10.
Thanks for the great reviews - they totally get me fired up to write more. And now that things are settling down at work and the house I'm getting in the right mindset to write more! Not only do I need to finish this one and baby daddy but I have a fun idea for one about fires. I sort of like Sweets in the lead, I might have to do another one of those.
It dark by the time Sweets arrived at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyards. He knew Hodgins was right, for a shipyard that had been defunded it seemed fairly active. He pulled up to the security booth where the man stepped out.
"What can I help you with?" The guard asked stepping up to Sweets window. The cool air came in making Sweets blink. It wasn't that cold when he had left the Jeffersonian but being on the water it was cooler and the overall temperatures had dropped in the last day.
Sweets informed the man of who he was and that he was investigating a case. He was then pointed towards an office not far where Sweets pulled up and parked in one of the spaces. He wished he had brought a coat but instead hurried into the office. After some pleasantries with Lt. Richard Cole who was the plant manager Sweets got down to business.
"What kind of work is done here?" Sweets asked.
"Busy work." Lt. Cole answered back, straining to be cordial at the line of questions he knew was coming.
"I thought that project Iliaom was shut down." Sweets said looking for lies in the man's answers though Sweets doubted the middle management man knew much more that what he would be told to say.
"It was sir, this is another project, simple reconstruction of a ship that was damaged." Cole explained.
"Then why can't I look around?" Sweets asked suspiciously.
"There are still secret components that we would not want the enemy to see sir." The man explained.
"Not even the FBI?" Sweets asked.
"No sir." The man backed up, a suggestion that he was done with the conversation. "If you can gain the proper papers you may return and I can give you a complete tour."
The man showed Sweets to the door. He wasn't completely satisfied with the answers but he also wasn't completely convinced of Hodgins's theory either. Neither seemed as interesting as the sight he saw after Lt. Cole shut the door - the sight of the supposedly dead Navy Officer Mahaffey walking into one of the buildings. Sweets looked back at his car and while he knew this was trespassing on government property and a total no-no he also knew that keep down, just like when he was a kid who didn't get down out of the jungle gym - he was still a person who didn't like to listen to what he was told.
Sweets was wearing a dark suit and under the dark of the night and the sparsely lit exteriors he easily made his way to the large hanger where he saw the officer go into. Sweets quietly slipped in the door and found himself among a myriad of boxes and crates. An area farther from him was lit but he did not want to get too close. The warehouse was cold and he resisted the urge to shiver as he made his way thru the maze of packaging and up a metal staircase to a loft office that looked down. He remained in the shadows as he listened to the conversation taking place below.
"He was at your office today?" Mahaffey asked the man across from him that Sweets now recognized as CIA Agent Dean Wittner who was nodding yes. "Well how the hell did he know to find you there?"
"Your guess is as good as mine." Wittner all but shouted back, he seemed to have problems containing his temper though he was trying. "You should have let me kill him, at least one of the three times!"
"No!" Mahaffey demanded in a commanding presence that Wittner backed down instantly from. "He is only doing his job, I would commend him for his perseverance if he wasn't such a pest. His timing is just bad."
"Yeah well that brings up a good question, how much longer is this all going to take?" Wittner asked.
Mahaffey sighed and rubbed his head. "I don't know the tests aren't going as well as we hoped. The theory is solid but we're having too many messy results."
"Too many more of those messy results and we're going to have to find another place besides Davenport State Hospital. They're only going to take so many of them without asking questions." Wittner warned Mahaffey.
Sweets knew of Davenport, an old mental asylum that was shut down 8 years ago for its awful treatment of the mentally ill. He was curious how and when it reopened for business.
"We're close." Mahaffey said bringing Sweets attention back to the present. "We just need a little more time. Those that are afflicted, they have given part of themselves for the good of the country."
"I hope so." Wittner said seemingly unconvinced. "If that agent doesn't spoil things."
Mahaffey was shaking his head and Sweets knew they were talking about him. "Enough good agents have died on our side." Sweets wondered if Mahaffey was speaking of the unknown man. "What about Lumiere?"
Sweets was curious of the new name being mentioned.
"What about him?" Wittner asked.
"If that agent Sweets and the woman, Dr. Soroyan were there when my boat blew up we know they didn't do it." Mahaffey said.
"No one is going to catch Lumiere." Wittner warned him. "If possible I would have caught him myself by now."
Mahaffey seemed to not think as well of Wittner as he did of himself. "Did Lumiere do it- on the boat?"
"If so all the evidence went with it." Wittner replied.
