Disclaimer: Jen, Eric, Wes, Kim, Rocky, Alex and Trip aren't mine, they're borrowed without permission from BVE. No harm, no foul, no money made. Arachna and Dirk Cunningham do belong to me, you're welcome to borrow them (although I can't quite see why you'd want Dirk), but asking me first would be nice.

With thanks to Selma (cattle prodding), Ekat (help in very trying circumstances), Vanessa (advice) and Gamine (advice, support and beta'ing). Ladies, you're wonderful.

Warnings: Again, while this is still PG-13, there are some mature themes dealt with.

Please offer feedback -- it tells me how I'm doing; glad folks are still enjoying this.

~*~

Max Force -- One Night…

Dinner was pasta and store bought sauce, which Jen cooked and cleared up from.

"I can help," Eric offered.

Jen just looked at him. "Your left hand is in plaster. Don't be an ass. Sit." She pointed in the direction of the stools.

"I'm not a dog," Eric muttered, meekly doing as he was told.

Jen snickered and turned back to the sink. "Besides, it's not like this is going to take long."

Eric sighed. "Sorry."

"What for?"

"For being a pain in the ass."

Jen looked over her shoulder at him. "You're not being. You're about to be very useful."

"How?"

"Tell me what we've got on Jefferson Smith."

Eric gave a half smile and picked up that batch of notes, only to have to put it down again as his cell phone started ringing. "Sorry." Jen laughed. "Myers," he continued, answering the call.

"Is that Eric Myers?"

Eric frowned. The speaker was not familiar, and there was no caller ID. "Yes it is."

"My name's Rocky DeSantos -- I'm a friend of Kim's."

Fear blossomed in Eric's gut. "What's happened?"

Eric heard Rocky release a breath, clearly steeling himself to give an explanation. "Kim's been...hurt."

He felt like he was in freefall. "What?"

Rocky had clearly worked out what he wanted to say now as the next words came out quickly and without hesitation. "Kim was attacked. I ran the guy off but...not in time. She's in ICU."

No. Not Kimberly... "What about Alice?"

There was a lengthy pause. "I think you should get here," Rocky finally said, avoiding the question altogether.

"What about Alice?" Eric repeated, now fearing the worst. "Is she..." But he couldn't bring himself to finish the question. Couldn't bring himself to even think it.

"No," said Rocky hastily. "At least..." And Rocky sighed. "We don't know."

"What do you mean?" Eric croaked.

"Alice is missing." Eric felt sick. "How soon can you be in Silverhills?"

"Two hours," he answered automatically.

"OK -- I'll fill you in on all the details when you get here," Rocky promised.

Eric started to disconnect the call, when a thought crossed his mind. "How did you know to call me?"

In spite of the situation, Rocky gave a chuckle. "You're the only person in Silverhills she's ever told me about and your phone number was pinned up by her phone with 'in case of emergencies' written next to it."

"Oh."

"See you in two hours."

This time, Eric did disconnect the call. That was when he realised that Jen was now standing in front of him, looking very worried. "Eric?" she asked. "What's happened?"

"Something's happened to Kim -- I have to get back...to Silverhills."

"Are you all right to drive?"

Eric blinked. "I gear shift with my right hand."

"That isn't what I meant," Jen replied. "Eric, you're in shock."


"I have to go."

"What good are you going to be to Kim if you drive straight off the interstate?"

Eric swallowed and managed to gather together some of his widespread wits. Jen had a good point. OK. Calm. I can do calm. Panic isn't going to help Kimberly -- or Alice. "I'll be all right," he finally said, having regained control of his roiling emotions.

He got the impression that Jen was studying him before she finally offered a nod and produced the keys to the SUV. "Let me know how she is," Jen instructed.

"I will do."

With that, Eric headed out of the house to start the two-hour drive south.

~*~

In deference to Arachna's photosensitivity, the lights in the interview room were dimmed to a bare minimum. Alex folded his arms across his chest and sat back, studying the master spy. In some circumstances, he decided, the slender mutant would be attractive, but certainly not under these. While her face might be beautiful, it was currently marred by a thoroughly ugly sneer.

"You have nothing on me, Major," she asserted. "You have no reason to hold me."

"You're quite wrong," Alex answered softly, infusing a threat of danger into his voice. "There is a rap sheet a mile long with your name on it. I know all the operations you spied on and blew wide open. I know the names of all your operatives -- and we will be cleaning them up in the next few days, I can promise you that. If nothing else," he continued, "I have you on grounds of attempted murder."

Arachna looked uneasy beneath the scowl. "That's ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "Whose murder?"

Alex leaned forward until he was only inches away from the female mutant's face. "Mine."

Arachna paled.

