Hello!

I'm still around...LOL. Sorry for the wait.

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter, and for the encouragement to get this chapter done! You guys/gals are awesome!

Aspecial shout out to Ten Mara for her input and friendship. She's a true gem!

CHAPTER 20

Author's note: The Secret Service did not start protecting the President of the United States (as they currently do) until 1901, when an assassination changed the course of the agency.

Kenneth Masterson gave a apologetic smile when he saw the American President enter the main parlor. Holding out his hand for McKinley to shake, the ambassador gave a slight nod in Captain Nemo's direction.

"Thank you for seeing us, Mr. President," Masterson spoke, his voice holding a tone of urgency. "This is Captain Nemo."

"A pleasure, Captain," McKinley said genuinely as he shook the mariner's hand after greeting Masterson. "I must admit to a fascination with some of your mechanical accomplishments. Agent Sawyer spoke at length about your superior technological mind, and now I find myself more than curious to see some of your inventions."

Nemo bowed respectfully at the admiration in the President's voice. "I would be honored to show you my Nautilus, Mr. President, under more agreeable circumstances."

"I'm truly sorry to bother you at this time," Masterson interrupted. "This matter cannot wait until your meeting with Mr. Quatermain tomorrow."

"Why is that?" McKinley asked as he gestured for the guests to take seats across from his own chair.

Taking a deep breath, Masterson answered the question. "Special Agent Sawyer was badly injured during an abduction attempt earlier, forcing me to take action immediately."

President McKinley frowned in concern. He had always liked the spunky and forthright agent. "How is he doing? What hospital is he in? I'll have guards sent there - "

"I received a communication from my first mate that Mr. Sawyer is recuperating," Nemo informed the American leader. "Many of my best fighters are protecting him right now, along with Mr. Quatermain and two other League members."

The British diplomat leaned in, and handed McKinley the note from Quatermain. "If you would read this, Mr. President..."

Quickly scanning over the message, the President rose from his seated potion. "The Secret Service has remained consistent in their refusal to allow Agent Sawyer to accompany the League on any more excursions, but this does change things." McKinley folded up the letter and placed it inside his vest pocket. "I do understand the urgency of the situation, Mr. Masterson. I'll call a few of my guards to come with me to the hospital. Which one is Agent Sawyer in?"

"He is at his home, Mr. President," the captain answered. "We were not familiar with this area, so we chose to take Sawyer somewhere close by instead of hunting for a hospital. He would have bled to death if prompt action wasn't taken. Dr. Jekyll and my personal physician were on hand to attend to him. Agent Sawyer would not have been in any better hands at a hospital."

"I see." Motioning for his aide to come closer, McKinley detailed what needed to be done, and sent the younger man off to fulfill the orders. "Since this has become an international matter, would you gentlemen be kind enough to take me to Mr. Quatermain directly yourselves?" Seeing the looks of amazement on the visitors' faces, the President gave them a reassuring look. "Time is of the upmost importance here, and we have wasted enough of it. My men will follow us soon."

Nemo led the way to his fabulous car, pleased at the wonderment he saw in McKinley's eyes. "Have you never seen an automobile before, Mr. President?"

"Oh yes," McKinley replied, eagerly entering the machine, "and Agent Sawyer was absolutely correct. He said the Model T's he test drove at the Ford factory were a pale comparison to your adaptation." As he settled himself on the plush seating, the American leader looked about him in amazement, deliberately ignoring the smell of blood that first hit his nose. He didn't need to guess who it had spilled from.

Starting up the engine, Captain Nemo glanced back and addressed the President. "This is a more modified version of the one young Sawyer drove in Venice." Starting the engine, the India native was surprised that Tom's ability to drive his creation was actually a skillful mastery of how to push the auto to its limits. When their youngest member was back aboard the Nautilus, he would have to ask about how extensive Sawyer's knowledge of cars was.

The car's four headlights lit up the pre-dawn night as the vehicle roared down the cobbled road. One piece of Quatermain's plan was now in motion.

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"Would I be asking the impossible if you have any idea where Gray is now?" Quatermain half-growled in Malloy's direction.