"We know he never talked." Mahaffey said with a heavy heart, Sweets assumed they were again referring to the unknown man. Sweets took out his phone to text the name Lumiere to Cam. Wittner's phone began to beep.
"What's that?" Mahaffey asked.
"It signals me when there is a cell phone being used nearby." Wittner explained causing Sweets to reach for the power button on his phone after he hit send. He now had a good idea why there was no cell phone on their unknown man, a fact that he seemed to know that Wittner also knew.
"Goodbye!" Sweets phone seemed to shout in the echoing metal building.
"There!" Wittner shouted in the direction it came from.
Sweets knew he couldn't go down the steps so he raced in the opposite direction hoping there was another way out. He was pretty sure that he had used up his last freebie with these guys.
Luckily the warehouse was being utilized for a great deal of storage so Sweets found many places to hide. With his fine-tuned hearing he listened for a sound, any sound. For what seemed like forever but was only seconds he heard nothing. He turned to look at one of the crates beside him and noted a peculiar odor, one he was not familiar with. He looked to the crate marked 'DUMP' and was curious if the material was being discarded properly. He maneuvered silently away from it and behind another, this one had fallen and the same smell was there but stronger. Sweets realized the previous smell was coming from this box which held a broken container. The liquid coming from it was green, a bright green. Sweets touched the side of the box to stand up from his crouched position and fingers touched some of the liquid on the side. He pulled his hand back as the liquid unexpectedly gave his fingers a burning sensation. Unprepared for the surprise he jumped back hitting another box making a sound. A few shots rang out and Sweets ran again, his heart pounding. He was pretty sure it was a blind firing, the shooter hoping he would hit something. Sweets made his way around a few more crates in the large warehouse. He could hear leather footsteps still following him so he kept going but suddenly felt a tired urge to stop.
Sweets felt oddly warm and looked to his side wondering where it was coming from. It was then he saw his white button down shirt filling with a crimson liquid the fibers. Oh shit Sweets said to himself. He hadn't completely realized what was going on, his adrenaline was running so high he had kept going.
"Lumiere!" Wittner shouted. "I'm going to get you this time…"
Sweets knew he was in trouble if they thought he was this Lumiere, someone they were deeply desiring to kill. He didn't think that telling them he was the pesky agent who wasn't heeding to their threats was going to help either. Sweets pushed against the box and was back on his feet but now that he was on concrete his leather soled shoes were giving him away just as they had the other two. He stopped again, the pain intensifying in his side and he pulled his shoes off. He clutched his bleeding right side with his right hand trying to apply pressure but it did little good as he continued to try and run though the movement was intensely painfully with each step. Sweets imagined dying was much worse and pushed past the pain and concentrated on getting to the other side of the hanger and slipping out somehow - it was all he had to go on right now.
His lack of shoes helped mask his whereabouts as the pair in pursuit found his shoes but not the man in them. Sweets did however still give himself away with a trail of blood.
Sweets paused again, the other end of the warehouse seemed the length of several football fields. He felt sweaty and hot, his hands shaking and he knew it was the blood loss that was causing it to occur. He knew the more he moved the worse he was making it but he knew by stopping it was all going to be over. His face was now so pale that it almost seemed as though he would glow in the dark but still Sweets pressed on, the Navy & CIA in pursuit only a short distance back but Sweets was able to elude them in the maze of crates.
Sweets reached the end of the warehouse but the doors wouldn't open, they were locked - he was trapped inside. He knew the pair were close behind him. As it was on the other side of the building there was a small staircase to a loft office above. Sweets ascended the stairs and after trying the office door, which was locked, stayed close to the floor, an open grate pattern that allowed him to see between the slats below.
He made no noise as he lay with his back to the grate, hoping the black suit would mask his appearance should they look up, on his front his white- almost red shirt may give him away. He tilted his head to the side and looked down to see the pair searching between the tall piles of parcels below.
"Anything?" Wittner loudly whispered to Mahaffey.
"Nothing. How the hell did he get out?"
"Lumiere is a tricky one, like I said, you haven't gotten him yet." Mahaffey half taunted Wittner. The pair were now standing directly below Sweets who lay on the ground still, trying not to make a single noise, he was hoping they were about to give up.
"He can't know anything." Wittner stressed.
"Well he sure as hell knows something if he's here." Mahaffey let out a long sigh. "It's late and it's dark and it's cold. We scared him off."
"You're the boss." Wittner said but as Mahaffey went to make a step a red streak appeared on his cheek. Mahaffey put his hand to his cheek and touched it, seeing the red liquid on his fingertips now.
"What the…?" Mahaffey asked feeling a second drop. Both men looked up to see the figure above them lying flat.
