A/N: Not sure if I'll get another chapter up before the holiday, but if I don't, Happy Turkey Day! I'm thankful for all of you, cheers!
Chapter 25- Intermission
"It is not tolerable, it is not possible, that from so much death, so much sacrifice and ruin, so much heroism, a greater and better humanity shall not emerge."
-Charles de Gaulle
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Damian was a little surprised to be back at his old job- at the office, anyway, and as odd as it was, sitting in one of Nathan's overstuffed chairs across from his desk in his underwear was even more strange. Not for his sake since he stopped caring long ago, but it somehow felt disrespectful to his boss even though he was ordered to take his pants off so Emma could see how bad the damage was while Luke waited his turn to be seen by the doctor.
Nathan did seem a little bothered, but it wasn't because his former intern was half naked in his office- a situation that would under normal circumstances raise questions- he had an entire room full of specials that had just destroyed his program's detainment facilities. Although it was well after hours and the building was mostly empty, he was still on guard. As the unknown father of the rebellion, he felt a sense of duty to see it through to the end and he would do his best to protect them until the time that they were able to walk about in public freely, but he only had so much latitude. It was all too easy for one of them to slip into the grey area where he could not reach them. Damian and Claire were living proof of his occasional lack of influence, and he was cautious not to declare victory until some semblance of a normal existence returned.
Noah adjusted his glasses and looked around at the group of individuals that he had at some points attempted to aid and at others had a hand in detaining. Hiro was excitedly relaying the moment of the Virginia explosion for Ando and West while Matt chuckled good naturedly at Mohinder's elevator experience. It was like some bizarre cocktail party interjected between history changing events. Claire joined her father with a small, weary smile that made him proud of her and yet a little sad that she was not the same little girl he'd always known. "Congratulations, Claire." He stated, wrapping his arm around her shoulder in a protective manner. He couldn't help it. No matter how old she was or how life's circumstances may have played out, she would always be his Claire-Bear. "I'm proud of what you did tonight. It was no small thing."
She watched Emma examine the wound on Damian's leg as he lay his head back on the chair and pretended it didn't hurt. Luke looked on with a morbid fascination as though he'd never seen anyone bleed before, but maybe he was just nervous about his turn. Mohinder's hands were already wrapped in white gauze from the cuts he sustained in his raid and it all made her realize that it was a monumental effort, but it came at a cost. They were lucky enough to return, and it underscored the fact that many in the war did not. As she looked around the room, it dawned on her that not everyone had arrived. "Where's Peter and Sylar?" She asked her father with a worried expression. Surely they didn't fail their mission. If they did, all their collective efforts would have been wasted.
"They're not coming." He said gently. He knew his daughter probably didn't give a damn about Sylar's presence, but she would no doubt be worried about Peter. "Nathan and I are handling things from here on out."
"Why aren't they coming?" She asked numbly. Her mind spun with the worst possibilities. S2 was the great equalizer and they could have been captured or killed.
Noah gave her a sad smile and left her to stand next to Nathan. "Attention, everyone." He called to quiet the room. "First off, congratulations to you all on your successful missions. That concludes phase I of the plan. You are all here to complete phase II." He gave an uneasy glace to Nathan, who seemed unusually solemn. "We know that what we're about to ask of you may in some respects seem even harder than what you just experienced, but you'll just have to trust us that this is the best way to end the war for good."
Nathan gave a tight nod toward Emma and her small group of patients. "We'll have to change the plan a little to compensate for some unexpected mishaps, but we'll manage. Now," he continued in a serious tone as he began to pace behind his desk, "under no circumstance are you to speak about anything that has happened here tonight with anyone. Not with other specials, not even your own mothers or a priest on your deathbed. Am I understood?" He got a reluctant, if not confused series of nods from those present. "Good. We are only going to tell you what you absolutely need to know in regards to the second stage of the mission. I know you'll have questions, but for now don't ask, just do. Time is short and we don't have the luxury of detailing everything. As Noah said, in light of what you'll be asked to do, it may seem incredible but we just need a group who will follow orders and trust that all the details have been worked out. If this will be a problem for you, tell us now."
