Happy almost New Year! Here's a chapter! :-D
I loved hearing all of your reactions, Living Lucid Dream. It's definitely a lot to process, and I grinned when I read that you zeroed in on Clark's online training. It is very him. :-D Poor Jug, yes; we'll hopefully get more information soon on how worried they should be. I also loved hearing your reaction to Joaquin's reappearance (yay!) and I'm looking forward to hearing what you think as things play out with B, V, and the hard-hatted figure... and I'm excited about more clarity coming - and perhaps your instinct being correct about the prologue scene! :-D
Guest, it was so great to hear you are enjoying, and I loved your list of questions! I celebrate Christmas, so it was like a gift and also a wish list of questions to have answered by the end (I'm on it! :-D ), and you had such insightful observations. You always catch the details, and I was particularly impressed by your analysis of Donn's hurrying, his cursing, and then the abductors knowing that at least one was not FBI - and how those details come together to be odd... we'll see how many I can answer in this chapter. :)
Enjoy!
-Button
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Clark's car was not empty, but Brand immediately wished that it had been. Three cellphones, each one more damaged than the last, sat on the center console.
"Where is my son?" Fred lost any vestiges of the shock he'd been fighting through. He was suddenly sharply focused.
Agent Williams was climbing into an agency vehicle. Brand hurried to flag her down. "Wait, Williams. Where's the intern? Both of the interns, for that matter. They were supposed to wait here for me."
"They went to the field office with the SAC. Everyone was notified, Davies." Williams gave him a disdainful look. "And let the record show that Clark was not on those orders, but he went too. Something no doubt having to do with your unilateral decision to take him off of errands earlier today?"
Brand ignored her rhetorical question. His mind was racing, and Fred was grabbing his shoulder with all of the fury and panic of someone who had just been told that his only son had probably disappeared with a violent, psychotic criminal who possessed a badge and a security clearance.
"Was anyone else with them?"
"As in… someone without a clearance? Going to the field office?" Williams looked like she thought Brand was stupid.
"Yeah. There was." A man sitting in the passenger seat of the vehicle chimed in. "One of the construction workers was with them. He gave me his hard hat."
Fred's grip tightened painfully.
"They're together, Fred. With a federal agent who is on the clock. We'll get someone to pick them up from the field office," Brand said firmly. "This makes sense - mostly - and they've only been gone for a little while."
They still had no idea where FP was, or why Donn had taken Jones - let alone Clark, who was following orders, but still - and Archie's inclusion was just plain weird.
But they had their first step: get in touch with the field office.
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Veronica was starting to get more into the challenge of following Joaquin, but Betty was becoming increasingly reluctant as they got further away from the crowds that were at the edge of the disaster that the Southside High speech had become.
"Come on," Veronica urged her best friend. "We can't let Joaquin disappear again."
"We're a lot more likely to be noticed here." Betty tried to hold Veronica back. "We could accidentally tip them off that they've been seen, and then we might never find them again."
"We can actually help this time." Veronica gave Betty a determined look. "A little risk is worth it. And neither of them have turned around once - or slowed down."
They were moving quickly, and it was increasingly obvious that the taller man was forcibly hustling Joaquin away from Southside High. That seemed to support Betty's theory about Joaquin having been kidnapped - held captive - and forced against his will to participate in the attack at the speech.
The two men stopped at a run-down storefront that had concrete steps leading down to a basement-level entrance. Betty grabbed Veronica to stop her forward progress when it was clear that the two were about to reverse direction in order to go down the steps - and they would both be facing the girls when they did so.
And then they both gasped when they were - thankfully - not spotted, but the maneuver allowed them to recognize the taller man.
It was FP Jones.
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Alice and Kevin had seen Veronica and Betty start following two construction workers; one was clearly FP Jones, but they did not recognize the other from the back, particularly since both were covered in dust and dirt from the explosion.
"How much do you want to bet Veronica and Betty overheard something?" Alice gave Kevin an excited look.