"He's in custody," the senior Secret Service agent answered stiffly. "I'm waiting for the damn British consulate to take him off our hands, but since you're here, I'll gladly let you have the snotty bastard."

The hunter balked. "I won't let Gray anywhere near Sawyer!"

Malloy smirked. "Mr. Sawyer won't be."

His hazel-brown eyes sparking angrily, Allan calmed himself. He'd get his satisfaction when they boarded the Nautilus with Sawyer in tow, but it was getting harder to keep his cool with this 'man'. "This is getting us nowhere," the explorer muttered, looking towards Tom's small home. He should be in there with the lad, not trading useless barbs with Malloy.

"About time you realized the truth," the head spy couldn't help but dig. "I'm going inside. If you want to stay out here and lick your wounds...be my guest."

"What bloody wounds?" Quatermain bellowed, furious that his comment was taken as an admission of defeat. "I'm not conceding any ground to you!" A split second after the words left his mouth, a meaty fist connected with his jaw, sending the aging hero crashing to the ground.

Pleased with the effect his punch had on the adventurer, Malloy turned on his heel. "You just did, you stupid ass," he sniped back towards Quatermain. "You're well past your glory days old man; you'd have done better staying dead."

Though not unconscious, Quatermain fought the strong swimming sensation overtaking his body. Malloy must've been one hell of a boxer! With a grunt, he hauled himself onto his knees, willing his body to follow his mental order to fully stand. He had to get back to Sawyer before the boy disappeared under the Secret Service's wishes. After a valiant try, the elderly adventure dropped back to the ground, and cursed under his breath. How could he have let his guard down, and fallen for something so obvious?

Drawing on an inner strength the hunter had fortified from numerous experiences back in Africa, Allan finally raised himself slowly from the ground. Though still shaky, Quatermain moved forward, shrugging off any help a few of Nemo's crewmen were offering him. He couldn't appear weak and feeble when he caught up with Malloy. There was something more behind that punch, and it left the explorer with the exact feeling he had when he last faced James Moriarty: a knife in his back.

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Fiddling with his pocket watch, Dr. Jekyll waited anxiously for Quatermain and Malloy to return. What was going on outside? Were the two men straightening out their differences over Sawyer, or were they making things even worse?

"The old dinosaur probably shot the spy," Mr. Hyde snickered in back of the medical man's mind.

"There wasn't any gunshots," Henry muttered under his breath in response.

"Well then, Quatermain probably slit his throat or strangled him. That Malloy has to be permanently removed; it's the only way we'll get the toddler out of the country. The old man knows it as well as I do," Hyde persisted, his tone turning caustic as he turned his full attention to his other half. "Those two hate each other, and yet here you are, thinking they can work things out. You're a pathetic sod, Henry. Your only worth is because of me..."

At first stung by the words, Jekyll looked towards the bedroom where the blonde agent was resting under Skinner's watch. "I think Tom might beg to differ," the doctor said with a tinge of self-satisfaction.

"Bah! What does the boy know? He's barely out of childhood!"

"Tom knows he's still alive," Henry countered. "I've been helping others long before you cursed my life. I can help, heal, and offer hope whereas you only destroy."

"You'll need me, Henry," Edward Hyde rumbled, his voice fading into the background of Jekyll's mind. "It'll only be a matter of time before I'm unleashed."

Covering his face between his shaky hands, Jekyll tried to calm the dread inside at Hyde's ominous prediction. If Edward was released, would the behemoth be a help or a hindrance? The doctor's gloomy musings were interrupted by Malloy's sudden entrance.

The supervisor of the Secret Service yanked open the front door as if it was a mere piece of wood, a temporary nuisance to overcome as he strode purposely towards a wall near Tom's kitchen area. When Dr. Jekyll neared, Malloy pushed the smaller man back with a deliberate, hard shove, sending Henry falling to the floor.

Finally at his desired goal, Malloy reached out and grabbed the receiver of the phone that hung on the wall, pressing a button upon the contraption before winding up the crank on the side of the case.

