl darkens Booker's features as a man he can only figure is the foreman climbs down a set of metal stairs set into the side of the room overlooking the assembly line, the ex-Pinkerton only now noticing what must be the supervisor's office built into and halfway up the yellow-orange wall. "Anna, stay behind me… sorry, boss! We were just-"
"Killing time, huh? Don't you know how to read, boy?!" The foreman storms up to Booker, a heavyset balding man with a beady eyes and glasses, his face flushed beet red, "Haven't you seen the signs posted everywhere? 'Killing time kills Columbia.' Now get back to work; 'address your orders promptly or find your contract terminated, and-"
"And your living quarters reassigned, I got it." Booker would like nothing better than to clock this pompous ass, but that won't help their purpose here any.
"Boss, he was asking if we saw anyone strange lately." The worker Booker had last questioned pipes up.
"Really, huh?" The foreman stops for a moment, narrowing his eyes, "If you have time to gossip, you have time to work. Get back to it!" The bald man stomps away, still fuming as he goes, and Booker's glad his revolver's hidden beneath his stolen work shirt; he'd be sorely tempted to draw it just to shut the guy up.
"That was… odd." Anna steps out from behind him, her voice a whisper so as not to draw attention to herself.
"Yeah…" Booker nods absentmindedly; he's watching the foreman still, the rotund man hurrying to a door on the far end of the factory floor rather than up to his office. "Looks like we might have a problem… c'mon, let's follow him."
Tailing the heavyset foreman isn't especially difficult; he seems in too much of a rush to glance behind him, Booker and Anna able to follow and keep up with his pace with little trouble. But both stop dead in their tracks when the foreman barrels through a door set into the right wall of the hallway, crying out, "Mr. Fink!"
"That lousy rat…" Nodding slowly as Anna hisses in displeasure, Booker feels a scowl coming on; the thought of dealing with another Fink isn't something he'd much fancy.
"C'mon, let's check it out." Whispering before creeping closer to the nearly closed door, Booker peers through the crack left by foreman in his haste as Anna slinks up behind him. The room the foreman had disappeared into looks to be a manager's office, Booker spying several men in suits along with the out of breath supervisor and Jeremiah Fink.
"They… they were asking about that man you sent off, sir!"
"What!?" Fink practically roars back at the cowering foreman, "How did that whore's spies find out about him already!?"
"I-I don't know, sir. These two… one big guy, one shorter… the smaller one had a large cap on, but I think… think he might be a she…"
"Did anyone talk?" Fink grabs the man by the shoulders as he demands, though at least he's not shouting anymore, "Did anyone mention the hospital?"
"No, not that I heard. Nobody there even mentioned Prophet's Memori-"
"Quiet, you fool!" Fink moves his grip from the foreman's shoulders to his collar, "The walls have ears! Loose lips, and all that. Now," releasing the foreman, Fink turns to someone outside Booker's field of vision, "Sansmark. Deal with them, once you have a… detailed description from him."
"Yes, sir." A voice comes from off to the left, Boker vaguely recalling someone by that name being Fink's head of security, at least until the industrialist offered him the job.
"Looks like we've worn out our welcome… c'mon, let's find the exit." Stepping back from the crack in the door, Booker glances back at Anna slowly only to find a touch of a grin on her lips, "So long as we don't get made, we'll be-" But just as Booker's about to finish, the door flies opinion, nearly catching him in the knee. The foreman stands there in the doorway with Sansmark behind him, a look of surprise written across his beet red face.
"I-It's them! The spies! San-!" Booker's fist collides with the foreman's jaw, knocking the rotund man back into Sansmark.
"Ah, hell. Run!" Grabbing Anna by the hand, Booker takes off down the hallway, shouts following after the two of them as a claxon of alarms begin to echo throughout the factory. A sound like a chocked back grunt comes from behind him, but Booker doesn't have time to pay it any mind.
"Where are we going?!" Anna shouts as they sprint away, she managing to catch up enough to run beside Booker and yank her hand from his.
"Gotta find a dock! This place don't have a ground floor if it's anything like the others!" Booker wishes he could get to his gun, but the effort would only slow him down and get them caught, what with his weapon and holster covered up beneath his stolen worker's shirt. "Maybe if I can... get your head down!"
A club swipes through the air as one of Fink's thugs appears from down an intersecting hallway, Booker and Anna ducking the blow and sprinting past. "Hey, that was the locker room we used, Booker!"