"I can prove," he explained, "that through your spy network, Ransik got to hear that there was a planned bust in Forgotten District that should have captured him once and for all, and through that advance warning, he developed a counter plan. One where my death was very much intended."

"You can't prove that!"

"Try me," Alex retorted. "I can prove every word of what I have just said. I have sworn affidavits from, amongst others, Ransik and Nadira who are both prepared to stand up in court and say the information came from you."

"But..." Arachna floundered, completely shocked. "You're lying."

"You want to risk that? Given the charge of attempted murder, on top of all the other charges, you're looking at a very, very, very long jail term Arachna."

Alex sat back and watched as his words sank in. It was going to be a long interrogation. He was bluffing about the affidavit from Ransik -- as of yet, he didn't dare approach the authorities to question Ransik about this -- but Nadira had sworn one, and the rap sheet was only part bluff. None of that showed on his face though. He had long since perfected a poker face when it came to interviewing suspects.

It was a long silence. Alex allowed it to hang, weighing over Arachna like the proverbial sword of Damocles. He had made the opening gambit in the dance -- it was up to her now where this went.

~*~

Wes didn't think he'd ever been quite so pleased to see the off ramp for Bay Avenue, Del Oro Bay. He had made better than good time since leaving Bakersfield -- largely by dint of not paying complete attention to his speed.

Good thing there were no cops around.

As he headed along the San Marco road, he wondered what Jen's reaction would be to his early arrival. More to the point, he wondered what Eric would do. Wes hoped that Eric would give them some privacy. He and Jen needed to talk -- and while they could go to a bar, it would be easier to have the discussion somewhere where they didn't have to shout.

San Marco finally loomed out of the darkness, an even bigger sight for sore eyes than the Bay Avenue off ramp.

Just another mile and...

Over the noise of the bike engine, he caught the faint sound of his morpher bleeping.

You couldn't have waited five minutes?

Wes groaned softly and pulled to the side of the road.

"Wes?"

"I'm here, Jen," Wes answered, now that the bike was stationary.

In so far as he could tell, she looked relieved. "I've tried calling you about five times in the last half hour -- I was starting to get worried." She peered. "Oh."

Wes smiled, although he knew she couldn't see it thanks to his bike helmet. "I have some good news -- and some news about you know what."

"You do?" Jen was surprised. "What?"

"Well, I'll fill you in on what I found in about five minutes time."

She looked puzzled. "Uh, why?"

"Because that's when I should be just about walking through the front door of Vista Del Oro -- assuming you guys let me in." This time, there was no mistaking it: Jen looked relieved. "Jen?"

"Eric's had to go back to Silverhills."

"What? Why?"

Jen gave a sigh. "I don't know all the details...but it's something to do with Kimberly."

Wes swore softly. "Give me five, Jen and I'll be with you."

Jen nodded and cut the connection. Wes pulled back onto the road. Well within the predicted time, he was pulling up in front of Vista Del Oro. Memories of holidays here with his parents swarmed forth in a bittersweet rush and it took a moment before he could bring himself to climb off the bike, in which time, Jen had opened the front door and had come out to meet him.

"I'm glad you're here," she admitted, quietly.

"Not keen on being alone, huh?" But there was no sort of censure in his voice.

"Not really," she admitted.

Wes nodded, finally removed his helmet and offered her a smile. "Me either."

"You're just saying that," Jen accused as he pulled out a tarpaulin to cover his bike with as protection from any over night rain.

Wes glanced at her. "I grew up in my own company, or in the company of people only interested in me because of my father. Believe me, I appreciate proper company." Satisfied his bike would now stay dry over night, he gestured to the house. "Shall we go inside?"

"Sure."

There was something in Jen's tone of voice that told Wes she didn't believe him. "Jen," he said quietly, "I don't deal in platitudes. I've heard far too many in my life."

She turned back to face him. "I'm sorry...I didn't..." She swallowed. "You're too good to be true."

"Why?" Wes asked.

"You understand. And you don't push..." Jen shook her head. "You're right. We should go inside -- it's getting cold."

Wes couldn't disagree with the temperature assessment -- although the rest of what Jen had just said surprised him. He followed her into the house. Someone -- and he guessed probably Eric before he left -- had lit the fire in the open hearth which meant that the house was lovely and warm. After a long bike journey north, that was something Wes could appreciate.

"So what did you find out in San Diego?" Jen asked, clearly changing the subject, as Wes dumped his backpack and started to strip off his jacket and gloves.

"Biocon was there -- but he's long gone." Wes related what he'd found at the Gull Street warehouse, and what the youth had said to him.

"You believe the kid?" Jen queried.

Wes shrugged. "He had no reason to lie to me and I can't see any reason for Biocon or Taylor to have set up a false trail."