Jekyll pushed himself up from the hardwood floor, his nerves tingling in alarm. Where was Allan? "What is all this about?" Henry asked angrily. "Why isn't Mr. Quatermain with you?" Malloy didn't answer the questions, instead demanding the operator on the phone line to get him in touch with the Department of the Treasury immediately.

"Dammit, hurry up," the master spy growled into the receiver. "This is important!"

"LET ME OUT!" Hyde screamed in fury. "The bastard is going to doom us all if I don't snap his neck now!"

As the doctor fought with the choice to drink the elixir to stop the agent from bringing reinforcements, a loud click echoed in the air, and Jekyll found himself staring into the barrel of Malloy's pistol.

"Don't move." Malloy said icily as his eyes sparked dangerously at Dr. Jekyll. Raising his hands up to show he would be no threat, Henry backed up a few steps.

"Think of Tom, how all the chaos will affect him," Jekyll pleaded.

"Everything I'm doing has Mr. Sawyer as the main objective!" the senior agent snapped, not bothering to hide the hatred in his tone. "You damn freaks are going to ruin everything!" The gun raised higher. "You know I could shoot you right now and be totally justified..."

"Go ahead." Quatermain stood in the open doorway of the house, his body resting against the door frame. "Though I'm afraid you won't get the results you're looking for." Reaching inside his coat pocket, the seasoned explorer pulled out some bullets. "I took the liberty of emptying your gun barrel along with a few other threatening items from your person while you were out cold earlier." Allan grinned smugly as he entered inside the livingroom, pleased at the sound of the receiver slamming against the phone case. "The spy game must have changed over the years. In my day, you never left a potential foe with the means to destroy you...especially when they're down."

Inwardly fuming, Malloy appeared unfazed by the older man's words on the outside. The lead spy cursed himself for not checking his weapon first. His well honed alertness was being thrown off the mark by this old coot. "You're in my territory, Quatermain, so you better forget trying to pull a fast one to sneak Sawyer out of the country. Not only will you and your freak show rejects suffer, but Sawyer will as well." The American folded his arms resolutely across his chest, and stared hard at Allan. "You and the 'good'doctor keep telling me to think of Sawyer, but are you really doing it?"

Allan ground his teeth before answering, but kept his tone civil since he was back inside the house. "We have a meeting with the President tomorrow to discuss Sawyer being able to-"

"A settled issue," Malloy interrupted. "You'll receive the same reply as before...a no. Do you honestly think that the great Allan Quartermain can't be turned down? Or maybe that's why you snuck into the country well before your expected arrival. Was there a back-up plan to bring Agent Sawyer into the League by any means necessary?"

"We were afraid of Tom disappearing like his fellow agents," Dr. Jekyll said, forcing himself into the conversation. "Until the meeting with the President, we wanted to make sure Tom stayed protected."

Malloy rolled his eyes and let out a snort of disbelief. "Oh really? You've done such a great job of it tonight. I'm sorry I doubted your motives since you all have such stellar reputations," he said with venomous sarcasm, "but I until I hear from the President's own mouth that Agent Sawyer is allowed back into the League, I'm taking over 'my' agent's welfare, and none of you will be able to do a damn thing about it."

As he turned to once again to grab the telephone receiver, Malloy stopped his forward motion, a strange screeching sound hitting his ears. Immediately looking towards the League's leader, the head spy could see the confidence beaming from the Briton.

Cursing under his breath, Malloy stormed over to the still opened door, prepared to face whatever Quatermain had in store next. When he viewed the magnificent machine parked outside of Tom's house, the supervisor remembered the vehicle also being at Ambassador Masterson's earlier.Who else was missing from Quatermain's monstrosity list? The car, the nautical garb that was more fitting of a native of India...this had to be Captain Nemo. A pirate who stole and terrorized the seafaring world for years. Malloy gave a small groan. Great. Another pain in the ass.

When he saw Ambassador Masterson exit the elaborate car, Malloy gave a scornful laugh. "Oh, what have we here? You got a British diplomat on your side? I'd say he's got about as much authority as you, Quatermain." Peering into the dawning light, the spy made out another figure leaving from the opposite side of the automobile. "Who the hell did Masterson bring with him?" he muttered in disgust. "Might as well be the privy cleaner for all the good it'll do."

