They had decided that being seen researching this matter together would arise suspicion, so they duplicated the files and kept one for each other to sift through on their own time. Archer suggested they kept to their activities, and so, Martin left for his room in Torrington to use his Center station in his research. He was not dumb, however, and had to spend more than a few hours isolating his work from the Center's tracking algorithms, lest he found himself staring down the barrel of a blaster, having to explain some very shady actions. When he was sure he could enter the agency's network anonymously, he started sifting through the data he needed. His first stop was the United States Special Operations Command network, where he did his best to dig out the Lieutenant's file. He only had his nickname to go with, but it turned out to be enough. He downloaded the file to the station, to avoid any possible tracking that the geeks for the Pentagon could do (not like it would matter, anyways), and then scanned it for the information he looked for. The redacted information turned out to be the name of a woman: Marianne Winters. It seemed pretty straightforward, but it turned out to be another wild goose chase: the name only had two things associated to it: a birth and a death certificate. Nothing else. No information on her upbringing, or academic formation. For all intents and purposes, the woman had just been born and died, she hadn't gone to school, she had never held a job, never had a family… that sounded extremely familiar…
He ran the name through the Center's network, cross-referencing it with databases from intelligences agencies… and he came up blank. The Center was supposed to know about everyone in any secret government agencies or intelligence services, and this woman showed all the markers of being an operative. So why, in heavens name, wasn't she showing up in his searches? He thought about it long and hard, until a solution dawned on him: with these many years, the old Center records probably had the information on them, but those things were physical files, and probably sealed off in the agency's vault. Entering that place would be nigh impossible without raising flags at the very least. He definitely wasn't going to go there for a guy he wasn't even sure he liked, even if his step-sister was all over the guy. But maybe he could look further somewhere else. Maybe try to tie pseudonyms or fake names to her, or pieces of evidence hidden in mission logs (f she worked for The Center at all) or discover information that was accidentally not redacted. In the meantime, he had to relay the few things he had learnt to Archer, maybe so the guy could actually do some of the heavy-lifting himself.
He couldn't move. He wasn't even sure if he existed at all. But just like that, he was aware of where he was and that he existed, but he might very well just be in a state of delusion. That had to be the thing, since the place that he was in right now didn't exist anymore. The flat screens in the work stations, the outdated uniforms… and there he was, again, but not like himself… he didn't remember much about his childhood, but he did keep one or two pictures of those times around. He didn't know where they'd come from, and he hadn't cared much about it until now. But right now what he owned wasn't important, the reason why he was here was what was important, but for some reason, he was no longer… well, wherever he had been. The scenery changed into a completely unknown place to him. He hadn't ever been in a place like this, but it looked familiar.
And his young self was there again, playing in a swing and having truckloads of fun. He couldn't for the life of his, remember ever being that kid, and there was no reason for him to believe that this was ever real.
But somehow, he knew it had been real.
He had been that kid, he had played in those swings. But that meant that, at some point, he had been under somebody's care, that maybe he had had someone to call "mother", at the very least. If that were to be true, then why wouldn't he remember? The Center had very liberal policies when it came to memory erasing, but the extent to which this would have gone, if real, would be beyond the scope of anything done before. It would set a very dangerous precedent.
"James, come inside, dinner time!" a distorted but distinctively feminine voice called to the kid.
"But mommy! I want to play!"
"You've been playing in the swings all the morning, my boy. Come on, it's time to give it a rest, honey"
"Ok" the boy answered in defeat, appearing to direct the answer at someone he could clearly see, but Archer couldn't see anybody else besides the kid. He wanted to know more, but the scene began fading as he tried to move closer to the only other person in it. He fought hard to remain in that dream realm, but the calling back to reality was stronger than whatever psychological strength he could muster, and the dream faded from his memory a soon as he found himself staring at the roof of his bunk, only the face of Annie breaking the uniformity of the view.
"Hey, Arch, are you ok? You were tossing and turning, and I swear I could hear you screaming all the way to my room" the young woman asked, sitting on a chair across from him. The small room allowed for her to remain at arm's reach, and such, she was able to see every little detail as he went from sleepiness to alert, and then to doubt, mixed with a little worry, "how do you feel? You look a little… off."
"I'm fine. How did you.." he started to ask, but she smiled sheepishly and held a set of electronic lock picks for him to see, never you mind. Was it really that bad?"
"Yes, it's a little unusual. I know you have recurring nightmares, but this was a tad worse. I never heard you creaming before"
"Yeah well, I don't know why I would be screaming, the nightmares weren't bad enough for that." He answered truthfully, going for a small fridge here he kept a jug of clean, fresh water handy. He poured a glassful for himself and one for his guest, and while he downed his glass she just looked at him carefully, studying his actions.