"Are you sure that you're ready to put your money where your mouth is?" Kevin gave her a serious look, but it was approving. "I mean, okay, you just took Sweet Pea apart. That was amazing; respect. It's hard to believe he thinks the Serpents had nothing to do with blowing up Southside High, and you make a solid argument."
Alice's exact words had been 'the Serpents' message is obvious: they're telling the Northside to choke and die on their plans for reshaping the Southside.'
Sweet Pea had in fact choked - and then sputtered - in response to her phrasing, and the conversation had devolved speedily from there.
"But Alice, this is another level, especially if Mr. Jones is doing everything that you think he is. Someone just blew up the highschool. The Southside is not a place to make enemies." Kevin smirked darkly as he continued: "Or friends, for that matter."
"I am totally and completely sure, Kevin. Let's go." Alice started striding after Betty and Veronica. Provided those two did not lose their quarry, she and Kevin should run basically zero risk of losing the girls and would soon be able to find out what was going on.
They were not far behind them when they saw the girls recognize FP. Kevin gasped with recognition as well: "That's… Alice, that's Joaquin. He's alive. He cut his hair."
Alice patted Kevin's shoulder. "Well, we'll have to take the bad with the good. And if FP's accosting him, he may still be on the right side of all this. He might even have had to go into hiding to avoid all of the carnage that Mr. Jones is instigating."
Kevin did not reply. He simply stared at the door that the two Serpents had disappeared through.
"What do you want to do?" Alice asked. "We can wait and then follow them further. We could confront them, but I don't know if that would be safe."
"I…" Kevin stopped. "Let me think. I kind of want to go home. Be done. He's obviously fine, and what - nothing? Not even a text? For all this time? But…" Kevin bit his lip, "I might never see him again if I walk away now."
Alice nodded. That might well be true.
Betty and Veronica appeared to be waiting.
They waited too.
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When the vehicle came to a halt, Archie initiated their hands joining up once more. Both he and Clark were shaking again, though not as badly as when they'd first been grabbed from the van.
Then the door swung open beside them, and both of them began shaking a lot harder than they had been.
Jughead figured he had the advantage of having been through worse - though it was also a disadvantage, since he was very afraid of this situation taking a turn and becoming more like those experiences - but at this point he was certain that the painkillers were making him unnaturally calm.
After all, Clark was older and had both training and some experience, but he was quivering and had made a very compelling case for their lives being worth very little if these people had blown up the school and killed people in the process.
Jughead should be having a panic attack. This was so weird.
Brand had never actually said to Jughead that fear was a tool (perhaps because a lack of fear had never been his problem) but Jughead could tell that he was missing an edge that he normally had. Maybe an alertness.
His lack of agitation was really starting to worry him.
"Good boys." Jughead was closest to the open door, and he thought of Brand even more when a hand patted his head through the hood. "Leave those bags alone and you'll last a whole lot longer."
They'd made the right call leaving the hoods in place, then. That was nice to have confirmed.
Clark was shaking even harder, though.
Oh, right - that was officially their first threat. Jughead was definitely slower on the uptake than usual.
They were cut loose from the anchors and then tugged out of the vehicle; Jughead was able to gain his feet easily. When he was steered forward by one shoulder the others must also have been guided along.
They seemed to arrive at their destination after only a couple of minutes, and the remaining zip ties were cut - and then they were tied into wooden chairs before their hoods were finally removed.
Jughead stayed quiet and did not resist, but he tried to recall and implement everything that Brand had taught him to ensure that he'd be able to slip his bonds later. It already felt promising, and when the hood was whipped off of his head, almost with a flourish, he could tell in a glance that he'd likely be able to make short work of the knots holding Archie and Clark in their chairs as well.
Hopefully they'd be left alone.
Archie and Clark were looking around, and even though they were all blinking in the light, it was dim in the windowless room and their eyes adjusted quickly.
The masked men left, locking the door audibly behind them.
They were not even gagged. They could get free. This might turn out okay.
Whatever it was.
"I can't believe this is happening on American soil. Do you think we've been renditioned? Do you think we're outside of the nation's borders right now?"
Apparently Clark was really starting to lose it. Jughead had a lot of sympathy, and Clark had actually done great so far, despite being very obviously upset - but they needed to shut the panic down now.