Jen nodded. "You're probably right."

"So what's new here?" Wes asked, and it was his turn to listen as Jen filled him in on what had occurred. "Sounds like you struck it lucky with that deli," he observed.

"That was what Eric said," Jen replied, smiling faintly.

"Speaking of which..."

Jen sighed. "I don't know. We were going over the surveillance data after dinner when his cell phone rang. Next thing I know, he's turned as white as a sheet. All he said was 'It's Kim and Alice -- I gotta go' and he all but took off like a scalded cat."

Wes grimaced. "I don't know why he can't admit he loves them -- if anything happens to them he's going to..." He trailed off as he saw the expression on Jen's face. "What?"

"He said something to me last night," Jen replied. Wes lifted his eyebrows. "He said Kimberly wouldn't want 'someone like him'."

Wes winced. "Oh boy. That man has more emotional hang-ups than..." He stopped himself as he realised that Jen almost certainly wouldn't know what he meant by the Jerry Springer Show.

~*~

When asked later, Eric couldn't tell anyone a single thing about the drive back to Silverhills. It passed by in a blur. Kimberly was seriously hurt. Alice was missing. The two thoughts repeating over and over again as a constant refrain.

Finally he reached Silverhills' city limits. On automatic pilot, he selected the correct off ramp for central Silverhills and was soon speeding through the streets towards the hospital. Pulling into the parking lot of the hospital, he barely waited for the vehicle to stop before he was climbing out and heading towards the hospital buildings. He knew where ICU was and he started to head in that direction, only to be waylaid.

"Wha..."

"Eric?" Eric slowly turned to look at the person. It was a tall, athletic looking Hispanic man. "Right?"

"Yeah...but..."

"I'm Rocky DeSantos." The man introduced himself.

It took several seconds for that to penetrate the fog surrounding Eric's mind. "Kim's friend?"

Rocky nodded. "I'd show you where Kim is, but she's in surgery right now."

It was only the fact that Rocky's arm was still around Eric's shoulders that prevented him from falling at the news. "Surgery?"

Rocky nodded in sympathy. Eric found himself being led across the reception area to a comfortable bench seat. "Internal bleeding," Rocky explained. "They didn't really tell me what was going on -- friends don't count as 'need to know' right now."

"What happened?" Eric asked.

Rocky sighed. "Has she told you about Dirk?" Silently Eric shook his head. "Alice's dad -- her ex-husband. Really, really nasty piece of work."

~*~

"What do you want?" Arachna asked, finally, flatly.

She was worried all right. Alex could see it in her expression. He allowed himself a tiny smile; one that he knew was anything but friendly. "Well, now. There's a question," he said. "I want what you deal in: Information."

"And what do I get?"

"That depends on how good your information is and whether you tell me everything I want to know."

"I want the attempted murder charge dropped."

Alex feigned surprise. That was exactly the response he was expecting, but better to look surprised -- make her think she was on top. For now. "If you want that dropped," he replied, "your information had better be very, very good."

He watched as she processed his response. "It's good."

"Prove it," he challenged.

"I can give you names, places and times of every heist and hit that's due to go down for the next six months."

Alex pretended to consider her statement. She probably could give that kind of list, but Time Force Crime already had a pretty good idea of what was likely to go down. "Not good enough," he replied flatly.

She looked shocked -- although not as shocked as if she had been really surprised by his answer. Rather, she was startled by his flat turn down. "What? Why?"

"You want me to drop a charge of attempted murder, Arachna," Alex reminded her. "My attempted murder. I really don't like people trying to kill me. In fact," he added, leaning forward once more, "I tend to take a very dim view of it."

Arachna paled again.

"I want to see someone punished for trying to kill me. In fact, what I want to see happen is that the brains behind that attempt gets the punishment. And right at this moment, Arachna, that's you."

"Are you threatening me?"

Alex sat back, that intimidating smile on his face once more. "Me, no. Just telling you where you stand."

Another long, thick, cloying silence descended. Alex watched as Arachna squirmed. Gone was the sneer and the façade of control -- she was rattled.

"But I didn't tell Ransik!" she finally blurted.

Again, Alex feigned surprise. "Oh? It wasn't your information that set me up?"

"Yes...no...but..."

"Yes, no, but, what?"

"I didn't deal with Ransik -- I couldn't stand him, or his bitch of a daughter. I just dealt with Merck Taylor..."

Now they were getting somewhere. "Merck Taylor?"

~*~

"Wes, what do we really know about Eric?" Jen asked quietly after a lengthy silence.

"Not much -- not about where he's come from," Wes admitted. "But we know what counts -- and that's that he's a good guy." He studied her expression. "What else happened last night?"

"He had a nightmare."