It all sounded so top secret that it was inherently frightening. "It kind of depends." West laughed nervously. "I mean, are we supposed to rape someone or what? I need some context before I can make that decision."
"Not rape." Noah coldly corrected. "Murder."
"Murder." Mohinder restated, placing his hands on his hips in disbelief. "And this will stop the war. Shedding more blood will stop the bloodshed? I don't follow the logic."
"Where the hell's Sylar?" Matt asked looking around. "You should be asking him this. I guarantee you he'd have no problem with it."
Nathan sighed deeply, his large brown eyes filled with fatigue and just a hint of uncertainty although his voice was resolute. "He's the target." He had just done the one thing he had always avoided: directly giving an order for someone's death and it made his stomach turn. One of the last lines that separated him from truly bad men had just been blurred, perhaps irrevocably.
The entire room fell silent in shock until Luke gave voice to what everyone was thinking. "You can't be serious."
"Is…is this part of the plan change?" Ando asked tentatively. "Does he know about this?" No rational human being could ever agree to such a thing and it felt like a double cross of epic proportion. No matter what Sylar had done in his past, ever since the war began he had done nothing but fight and risk his own life for the cause and to go along would be doing him a great dishonor. Then again, if his death would indeed end the war and better the lives of millions, which would be the greater disservice?
Noah removed a series of handguns from one of Nathan's desk drawers to give to Claire, Matt, Luke, and Hiro. "Sylar will be executed tonight and you will be the ones to do it. The world will be watching, so make it count." He paused in front of Mohinder and gave him an apologetic shrug. "We'll have to find a gun for you. We weren't expecting company." He glanced back at Luke to find him smiling a little too eagerly at the thought of having a weapon.
"No, that will be fine." He replied with a tense, sick smile. "If we are to shoot him to death, I believe that I will withdraw from duty." He knew that when it came down to it, when he was staring down the sight of his gun aimed at Sylar's body, he wouldn't be able to make himself pull the trigger. The very real damage that would result from his action would just be too much for him to live with. If Sylar or anyone else wanted to take another's life it was not for him to judge, but he had to make his own choices. "That is an awful way to kill someone, you know. If he is not immediately killed, he will suffer for perhaps several minutes, conscious of every excruciatingly painful second as he slowly bleeds to death or his damaged lungs fill with blood and he chokes and eventually suffocates."
West looked down at his gun and muttered, "Jesus." Real life did not approximate a video game and he hadn't really thought about it until Mohinder described the process. There was a time when he vowed he would kill Sylar if he ever had the chance and now that he did, he too was having to question his ability to actually go through with it.
"That's why I'm taking the kill shot." Noah sighed. "You all will aim and fire, but I'll make sure the job gets done." Aside from perhaps Matt, he was the only marksman who could guarantee the kind of accuracy they needed.
"But why us?" Hiro asked perplexed.
"Sylar knew it would end this way." Nathan calmly responded in a resigned tone as though he were already dead. "It was what he wanted. Perhaps it was his one chance to give you all a little measure of satisfaction for the things he has done, I don't know. But it was his request and as an added measure of security and anonymity, you'll all be wearing riot gear helmets with darkened face shields so no one can identify you."
"Oh, that's awesome," Luke snarked. "Got anything to keep my own brain from knowing that I killed him so I can live with myself and sleep at night?"
"We're almost out of time, people." Noah reminded them in a stern tone. "These are high caliber weapons, so use a two handed grip and brace yourselves for the recoil. Take one shot and one shot only. Just remember to aim for the center of his body, but try to stay away from his head." He absentmindedly checked his own personal gun he always wore to ensure it was loaded. "He may or may not be wearing a hood and that's just being unnecessarily messy."
"Wait." Claire piped up, finally shaken from the locked stare she held on her loaded weapon. "He might be able to see us? He'll be looking right at us while we shoot him?"
"Maybe." Noah stressed as he holstered his gun. "But even if he can see you, he won't know who you are. When you are face to face with him, he won't be Sylar- it will just be Gabriel Gray."