"Perhaps you were thinking about what we talked yesterday?" she offered, drinking just out of courtesy. She would push and hammer the point across as much as she could, because she cared about him, and perhaps about Diana too. And while there was little opportunity of that being related to this, she wouldn't budge.
"You're gonna keep pestering me about that, right?" he deadpanned, at which she just smiled as innocently as she could, while pretending to look elsewhere. He looked around too, scanning for any other disturbances, setting his sight in the certainly-foreign envelope resting in his desk, "what's that?"
"Huh? Oh, I don't know, I found it under your door when I came in. Maybe a love letter?" she teased despite having advocated for him to reevaluate the whole "relationship" thing just seconds ago, "none of my business, though. I'll go back to bed. Will you be better off if I stay?"
"That would be pretty weird, all things considered… ah, I see where you are going, now"
"Don't start having funny ideas, darling. I'm just asking out of concern"
"I'm ok, you may leave in peace"
"Ok then. G' Night"
"G' Night
He was alone again in no time making sure the door was locked before cutting open the envelope with the smoked blade of his personal knife. Inside he found the files that he had requested from Mystery. It seemed like the young agent was exceptionally gifted. A true agent, born into the job. But apparently, there was a limit to what he could achieve.
It was a good time as any to test the young agent's theory. Archer just hopped that he wouldn't get caught, because that would be a hell of a lot weird to explain.
"What are you guys doing here?" Martin asked, not even aware that Diana, Billy, and Java were still in the school. He had figured they would go downtown, to enjoy civilization before it was blown up by the aliens trying to take over.
"It's movie night, Martin. I thought you would be pumped, seeing how it's the only thing we can do that's remotely connected to the paranormal" his step-sister responded, carrying two loaded buckets of popcorn, while Java carried in a collection of DVDs that they got from their personal collections.
"Frankly, I kindda forgot…" he admitted sheepishly, then quickly closing the door behind them and dashing towards the Center terminal to hide it back in the wall. He was sure he could, at least, trust Diana with it, but he would rather not have to explain any of his actions. The group settled in and got comfortable, Martin deciding to let Diana choose the first movie (probably some cheesy romantic movie, or an artsy "independent" film), while his thoughts were still running at a thousand miles per hour, working on the many possibilities and implications that his digging around could have. He didn't even get much of the movie, a romantic comedy of sorts that had the others laughing their faces off, but he only faked it when he heard the laughter rising, still deep in thought about what exactly he had been conned into.
After two movies and half of another, everyone started dozing off, eventually falling asleep where they sat. While he knew Java would be fine, and Billy's shell would not let him feel much in the way of pain, Diana was a different story. He pulled his only clean pillow from his closet and helped her lay in a comfortable position. It was hard for him. He would never be able to see her as anything but the annoying sister that was always interfering and pestering him. Yet, he could really make the argument that he would do pretty much anything to make her happy, and perhaps that was why he had accepted helping her boyfriend. There, he admitted it, Diana had a boyfriend. Their parents would ask how and when did that happened, but he wouldn't be doing the explaining to them. His dad was probably going to lose it. And her mom? Stella McArthur (formerly Lombard) had always been proud of her daughter's clear goals, and she would probably have doubts about what this "relationship" things meant for Diana.
But then again, it was none of his business. He would take her side if needed be, that much he was sure about.
For a secret agency that monitored all alien and paranormal activity, The Center did NOT have a decent night security. Perhaps it was confidence that they had only been breached a couple of times since their inception, or just the sheer lack of personnel to keep the area secured at all times, but either way, it was a sloppy job. He had been able to breach the biometric security lock by the Archive's door with ease, and was now roaming the tall file cabinets looking for the records of one Marianne Winters. He hadn't ever been used to this, since he had started his services in an already-digital Center, but it was easy enough to deduce that the letters in front of every cabinet were categories for alphabetical storage, so he quickly browsed for letter W, for Winters. After 5 minutes, he found it on the further most sector of the place. While the lighting was tenuous at best, his using of Omega Googles made the padlock-picking easy, along with being able to read any file he might encounter. There were many, probably hundreds of files, so he quickly browsed towards "Wi", and then he went slower until he found the file he needed.
"Come to papa" he muttered, until cut by the rumbling of people quickly converging on him. They had either been waiting for him, or had detected his entrance before finding the file. Either way, he was moving as soon as he was able to. No time to lock the padlock or close the cabinet even, he ran using the cabinets for concealment, staying out of sight from the assaulting agents.
"I see no intruder, are you sure about the alarm?"