"And I'm betting it didn't involve being chased by a ten foot energizer bunny," Wes said quietly.

"No." Jen met his gaze. "You know?"

"That he has been through some seriously bad shit in the last four years, yeah."

Jen shivered. "I want to help him."

Wes pulled her into a gentle embrace. "You and me both -- but until he's ready to be helped, there's nothing either of us can do."

He half expected Jen to stiffen in his arms as she had on the previous occasions he'd held her, but this time, she relaxed against him, instantly returning his hug. Her head rested against his shoulder.

"Jen?"

"I realised something," she replied quietly. "Even if this...you and me...does scare me, I can't let that fear rule my life." She shifted in his arms until she could meet his gaze. "I missed you." Wes leaned forward and ghosted a kiss across her lips. "I love you, and I know I will never feel this way about anyone else."

He smiled. Maybe they didn't need to talk after all.

~*~

Eric waited while Rocky sorted through his thoughts.

"Kim and I went to High School together in Angel Grove," Rocky began. "She was a really good gymnast and she got talent spotted by Günter Schmitt...top gymnastics coach, based in Miami. He offered her a place at his training camp. She took him up on it and moved to Florida...and that's where she met Dirk."

"How?"

Rocky gave a bleak smile. "I don't know. Dirk sure as shit wasn't a gymnast, but beyond that... She's never told me and I've never asked. I can only figure that Dirk was a really, really smooth talking son of a bitch and she was star-struck by the attentions of an older man." Rocky shrugged. "He got her pregnant, promised to stand by her, married her...then..."

"What did he do?" Eric asked, already feeling angrier than he could ever remember feeling.

"Lied, cheated, brow-beat her, belittled her... And when she tried to fight back..."

"He hit her." Eric felt sick all over again, particularly as Rocky nodded, confirming it.

"When Alice was born, he got worse. Started sleeping around, making demands...and Kim was too tired to fight back." Rocky grimaced. "Until the day she caught Dirk with Alice."

Eric closed his eyes. He did not want to hear this.

"Alice was three and a half and curious. She got into something she shouldn't have done and Dirk caught her. Kim was in the kitchen doing some laundry or something when she heard Alice screaming. She doesn't remember what happened next."

There was a moment of silence, into which, the sound of a shattering plaster cast was unbelievably loud. It wasn't until a wave of pain travelled up his left arm that Eric realised he'd once again punched a wall with his left hand.

"I felt like that when Kim finally told me," Rocky admitted. "Although something tells me that wasn't such a hot idea."

"It wasn't," Eric agreed, hoping the pain from his hand would override the nausea brought about by Rocky's explanations. "What happened?"

"Somewhere along the line," Rocky continued, "the Miami PD got involved. There was a brief suggestion of Kim being charged...then the medical examiner got a look at Kim...and Alice...and Dirk was the one who got charged. That was when Kim finally got in touch with me after four years of nothing. She figured, of all the people she knew 'back home' I was going to be the least judgemental...she never used to worry about that." Rocky shook his head. "Dirk was sent down for ten years. But I guess he must have gotten out early for good behaviour or something."

Eric felt the pit of his stomach turn to lead. "What do you mean?"

Rocky sighed. "Dirk did this to Kim."

~*~

Arachna was now almost luridly pale. Alex knew full well she hadn't intended to let that name slip. He could see her trying to work out how to avoid saying any more.

"Tell me about Merck Taylor," he continued. "Who is he?"

The question hung on the air for a long, long moment.

"He's a Fixer."

Long, hard habit kept Alex's face inscrutable at that. Fixers were the people that made things happen in criminal society. Steelix had been a Fixer for Ransik until he'd been captured. So had Frax, come to that. "Whose Fixer?"

Arachna's head dropped as the weight of the question pressed down on her.

"Whose Fixer?" he asked again, this time not leaving her the thinking time. She muttered something softly. "Speak up -- I can't hear you."

Her head snapped up suddenly, sneer back in place. "It doesn't matter if I tell you or if I don't. None of this matters."

Alex smirked. "If it doesn't matter," he replied, "then you can tell me. Whose Fixer?"

He locked stares with the female mutant, boring straight through her mis-matched eyes, letting her read that he was deadly serious about this. She looked away first.

"Biocon's. But it doesn't matter that you know that -- where he is..." Arachna smiled unpleasantly. "None of this will matter soon."

Alex returned the expression and stood up. "You might like to think that, Arachna. But me, if I were you, I wouldn't be banking on it."

With that, he headed out of the interview room. The second the door closed behind him, he sagged against the wall.

"Nicely done, sir," observed Trip, who had been monitoring the whole interview.

"I hate head games -- and right now, I don't know whether I'm mind-screwing her, or she's mind-screwing me."

TO BE CONTINUED...