It was Allan's turn to laugh when Malloy's mouth literally dropped open from recognition.

President McKinley? Here?

"What? How the hell did you manage...?" Malloy sputtered with anger and shock in Quatermain's direction. He quickly recovered, sounding off on the older man. "What kind of lies did you tell the President to get him to come here? You won't get away with it! This is my country, dammit, and no ancient limey is going to say how things are run!"

"That's my job description, Mr. Malloy," President McKinley said firmly as he walked up to the master agent, his face only inches from the spy's. "If you would kindly remove your body from the doorway, I would like to fully enter the home."

"Yes Sir, Mr. President," Malloy said sheepishly as he side-stepped to the right of the doorframe.

Hiding his delight inside at his plan working in front of the querulous spy, Quatermain pushed past Malloy and shook the American leader's hand. "President McKinley, I'm Allan Quatermain," the hunter said respectfully. "I apologize for springing this on you so soon, but after tonight's failed kidnaping of Agent Sawyer, I felt compelled to contact you immediately."

"I would like to see Agent Sawyer myself before we begin any discussions," the President replied, looking past the adventurer to survey his surroundings. The smell of blood still hung in the air, causing the leader to wonder on how close to death Sawyer had come.

Henry came up beside McKinley. "I'm Dr. Jekyll, Mr. President. I'll take you to him," he offered, ushering the man towards Tom's bedroom. "He's resting right now, so we must stay quiet."

The President nodded his understanding, and went with the doctor, the action making Malloy furious. Who the hell did these foreigners think they were? Acting like they were in charge! The master spy started out after McKinley, but Quatermain placed a restraining arm across Malloy's expansive chest, stopping his forward motion.

"Don't you dare try to stop me! Agent Sawyer doesn't work for you," Malloy spat out viciously.

"Not yet," Allan smirked. "Let's not make a bigger ass of yourself in front of your country's leader, hmm?"

"Go to Hell," the supervisor snarled, jerking his body out from under Quatermain's arm.

"And who might this agitated man be?" Nemo asked with an slight grin as he entered inside the house.

Giving the native of India a venomous glare, Malloy said spitefully, "You can join Quatermain in Hell too."

"Nemo, this is Sawyer's supervisor, Mr. Patrick Malloy," Quatermain said with exaggerated cheerfulness. The old explorer chuckled out loud at the smoldering look he received from the American agent.

"This disagreeable man is young Sawyer's boss?" the Captain asked incredulously. "You would think a man in his position would not be so... 'sour' in his temperament." Masterson choked back a laugh out of politeness, but Quatermain let out a boisterous howl of amusement.

"I'd watch it, if I were you!" Malloy threw his heated gaze back to Quatermain. "You will all regret messing with me..." The humor left the others in the room when they heard the words spoken. There was no doubt in the supervisor's tone to the seriousness of the threat.

To Malloy, it was a promise.

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President McKinley held back a gasp of surprise when he first viewed Tom's sleeping form. He had spoken to the blonde agent briefly the day before, but the young man he saw now seemed like an imposter. Gone was the healthy glow that the spy normally wore upon his features, and the hazel eyes were closed, oblivious to the danger about him.

The Thomas Sawyer he knew was a boundless supply of youthful vigor and inquisitiveness, usually unable to sit still for long, lest he miss out on anything. Yet this same agent possessed the stealth and patience of a cat if the case called for it, holding off till right moment to catch his prey, no matter the wait.

A small sigh left the American leader. It truly was disheartening to see Sawyer in this state of vulnerability. He turned to Dr. Jekyll. "Captain Nemo mentioned your name as other doctor who helped Mr. Sawyer," the President spoke quietly. "Will he recover fully?"

"Yes. He received a clean shot through the thigh, and if he gets plenty of rest, Mr. Sawyer should be back to his feisty form in a month or so."

Grinning slightly at the use of the term 'feisty', McKinley thought back to the day Agent Sawyer had presented his case to go to Europe to stop the Fantom. There was no fear or nervousness in the young agent; only a strong determination along with a dose of well-played charm. The President had guessed the real motive behind the request was to avenge Agent Finn's murder, but Sawyer was tenacious and clever in his arguments, bolstering his claim to be the best agent suited to finish the mission.