For those in the room that ever knew him at a time when he didn't have powers, the information was anything but helpful. It made sense that the government would shoot him full of S2 to strip him of his abilities, but the name Gabriel Gray conjured up the image of an entirely different man. Hiro and Ando recalled the watchmaker who sank to the floor in front of his mother's locked bedroom door, deeply saddened by her rejection of him. Luke and West remembered him hanging in the barn, defenseless and nearly dead from the abuse he suffered while he prayed for someone, anyone to show him just a little mercy. Even Matt and Mohinder knew that for the week that he lived as a slave, there was something different about him. Just past the bravado was a sense of fear- fear of being dominated, or abandoned, or ignored.
Noah was right- Gabriel Gray was not Sylar and knowing that they were executing an ordinary man made the task all that more difficult and revolting.
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Peter sat at the large conference table and bit his lip in irritation. Sylar had been hauled off to parts unknown over an hour ago while Agent Carter drug her feet on 'verifying' his orders- whatever that meant. Conveniently, the damage to the servers precluded receiving e-mails or faxes, but just why in the hell it took so long to pick up a damn phone to call Washington was beyond him. What he did know was that he was being jerked around, but he suspected it had more to do with Sylar than it did him. He really had nothing other than his gut instinct to go on, but he knew that his partner was a wanted man and no doubt the doctors that were meant to stabilize him were doing anything but in a mad rush to gather data while he was still vulnerable. He just couldn't shake the utter feeling of fear that spiked through Sylar's body at the mention of them. It wasn't part of the plan and it may have been his fault if he caused more damage than he'd intended to. He tried his best to precisely place the bullets where he wanted them with a mix of aim and telekinesis, but he was worried that his effort wasn't good enough. Even with his abilities at a fraction, Sylar could either bleed to death or worse yet, heal fast enough for them to notice and then the jig would certainly be up.
The door opened with a soft swoosh and Carter entered, wearing a congenial smile. "Alright, Agent Burke. Your credentials check out." She seemed almost disappointed and Peter tried not to look too surprised. He didn't know how deep Rebel implanted their fake data or just how Carter managed to research him with the system down, but apparently he'd constructed an entire second life for them just in case something like this were to happen. "We're just trying to reach a representative for Senator Petrelli to confirm transportation. I hope you understand why we have to be certain given the magnitude of who you're escorting and the extent of the damage we have suffered tonight."
"Of course." He granted in a professional tone. "But I shot him four times myself. I'm pretty confident he'll be easy to handle without his abilities."
Carter gave him a tense smirk. "Many people have made that mistake, Mr. Burke, and haven't lived to tell about it. Animals are most dangerous when their wounded."
"You think he's an animal?"
She laughed lightly. "We all are on some level. Some people are sheep who blindly follow, some are wild horses who can't be tamed, and a select few are sharks like Sylar- silent, stealthy, calculated predators."
"What do you think I am?" He asked amused. There was no right or wrong answer, but he thought that maybe if he played along and indulged her ego she might move faster to get him the hell out of the room and on with his business.
"I would say an eagle. Your eyesight must be incredible." She leaned forward on the table and gently folded her hands in front of her. "Or you're extraordinarily lucky."
Her almost accusatory posture put him on guard. "What does that mean?"
She sat back in her chair and sighed. "I'm amazed that you were able to sneak up on Sylar like that and manage to only wound him- four times. Not one shot hit center mass. Simply incredible."
Peter squinted at her and coolly retorted, "It's skill, not luck. My orders were to bring him back alive. I can't do that if he dies from sepsis from a gut shot. I just needed to disable him and his abilities, and I did. End of story."
"And so you succeed where everyone else we could place in his path has failed." She gave him a sarcastic golf clap and added, "Well done. You know, I just can't shake the feeling that I know you."
"No." He shook his head in disgust. "You don't." Truthfully, he knew all he wanted to know about her.
"You look so familiar. Where would I have seen you before?" She persisted.