"Oh my God, calm down." Archie had less patience and jumped in before Jughead could try to reassure his coworker. "First off: we were nowhere near a border, and we drove for, like, fifteen minutes at most. We'll probably be home in time for dinner. Right, Jughead? Brand will come for us."
Archie was trying to project confidence, and he was definitely irritated, but his voice was shaking - and based on his facial expression, he was painfully scared. "He's terrifying when someone gets between him and Jughead. Think Chuck Norris, but with, like, anger management issues. I bet his dad will come, too, and bring his shotgun. And Trigger, Jug's attack dog."
"Are you just making stuff up? Jones, is he making stuff up?" Clark looked confused, and maybe slightly less panicked, but also like he might be gearing up to be angry with Archie.
"We might be able to get out on our own," Jughead ignored the questions. "Give me fifteen minutes - maybe twenty - and I'll be free. Then I can untie you both and we'll figure this out. Some of these guys know what they're doing, but definitely not all of them. We can improvise all kinds of weapons with what we've got right in this room. And Clark, I think we can safely assume that we have not been renditioned."
"What, now you're suddenly MacGyver?"
"I know; Jug really commits to that smokescreen of incompetence, doesn't he?" Archie smiled wanly at his own teasing words, even though his voice was still shaky. "We should escape on our own. I like that plan. Even though we probably can't rappel this time - which was awesome - Jughead's right. This room is full of useful stuff."
When Archie looked around the room some more, though, his expression became increasingly fearful. "Um, hey, Jughead... good news and bad news. It looks like we've literally got everything that we need to make explosives. So maybe we shouldn't try anything after all. Or maybe... I guess that could be an improvised weapon?"
"What? No way," Jughead didn't stop working on his bonds, but he glared a warning over at Archie. "I barely passed my Chemistry final. Brand refuses to teach me anything. I cannot make explosives."
"Dude, not what I meant. You think I'd trust you near anything resembling cooking? You've barely mastered chicken," Archie shook his head mournfully and his smile was stronger this time. He seemed to be calming down as he focused on this new idea.
"Bu-ut, guess what I did this week - and most of last week. Do not tell my dad, or he'll fire all the demo guys." Archie thought about that for a moment. "Which might not be a bad thing, actually."
"How am I the one with the least expertise in this situation?"
"Yeah, where did you get this guy, Jug? Worst FBI agent ever." Archie shot Jughead an aggrieved look. "You couldn't get us kidnapped with someone useful? Like Brand?"
Jughead mirrored the aggrieved look back at Archie. "Hey, it is not my fault that your internship is apparently way cooler than mine. I can't believe you learned how to build a bomb. I learned how to make coffee."
"Well, mostly. The detonation stuff they obviously did without me, but I think that's the easy part." Archie nodded once, even though his nervous expression had returned in full force. "Piece of cake. Right?"
"Okay, I take it back. Now I'm hoping we've been renditioned." Clark was wide-eyed.
"I hope you don't talk to the bomb squad with that mouth," Archie retorted. "I'm gonna need a field promotion so that I outrank this guy, Jug."
"You got it." Jughead smirked. "I'll untie you first, Special Agent Andrews."
"Awesome."
They fell silent while Jughead worked.
"Jones?" Clark seemed to be thinking something over.
"Yeah?" Jughead was trying to work a knot free - and his fingers slipped once again.
"When has Archer seen Special Agent Davies being 'terrifying'?"
"Oh. Um." Jughead figured it really didn't matter a whole lot at this point, so he might as well spill the beans. "Special Agent Davies is my godfather. I'm sorry I didn't say anything; it's the whole nepotism thing, and it was already so awkward-,"
"Oh. My. Lands." Clark looked like he might be about to have a coronary. Or a stroke. "You know him personally? You've - this whole time?"
Well, he wasn't panicking. That was something.
And then the whole thing clicked for him.
"Wait... are you Jonas Davies?" Clark was gaping. "Is that why you're freaking MacGyver? And - oh God - is that why you keep calling Special Agent Davies 'Brand'?"