"That don't help us much!" More of Fink's thugs appear along with two of his security, the blue of the Founders uniform drawing a grimace across Booker's face. And the report of a pair of Broadsider pistols being fired their way only worsens his mood. "Get behind me!" Anna yelps as bullets fly all around them, Booker holding up an arm to shield his face as he charges the thugs and security guards.
Turning down the next hallway as Anna hides behind him, Booker can't help but grimace; he'd taken a few hits, most being absorbed harmlessly by his shield, but a few had managed to get through, "Ah, hell… couple near misses and a flesh wound… gah!" Just because it's not serious doesn't make it hurt any less, a streak of pain on his leg drawing a grunt from Booker.
"Booker, look! Loading dock!" Anna points ahead to a sign indicating what she'd just said, an arrow pointing left painted beneath it.
"That's our way out!" More gunshots come from behind them, and Booker quickly pushes Anna ahead of him as bullets whiz past.
After several minutes of sprinting down hallways and taking sharp corners, Booker and Anna find themselves standing on a small dock full of workers, though at least there aren't the turrets and flying gun platforms Booker had faced the last time he was at a Fink owned dock. Three cargo barges are docked at the piers, workers swarming over two of them while a third hasn't any crates or cargo on board.
But they don't have time to think; Fink's men appear at the end of the hallway they'd just stepped out of, Booker and Anna running to the unused barge and climbing onboard just as their pursuers step out onto the dock themselves.
"Take us to Prophet's Memorial!" Shouting at the automaton pilot, Booker jerks around as the shouts from their pursuers gets even closer, "Hit the deck!" Both he and Anna drop prone as gunfire erupts again, far more than they'd faced before and too much for Booker's shield to handle. And while the barge is slowly pulling away, Fink's men are closing faster than the sluggish beast of a hovercraft can leave port.
"Booker, please tell me you have EVE still! A Plasmid would be much appreciated about now!" Anna lifts her head long enough to shout.
"How the hell do you know that?!" Booker shouts back, the hail of gunfire making normal conversation impossible. But Anna's right, and Booker manages a grin; whether it's Elizabeth or Anna, he's still having to concede the point to her more often than not. "Alright…" Flames burst to life on his palm and fingers, liquid like molten lava pouring onto the deck only to scorch the wood where it lands, and a burning ball appears in his hand. "Here, catch, you bastards!"
Devil's Kiss explodes on the pier Fink's security and thugs are charging up, the force of the blast knocking several to the ground and several more off the dock entirely, all set afire and rolling to put it out or turning into piles of ash.
"Oh God!" Anna covers her mouth, looking as if she's about to be sick. Booker doesn't blame her; seeing this in person for the very first time, there's not a chance in hell it wouldn't affect her.
"Anna… you alright?" Rising slowly once the barge leaves Fink's factory behind, Booker reaches a hand towards Anna only to stop just short. "Dammit, Booker…" Cursing himself silently, Booker takes a step away from the prone woman as he finishes the thought, "You can't go acting fatherly to a lady older than you!"
"I'm… I'm alright, Booker." Anna pushes herself up into a seated position, pulling the cap off her head and letting her long, dark hair fall freely, "So… we're headed to this… Prophet's Memorial hospital?"
"Yeah… they'll likely be on the lookout for us. Can't imagine Fink sending him somewhere he didn't control…"
"But why? Why does he give a damn about my father? What does he think holding my father will gain him?"
"The question is not what," a familiar voice comes from behind Booker, the ex-Pinkerton groaning quietly as he instantly recognizes who the speaker is.
"But rather who." Turning to face the speakers, Booker frowns at the sight of the two; Robert and Rosalind Lutece stand by the barge's pilot cabin, the lady Lutece nodding, "Who he thinks your father is, that is the question that one should consider."
"Where the hell were the two of you earlier, huh?" Booker grumbles as Anna climbs to her feet.
"Our powers are muted in your companion's world; I believe we had informed you of that." Raising an eyebrow, Robert answers in his usual manner.
"We were unaware you had left the city. An oversight on our part." Rosalind continues, she looking as unflappable as ever.
"Fine…" Anna steps over to stand before the Lutece twins, "What do you mean, and can you help us?"
"We can assist you, yes, but there are precious few Tears we can use here." Nodding as he answers, Robert gives Anna a short bow, again in his usual manner.
"And as to our meaning, it is simple; that ghastly Fink believes your father to be Comstock."