The pair broke out in a run towards the steps causing Sweets to scramble to his feet but the blood loss and the pain were making it near impossible as well as the fact his vision and senses were blurring.
"There!" Mahaffey shouted causing Sweets turned to see Wittner pointing his gun at Sweets, pulling the trigger to fire again. "No!" Mahaffey shouted pushing Wittner's hand causing the gun to fire into the ceiling. Sweets though had taken another few steps back instinctively to get away from the shots fired and fell back over the railing. He did not fall too far as he landed on a large crate below. He turned to run but found he could not move, darkness surrounded him as he heard footsteps running to the edge of the railing he fell from.
"What's the confused face?" Arastoo asked Cam as she looked at her phone.
"A text from Sweets - Lumiere." She explained.
"Like the Lumiere Brothers? Inventors of the movie camera?" Arastoo asked.
"I thought Edison invented the movie camera." Cam asked.
"Well there's quite a story there." Arastoo said giving her a grin. "But why would Sweets text you that. Where did he go anyway? We went to work and he left."
"Yeah, I don't know. I'm going to try and call him. Rats. Voicemail." Cam said hanging up.
"Should we worry, seems like recent events…."
Cam smiled a big smile.
"What?" Arastoo asked of the smile.
"Well if Sweets up to more like he was last night with a pretty lady, let's just be happy that his luck is changing."
Sweets eyes creaked open like an old heavy door on rusted hinges. As soon as the ocular devices opened he found the desire to quickly return to the blissful state of unconsciousness from before. He didn't because he recalled what happened when he was last conscious and felt a profound and urgent desire to figure out where he currently was.
It took several tries to get his eyes to open, seeing only a dark room with a limited amount of moonlight coming in a small window. He was on his back on a bed that was none too soft or comfy in a room that was chilly to the bone. Besides a brief hint at his surroundings he immediately felt the sting of the pain in his side. He made a motion to touch it but his arms would not move. This caused his eyes to open wide at the worrisome restrained feeling only to see that his hands were at his sides in medical leather restraints. His heart rate increased as he continued to assess the situation, his side was no longer bleeding, he could feel a thin bandage over it but he had been given no pain medication so the pain stung deep and hard in his side. He was not wearing a hospital gown but instead a scrub-like pair of pants and shirt. He looked around the room he was in but it was not an up to date hospital but rather a fairly dirty, dated and unmaintained facility.
"Hey! Hey!" Sweets shouted for help. His side stung as he moved so he tried to limit the movements though a shiver had begun to take over that he tried to control, due to the cold. As a kid when he was locked in the closet he knew where he was, right now he had no clue and he was attempting to stave off a panic attack on top of a gunshot wound and possible freezing conditions.
Finally the old metal door swung open as a man in a doctor's coat came in.
Sweets voice was hoarse and dry as he spoke. "Thank God, I'm Dr. Lance Sweets, I'm with the FBI, there's been a mistake." Sweets didn't know what the mistake was but he was damn sure he was happier in the bed he was in last night as opposed to tonight.
"Right, a doctor and an FBI agent." The man said with amusement. "Look, we get a lot of you types here. You've done a great service to your country, now just relax and let us take care of you."
Sweets realized that the doctor thought he was insane - then Sweets recalled back at the warehouse when Mahaffey and Wittner referred to the experiments going wrong - much like the Philadelphia Experiment had supposedly left the sailors who weren't imbedded in the ship, they were left insane. Oh God is that experiment true, is it happening again? Sweets wondered to himself but mostly he realized that while he wasn't a discarded member of the experiment he had been stuck here with them - at Davenport State Hospital, the horrible hospital that had been shut down was reopened - a place to send people you wanted to get rid of. Oh crap Sweets said realizing his situation as the doctor was leaving.
"No! Wait!" Sweets urged feeling desperate. "Agent Wittner and Officer Mahaffey, I know them, they can tell you who I am."
The doctor's face went pale then he turned to the doorway and nodded to a man who walked in with a small tray. Sweets watched as the doctor's expression grew grim and picked up the syringe from the tray and came towards Sweets with it. Sweets tried to back away but he was restrained in place.
"What are you doing?" Sweets asked watching the needle come closer to him. The other man hovered over and pointed to Sweets side.
"He's popped some stitches." The other man said. "He could bleed out."
"Ah, yes." The doctor said as she pushed the medication into Sweets' arm. "It doesn't really matter."
Sweets heard the words but he couldn't say or do anything more as his body was forced into a relaxed state and his mind began to drift away and into darkness.