At the end of the day, McKinley overruled Agent Sawyer's superiors, and approved the trip to England. The President had met many of the Secret Service's agents over his term, but none seemed more naturally adept for the role of spy than Sawyer. That fact alone was a major catalyst in McKinley's decision.

McKinley shook himself from his thoughts. He knew what had to be done. Shaking Dr. Jekyll's hand, the President left the bedroom, instantly meeting Quatermain's gaze.

"Gentlemen, I would like to speak to Mr. Quatermain alone," the President said with an authoritative tone. "Would you please step outside?"

"Mr. President, I must insist--"

Placing his hands behind his back, McKinley frowned. "Mr. Malloy, you may insist all you like, but do it quietly to yourself...and outside."

Casting one last fuming glare at the adventurer, Malloy left the house along with Masterson, Nemo, and Jekyll. Skinner stayed inside Sawyer's room, his invisibility aiding in keeping his vigil over Tom's safety a secret.

"I'd like to thank you, Mr. President, for your rapid response to the Queen's request," Allan said with a slight dip of his white head. "I was asked by my government to investigate the recent disappearances of agents from all over the globe..."

"And Agent Sawyer's safety was upmost in your mind," the President surmised, knowing he had hit a nerve when he watched Quatermain briefly struggle to retain a passive look. McKinley could tell from the facial falter that the hunter cared about what happened to the young agent. It poured from the older man like a parent concerned over a child; something the President knew about all too well. Still, there were more things to consider before giving his answer.

"As a great hero of Britannia, you would assuredly have the Queen's ear, and I have no doubt that you persuaded Her Majesty to write this letter urging Agent Sawyer's liaison with the League." McKinley paused, and stared hard into the explorer's face. "Why is it so important to have this particular agent involved?"

"We've worked well with Sawyer, and find him to be more than capable to handle what may lie ahead," Quatermain answered unwaveringly, though inside he was brewing with worry. He had honestly expected the President to concur to the Queen's petition without question. "I also understand, Mr. President, that you yourself overruled the Secret Service, and sent Sawyer to England. You obviously see his potential as well."

"Yes, Agent Sawyer is rather exceptional, but at this moment of crisis, we need every good agent we have, Mr. Quatermain, and I agree with the Secret Service on that point." The words were said bluntly, causing Allan's hope to dip. "Yet, I do understand Queen Victoria's or should I say...your... position where it would benefit the United States if we did have one of our own within your group."

The seasoned explorer found himself holding his breath as he waited for the next words spoken from McKinley's mouth. Would his perfect plan be turned on its head by the League being offered a different agent?

"I will grant the request to have Agent Sawyer join The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen," the President said with a slight upturn at his mouth, "but I am only doing this for my country's welfare, not because of any other outside pressures. Agent Sawyer is working for the American government only, and if there is any conflict in that duty, he will be removed immediately. Am I clear on that point, Mr. Quatermain?"

"Of course, Mr. President," Allan said quickly, trying not to appear overly grateful.

"If Dr. Jekyll approves it, I would like to have Agent Sawyer taken to the Nautilus straight away," the President continued, his features turning grave. "Fortunately you were able to stop his abduction tonight, and I can think of nowhere safer to keep the young man than Captain Nemo's submarine. From this point on, you will have the total cooperation of the American government to stop this threat, and, if God willing, get our agents back alive."

Allan nodded his head vigorously. "Speaking on behalf of the League, we'd truly appreciate the assistance, Mr. President." The hunter stopped, raised voices hitting his hearing. He frowned in consternation when he heard Malloy's voice bellowing through the din.

"Mrs. O'Brien! You cannot go in there!" Malloy was nearly screaming outside the front door.

"I don't care if the President himself's inside!" a female voice shouted back. "My dear Tom needs me!"

'A woman?' Quatermain pondered to himself. Did Sawyer have a sweetheart? And a married one at that? No, he couldn't see the blonde American doing something that egregious, she was probably a young widow, like Mrs. Harker. The hunter smiled to himself. Yes, he could see Sawyer doing something like that. Probably quite a beauty too.