"Comstock…?" There's a tremble in Anna's voice as she says the name, Booker glancing back at her and raising an eyebrow in surprise; there's an aspect of grim, quiet anger in Anna's countenance, her blue eyes suddenly reminding him more than a little of how Elizabeth's were in that final photograph. The picture that had depicted the last Comstock's final moments, which Booker had tossed into the stove the day after he'd brought Elizabeth home. "My father's nothing like Comstock."
The cold tone of Anna's voice seems to stop the twins, Robert and Rosalind glancing at one another before responding. Booker can't help but smirk a little at that, he rarely ever seeing the Luteces at a loss for words.
"Of course. But that horrid Fink has an agenda, one he must believe can be furthered by having a 'Comstock'." Rosalind starts again, shrugging ever so slightly.
"Naturally, your father would protest. However… in his present condition, it may be possible to… 'influence' him." Robert adds, and booker's all too aware of the horrified look forming on Anna's face.
"Make him think he is Comstock, for however short a time." Rosalind finishes, the Luteces glancing to one another as she falls silent. "It seems we've upset her. Should we have not mentioned the last bit?"
"He won't… my father will never be Comstock." Anna's voice is still cold and quiet, but she's speaking through grit teeth and her eyes flash with anger. And Booker has to wonder why; she hadn't experienced what Elizabeth did or even met Comstock, at least as far as Booker can figure.
"If that is-"
"Hey!" Booker steps in just as Anna's about to snap back at Robert, placing himself between her and the Luteces, "we've got bigger problems, like figuring how we're gonna break Booker out." It's an odd feeling, referring to someone else with his own name.
That gives Anna pause, the incensed brunette stopping to take a breath before nodding. "Good." Glancing back at the twins and stepping back so he can speak to both Anna and the Luteces, Booker breathes a relieved sigh. "Anyone have any bright ideas?"
"I've one, but it doesn't help us much…" Anna gives Booker a slightly sheepish grin, tugging at the collar of her stripped work shirt, "I think we should rid ourselves of these… and preferably burning them once we're done."
"So, that's it…" Murmuring to himself, Booker slides his revolver back into its holster as the Prophet's Memorial Hospital comes into view, the ex-Pinkerton having just finished looking over his weapon. "This job's getting worse all the time…"
Although they're still a good ways off, Booker can still make out two gunships bearing the colors of the Founders near the front of the hospital, his gut feeling that they wouldn't be able to just waltz on in there proving true.
"Booker, I found this in the cabin." Booker turns at the sound of Anna's voice, his daughters' counterpart holding a white bag with a red cross on the side; a Columbian first aid kit. Seeing Anna again in her blue blouse and white skirt while holding the medical bag leaves Booker with a serious case of déjà vu, memories of all the times Elizabeth had patched him up coming to mind. "I, ah… I'm not all that familiar with medicine, so…"
"Don't worry about it; I'm fine." Shaking his head, Booker chuckles to himself, "Best hold onto that for now, save it for something more serious than a flesh wound."
"Oh, okay…" Shrugging, Anna lets the medical bag hang from her now bandaged right hand; the sight of it draws a grimace from Booker, he inadvertently having aggravated Anna's injury when he grabbed her wrist back in Fink's factory. But she doesn't seem to favor it much, Anna stepping up to the bow beside him and peering towards their destination, "So that's it? That's where my father is?"
"That's what I figure. Doubt Fink can get him moved before we get there." Their plan to get his other self free of the place is fairly simple; he and Anna jump onto the roof when the barge flies over it, break in, and the Luteces will open a Tear once they've gotten the other Booker back to the roof. The last part had gotten both Booker and Anna suspicious, the twins saying there aren't many Tears in this world to use.
"Suppose they could be telling the truth…"
"Or they could be meaning for us to do this ourselves, instead." Anna finishes quietly, Booker nodding at the possibility. He never could tell when the twins were keeping something to themselves, this whole job, the existence of Anna and her Columbia a prime example.
The pair wait in silence as the cargo barge draws inexorably closer to their destination, Booker peering at the building once they're close enough to make out details; the hospital is much the same as most Columbian buildings he'd seen, this one roughly square shaped with a fanciful, four-sided spire climbing up from the center of the roof. Pillars and angel statues decorate the walls of the hospital and the spire, and a relief of Comstock is etched above the main entrance. A roof access door is set into the side of the spire facing them.
"They still venerate their Prophet, even after he abandoned them?" Anna's voice is only a whisper, but Booker can still hear the disgust in her voice.