Peter tilted his head slightly and it appeared that he was pondering her question when what he was really doing was probing her mind for an answer that would satisfy her. "I work for Senator Petrelli, we might have passed each other at his office or something. Look, I don't have all night here. I have him on speed dial and I'll be happy to call him to get this all straightened out if you can't seem to get it done. I've been patient with you, but in two minutes I'm walking out that door and I'm leaving with my prisoner."
"Go ahead." She challenged him. "Call him." She was betting that he was bluffing. There was just something about him that didn't quite ring true.
He held her gaze as he removed his phone from his vest and placed it down on the table in Skype so she could hear everything and see that it was indeed the person he claimed it was. As soon as Nathan picked up, Peter was quick to jump in to let him know it wasn't a friendly call. "Senator Petrelli," he greeted in a firm, business like tone, "Agent Burke. Sorry to call you so late, Senator, but we need a little clarification."
Nathan immediately picked up on his brother's tone before he even used his pseudonym and his eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. If his brother was calling him, then something had gone wrong. "Of course, Agent Burke. What can I do for you?" He pleasantly smiled.
He took a deep breath and hoped that he could manage to sound official although he never really had much practice at such things. "I was successful in capturing the target, Sir, but the facility here has been destroyed. I have Agent Stephanie Carter here with me and she just needs verification that I was indeed instructed to capture Sylar and transport him back to Washington."
"That was the agreement, yes." Nathan confirmed. "Congratulations. I'm sure there will be a promotion in your future."
Peter laughed. He didn't want a promotion, what he really hoped for was a demotion- right out of a job. "Thank you, Sir." He looked up at Carter with an 'I told you so' smile and added, "I'll be there in a few hours then."
"We'll be waiting." To the casual observer, Nathan appeared all certitude, but Peter knew him better than that. He could hear the slight undertone of tense fatigue in his voice and he identified completely with it.
Peter put his phone back in his vest and stood up from the table with a weary sigh. "Now, where's Sylar?"
She reluctantly had to admit defeat. She still wasn't completely convinced that everything was on the up and up, but she could think of no other means to delay or detain him. "Follow me." She instructed.
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In the basement of the building where the shells of the servers he had destroyed were still smoldering, Sylar sat tied to a cold, metal chair that had been hastily bolted to the floor so it wouldn't tip over. Everything was tinged red, but he didn't know if it was the glow from the emergency lights or if the ruby tinge came from the blood that ran into his eyes. In the end it didn't matter- he couldn't do anything about it, or rather he chose not to.
Volition and the power of will was something that Sylar was intimate with. His inherent drive to be special, to know, and to survive was insatiable and it carried him through the darkest periods of his life. But as he sat there shivering from the cold and shock, he found himself forcibly suppressing his urge to break free and annihilate his tormentors. Although enough of his powers remained that he could have defended himself, he allowed his restraints to contain him and he permitted the vengeful agents to take out their frustrations on him. Every kick, every blow, every second that he sat there and took the beating was a gift and a necessity. He had to let them believe he was powerless for the sake of the plan, and so he sat in his chair like an obedient and broken villain while the supposed good guys took a righteous sense of vindication in his suffering.
"I hope they skin you alive when you get to Washington." One agent snarled as he gave him a solid right hook that nearly knocked him out.
"Must suck to be you." Another laughed. "Even your own kind thinks you're a bastard."
"Game's over." Yet another sniggered. "I hope they keep your head alive in a jar in some deep, dark warehouse so you can stare at the inside of a crate for the rest of eternity."
The group assaulted him with a flurry of strikes that left them winded and he bloodied and barely conscious. Through it all he said nothing, further fueling their hatred of him. If he would have begged them to stop, or in any way indicated that he was remorseful or guilty of the things they believed him to be, it might have given them pause. But rather than give them the added pleasure, he remained stubbornly silent and lightly panted in pain, blood dripping into his lap from his nose and mouth and he smiled broadly, his teeth tinged pink and his dark eyes danced with a spark of unassailable determination. An agent, infuriated by his audacity, gave him a roundhouse kick that landed squarely on one of his bullet wounds in his lower side. Sylar coughed and winced while the agents laughed.