Aimee O'Brien bounded through the front door, her green eyes aglow with fierce determination. Nothing or no one was going to prevent her from seeing the lad. Hands on her hips, she inspected the two men standing in front of her with a withering look. The smaller built man did seem familiar for some reason, but she couldn't put a name to the face. It didn't matter. They wouldn't be blocking her way for long.

"Don't neither of you gents get any ideas of stopping me," Mrs. O'Brien said tersely, attempting to walk between Quatermain and the President. "I'm seeing 'my' Tom."

Recovering from the surprise of seeing a middle-aged woman instead of a comely, young widow, Allan grabbed a hold of the woman's left arm. "And you are?" A stinging smack upon the top of his restraining hand was the answer.

"Don't argue with her, Quatermain," Malloy muttered as he came to the entrance of the front door, rubbing his upper right arm as if he was feeling some pain in it. "She's only a threat to the people who try to stop her."

Surprised at the lead spy's comment, Allan lessened his grip on the woman's arm. Who the hell was she that even Malloy kowtowed to her? Other than being very vocal and pushy, she didn't seem dangerous. The hunter frowned in aggravation. This Mrs. O'Brien was not the beauty that Mrs. Harker was, but she certainly shared similarities with the vampiress in attitude.

Smirking triumphantly, Mrs. O'Brien jerked her arm free of the explorer's hold, and entered inside Sawyer's room cautiously, not wanting to startleTom unnecessarily. Henry came hurrying inside the home seconds later, waving off Quatermain from going into the bedroom. He would handle this situation.

Mrs. O'Brien's eyes filled with tears when she saw her beloved Tom. Though childless, she and her husband had adopted the three Missouri boys into their hearts, and the sight of her secret 'favorite' so still and pale tore at the fiber of her motherly instincts.

Skinner silently moved closer to the bed to protect Sawyer, but Jekyll's appearance in the room stopped his approach towards the unexpected intruder. His teammate obviously knew who the woman was. The invisible man held his position, waiting in case he would be needed.

A hand gently touched her shoulder, and Mrs. O'Brien turned to look into the sympathetic face of Dr. Jekyll. "What happened to my precious boy, Doctor?"

"Tom was hurt, and he lost a lot of blood," Jekyll answered quietly. "He'll be all right, Mrs. O'Brien, just needs to rest and build his strength back up. Why don't I escort you back home..."

Mrs. O'Brien shook her head forcefully. "Thank you, Dr. Jekyll, but I'm not leaving my precious Tom's side till I see those beautiful eyes of his open myself." Viewing the chair beside Sawyer's bed, she planted herself into the seat, and reached out to stroke Tom's blonde mane. "My Charlie is going to be along any minute with some essentials, so if you could help him get things settled, it would be greatly appreciated."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. O'Brien, but you can't stay here," Henry disagreed politely. "Everything is under control now. Tom is safe."

A brief flash of defiance shown in the woman's face before she answered. "Safe? Safe from what, Doctor? Did someone deliberately harm my Tom?" The alarm in her voice began to rise. "Someone did! Who would dare hurt such a sweet lad? It was that Mr. Gray wasn't it? I didn't like that man the moment I laid eyes on him, I didn't."

Jekyll bit down on the inside of his lip. How much should he say? If he acted like it was an accidental wound, it would be offending the lady's intelligence, but to admit to the true danger Tom had faced wasn't a wise move either. It was doubtful Sawyer told the O'Brien's the full extent of his 'employment'. And Mr. Dorian Gray's involvement...well...that was a totally different matter.

Rubbing on this throbbing temples, Henry fought back the exhaustion beginning to overtake his control. Between the worry over Sawyer and treating his injury, lack of sleep, dealing with Quatermain's moodiness, and Patrick Malloy's hostile attitude, it was a wonder he had kept Hyde's personality in check so well. As much as he liked Mrs. O'Brien and understood her devotion to Tom, her stubbornness was grating on his last nerve.

With a heavy sigh, Dr. Jekyll excused himself from the room. God help him, but he was going to let Allan contend with Mrs. O'Brien. It had to be better than Mr. Hyde.