"Sensors picked up unauthorized entry and movement, over there. Stay close"
Both agents, along with five others, combed the area, looking for someone (or something) they didn't know the identity of. While they were very efficient (as any of their peers should be), they were trying to hunt a person that had lived most of his life learning how to infiltrate, evade, and escape, among other less-than-common skills, a person that could easily kill them with a sheet of paper. These abilities helped him evade the motion sensors, all the while looking for a way out, until he found himself going for the door, where only two guards remained. His hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his 100 lumen tac-light, pointing it outside the doorway, shining it bright outside and blinding the darkness-accustomed guards. While they covered their eyes and recoiled from the blindness, he struck the nearest one in the gut, then swiftly delivering an open-palmed strike on the second agent's mouth. With confidence he sprinted away, barely evading the security cameras he remembered to be setup in the Comms area, where he activated a portal out of the place and into Torrington Town.
Diana had found her way to her room after waking up very early in the morning, about 2:30 a.m., and was ready to just lay on her bed and call it a night when she heard tapping in her window. Any normal teenager would be disturbed or scared by it, but being a supernatural investigator had desensitized her towards thing that went bump in the night. She just walked carefully towards the glass and stole a peek at what could be outside. When she realized who it was, she immediately pulled the window open.
"What in the world you think you are doing here?" she asked to the man as he jumped inside her room and closed the window behind him. Her tone was a combination of surprise and frank happiness.
"Sorry, did I interrupt anything?" he sheepishly asked, realizing that he was invading her room.
"Not exactly, I was going to bed. It's not like I'm not thrilled for having you here, but…" she instinctively yawned, "it's pretty early in the morning, you know?"
Archer just looked around before pulling out the file he had just stolen from behind his back.
"I know, and I'm sorry… but I need help, and I can't think of someone I can't trust the most with this Your brother helped a bit before, but I don't think he would like to risk his career as an agent to help me…"
"Wait, Martin helped you? He actually got along with you enough to help you?" she asked, not entirely convinced that her selfish, annoying step-brother had actually helped someone out of generosity.
"Yeah, although he did it more out of getting the kicks from the puzzle than anything else, I suppose"
He started to recount the story from the beginning, believing her to not know anything about it. While she kept a straight face as he progressed with the tale, deep inside her brain she was panicking. She had promised that she wouldn't tell him anything, but it seemed like she didn't have to. He was pulling some dangerous threads, and he didn't even know half of it.
"So… you are telling me that The Center is now after you?" she asked, perplexed. If that was the case, then they didn't have much time. The Center was known for being very efficient at what they did, and hunting individuals was one of such things.
"Not exactly. They know security was breached, and that they should be searching for someone, but they never saw my face, and I scrambled the sensor grid of the place" he answered, slightly proud of himself.
"How did you… no, never mind, the less I know the better for you. James…" she looked at him pleadingly, "you are playing with fire in here. You've already attacked two Center agents following this, and you don't even know what it is that you are looking for!"
"I know, Di, I'm aware I'm running blind in here, but I know that I'm close to something. Trust me, please?" he asked, motioning the file towards her. Diana looked blankly at it, then at him, sighing and grudgingly taking it.
"Fine, but not tonight. We have to stash it somewhere where the Center security won't find it if they come to talk to us. And an alibi for you."
"What did you have in mind?" he asked, truly perplexed. He was, indeed, a babe in the woods when it came to real interactions with women.
"Just… go to the bed and give me a sec, alright?", she asked, a bit flustered and embarrassed about what was going to happen. He turned out to be pretty obedient, even while being led by someone who had never led a team for more than a few hours total. He was fidgeting and looking around, the realization that he was in the room of the person that had, not long ago, become his… girlfriend? Yeah, no, it was still hard to grasp the concept, so he'd leave it the way it was. The sound of what he assumed to be the bathroom opening called his attention, and he stiffened when he saw Diana again. She wore a silky-looking night gown that was really making him uncomfortable and her blush madly.
"Lay back down" she practically commanded, while making room for herself.
"I beg for your pardon?" he dumbly asked in mumbles, looking at her wide eyed.
"It's your cover. It's just that, I promise. You asked me to trust you and now I ask you to trust me, ok?" she almost managed to say all that with a straight face, and that seemed to make him slightly less uncomfortable. So he obeyed, reluctantly, and laid himself in the bed, Diana following closely and laying her head on his chest. She could listen and feel his agitated heartbeat and breathing. It was amusing, and she couldn't avoid smiling and giggling to herself.
"I think this is a bad idea" he muttered, heard just fine by Diana.
"It's fine, just relax, Mr. Worrymuch"
"Fine. You are not expecting me to actually sleep, right?"
"Just close your eyes, dummy. Sleep will come soon enough"
It sure did for her, but he remained awake for a while. The nerves died down soon enough, but his preoccupations now ran all the way to keeping his ass safe from the agents that would come sniff around. And probably Martin Mystery, if he found him in here with his sister.
Wonderful.
I love awkwardness. Anyways, if you liked this chapter (and even if you didn't) please leave a review with your thoughts, I appreciate them. See ya around.