"That's enough!" Peter yelled, his voice echoing across the cinderblock walls. "I didn't take him down so you could kill him." He crossed the distance from the stairwell to Sylar in a matter of seconds and gave the agents at stern look of disapproval as he worked on untying his prisoner. "Some medical staff you have here." He noted sarcastically as he handcuffed Sylar's trembling hands in front of his body rather than behind, no small act of mercy in Sylar's estimation. "Get up." He commanded his charge. He felt bad for being so apparently callous toward his partner, but he had to stay in character- at least until they could leave the facility.
Sylar slowly and painfully stood up, pausing midway to allow the cramping in his side to ease before gently stretching to his full height and towering over his captor. It wasn't Peter he was concentrated on, however. He gave the agents a deep, penetrating stare that clearly communicated ill intent, but he reserved his most contemptuous glare for Carter. Try as she might to appear stonily unconcerned, he delighted in the small glimmer of fear that simmered behind her eyes. She was afraid of him and she had every reason to be.
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Phase II of the plan was in motion and all of the participants had departed for the CIA's federal holding facility downtown. By now, thanks to a few strategic leaks, word was beginning to spread about Sylar's capture. All of the news outlets were covering the story and converging on the outskirts of the property, hoping to catch a glimpse of him as he was escorted to his death or maybe to talk to someone who could have even the remotest thing to add to the conversation. It was a media circus to be sure, but it was exactly the reaction they were hoping for.
Nathan paced his empty office while the chaos played out on his muted TV screen, unnerved by the unexpected phone call he received from his brother. Things must have been in a mess for him to reach out, but he hoped that it was a minor glitch and that the plan was still going forward. Some minor adjustments had to be made with Mohinder's conscientious objection to his duty and Damian's reassignment.
He didn't really know what to make of the deaf doctor that Peter had found, he thought she was just quiet until he was informed of the nature of her disability, but she seemed unusually nervous. When pressed about her commitment to the project, she confessed that she had never actually done an autopsy before. The closest she had come to such a thing was the dissection of a cadaver for her first year gross anatomy class and that wasn't exactly the same level of skill or precision that was needed. Nathan was about to make a panicked call of his own to Peter, but he found an unlikely savior in his formerly mousy intern. Damian had worked in a morgue as a lab tech and had observed many autopsies. He wasn't a professionally trained surgeon, but he had plenty on the job experience. It was decided that between the two, they could do a fair and convincing job, but Noah perhaps wisely advised them not to tell Sylar about it- ever.
He reached for his jacket on the back of his chair when there was a knock at the door and Senator McCaskey entered with a beaming smile. "You ready?" He asked gleefully as though he could hardly wait to see another human being be murdered in front of his very eyes. "Your adoring crowd awaits their hero."
Nathan felt sick. "I'm no hero." He assured his colleague.
"Aren't you proud of this moment?" McCaskey asked perplexed. In his world, it was good triumphing over evil and he just couldn't fathom how anyone could have second thoughts about the divine purity of it all.
"Only because it means the end of the war."
McCaskey laughed and shook his head. "It's only starting, Petrelli."
Nathan felt the rage boil up inside of him. He knew a double cross was a possibility given McCaskey's fevered bent on eradicating all specials. "What?"
He smoothed his white hair and gave him a disingenuous smile. "Such an idealist. Now that Sylar's out of the way, we can finally wipe them out like the cockroaches they are, Petrelli. Without him to protect them, it will be all in a day's work."
"He was captured through your Chimera project." Nathan hissed. "It's proof that it works. Specials and ordinary humans can live side by side. Sylar's the threat, not all people with abilities."
"And where did he come from?" He asked patiently. "If we don't get rid of them all, more like him could appear and we'll be back at square one. To eradicate a cancer, you remove the entire tumor- not just a few cells."
Nathan slowly approached his fellow lawmaker until he was nearly toe to toe with him. "I worked within your project to bring you Sylar, but ultimately it wasn't me who caught him- it was other specials. If you want my advice, take credit for the deal and walk away because the same people who brought down the most powerful evolved human on the planet can also make you disappear." He leaned in just a little closer and his voice was just barely an audible growl. "I'm warning you, McCaskey, if you screw me over on this deal, I will end you."