"That's what fanatics do." Drawing his revolver again as the barge approaches the hospital, Booker can only shrug, "Alright… ready to jump?"
"Yeah…" Anna nods as she steps up to the edge with the first aid kit still in hand, Booker following a moment later and keeping his eyes peeled for threats, "On three? One…"
"Three!" Booker leaps the moment the hospital's below them, a startled Anna following a split second later, much to his relief; he had good reason to jump when he did. A glint of light had caught his eye, the report of a Bird's Eye rifle breaking the relative silence of the rooftop while a bullet slams into the deck where he'd been standing.
"Sniper!" Growling the word as he hits the ground, Booker rolls to a stop and brings his revolver to bear, firing at the sniper who'd been hiding partway up the tower. A cry of pain follows the report of his weapon, and Booker bolts for the roof access door without bothering to check if the sniper had been put down or merely been wounded. "C'mon! Gotta hurry, or the whole thing's scotched!"
"Right behind you!" Anna calls back as Booker slams through the door, she running through a split second after him.
Inside the spire portion of the hospital, Booker and Anna find themselves in a dim hallway of white tile, white painted walls and ceiling, and sterile glass, a stairwell ahead of them and rooms filled with medical equipment on either side. One such room is in each corner of the spire and the spiraling stairs are located in the center.
"C'mon, I don't think he's up here… Fink probably has his men guarding your Booker's room."
"Sure… I guess that makes sense." Anna follows close behind, still holding the medical bag. "Umm… this looks like a lab, so the patients would be below us… right?"
"How'd you figure… never mind. Down it is."
Descending the staircase, Booker leads with his revolver raised while Anan follows close behind. The floor below looks much the same as the one they'd come from as Booker and Anna approach, with one key difference; it's anything but dim down here. The spiraling staircase ends on this floor, Booker and Anna stepping off it to find themselves at the center of two intersecting hallways again, stairs leading to the floor below visible at the end of each; and near the end of the hallway to their right stand two nervous looking men wearing factory worker's garb, one armed with a shotgun, the other with a pistol.
"Who the-?" The man with the shotgun notices their presence first, but Booker's already leveled his revolver at the thug's head. They're a good sixty feet away, but Booker can still see the panic appearing on the thug's face; he has them dead to rights, but the last thing he needs now is to alert anyone who isn't already searching for them after the brief exchange on the rooftop.
"Drop it and get the hell out of here." He's advancing quickly while keeping the weapon trained on the thugs, both of Fink's men seeming to hesitate despite their situation. But the hesitation lasts only a couple seconds, a smile tugging at his features as the thugs prove a sensible pair; their weapons hit the floor a half second after they start running.
"Well, that was painless." A chuckle escapes Anna as they sprint to the now unguarded door, she glancing up at him without a word and looking more than a touch amused. But her mirth disappears the second they're through the door, and Booker can't blame her; lying on the bed is the man they'd come to find, his older self clad in a ruffled brown suit and lying unconscious on the hospital bed. The man's much older than he and his hair's turning gray, but he's still recognizable as Booker DeWitt. "Father! Please, wake up! It's-"
"Anna! We don't have time for this; help me get him up."
It takes the pair only a minute to pull Anna's father out of bed, she and Booker draping his arms over their shoulders to support him and starting for the door. As Booker's on his unconscious other self's right, he steps out first while peering down the hallway. "It's clear. C'mon, let's…" But footfalls from the stairs perk up his ears, and he turns about as quickly as he can while raising his weapon just as Anna steps out of the room, his older self between them. "Ah, hell…"
Amid the sea of blue uniforms as Founder soldiers climb up the stairs, Booker spies one face that gives him pause, one that brings many a memory to mind and the emotions that come with them. "Annabelle?"
Author's Note: Well, with the site down yesterday, updating wasn't really possible (and I'm still not convinced that they fixed everything), so here we are. Unfortunately, I'm away from my computer at my usual update time today, so I'll be updating at work. As such, the chapter may not be as cleaned up as usual, and I'll attend to that when I have a chance.
So now Booker and Anna are in the last Comstock's Columbia, one where there never was a Lamb, Tears, or Vigors. And now that Booker's come face to face with someone troublesome alongside an older Anna and much older version of him, things just got a hell of a lot more complicated. What do you think will happen, and how will they get out of this situation they've found themselves in?
Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I meant to wrap up Booker's time in Columbia in this chapter, but it just didn't shape up that way.