"Jughead," Archie's tone was scolding, but he was clearly fighting laughter, "did you lie to all of your friends at the FBI? And seriously, how did you go two minutes without Brand petting your hair? Don't tell me he does that to everyone at work."
The knot dissolved smoothly in his hands; one down. "Trying to focus here." Jughead shot them both a look. "My name isn't Jonas anymore. But yeah, Brand and I worked together in Toronto."
"And they live together now," Archie contributed oh-so-helpfully. Jughead knew he should just be grateful that neither were panicking, but this was not how he'd pictured explaining to Clark about Brand.
Clark's eyes were bugging out. "You live together?"
"No. He's staying in our guest bedroom. We don't live together most of the time. He owns a place in Canada."
Clark glared. "You made me look like an idiot. Repeatedly."
"If it helps, Brand keeps telling me to be more like you," Jughead offered. The next knot was going more easily. This was good. "He really likes you. That time you were going to break me out with a cheese knife was a top ten moment; he still talks about that."
"I thought we were wingmen."
"We are!" Jughead objected. "And now we're going to escape and I'll tell Brand how you came along to protect me, and he's going to want to, like, adopt you."
"Because he does that with his protégés. Which you know from firsthand experience." Clark shook his head slowly.
Archie snorted at that.
"That is not what I meant." Jughead felt the next knot give way. "And I'm almost free. In case you were wondering."
"So Brand is probably freaking out because his roommate-,"
"We don't share a room."
"His adopted godson, who did a world tour with him-,"
"One interview, Clark."
"The teenager he gave his last name to, personally trained and worked alongside for months while undercover, and - oh wow, this makes so much more sense now - just fought a violent gang over, is missing. Kidnapped. Is the National Guard coming after us, or will he go straight for the Marines? Navy SEALs?"
"Now he gets it." Archie smirked when Jughead glared at him. "That's what I'm trying to tell you, Clark. Jug can do pretty much anything and Brand just lines up safety nets for him. He jumps and Brand catches him. Every single time."
"Untrue." Jughead glowered. Another knot went. He would be able to slip out of the ropes in just another minute or two.
"Yeah, okay. Your dad went after you that one time in Michigan."
"Why did you get beaten up at school?" Clark was suspicious as he reexamined what Jughead had told him over the past weeks through the lens of this new information. "Was that… something else?"
Archie suddenly looked properly abashed. And scared again. Jughead understood that, too; it really was a lot more terrifying to recall that Brand was human and would not automatically get here in time to prevent them from getting hurt - or worse.
"See, Archie? Not every time. And I already told you, Clark. I don't know." Jughead felt one more knot loosen, and then he twisted his wrists free. "I'm out. Let me get my ankles; Archie's next. And then I'm gonna need some help. They took away my pain pills and my ribs are not happy."
Clark frowned.
Archie looked even more worried.
"Guys, we're getting out of here. I'm still Macgyver. I just need some aspirin." Jughead managed a reassuring smile and then slowly and painfully reached down toward his ankles to untie them. "A whole lot of aspirin."
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FP had caught just one glimpse of Joaquin DeSantos and moved to follow.
Jughead had been on his feet - talking to Brandon - when last he saw him. They'd even had filtration masks before virtually anyone else had them within the blast zone. Davies was on it.
Joaquin on the other hand had not just been missing; he'd been involved in the first attack meant for Jughead, the one FP had sprung with Trigger, and the odds that Joaquin had zero knowledge of, or connection to, the more successful attack on him at Riverdale High seemed low.
It was also bizarre that Joaquin was dressed like he worked with Andrews Construction. Something was very wrong with this picture.
And this was why FP was being paid the big bucks, after all, and why the FBI made taken steps to make sure he'd been assigned to work Southside High. Because he had the ability to spot these things and make these connections - and act on them.
Now he was ushering Joaquin into a basement establishment that he knew well, and hustling him quickly past the secondhand goods for sale on every surface. The complex of back rooms was where the money was made in this business. As DeSantos well knew.
They took one of the small conference rooms and FP locked them in together. Here anything could happen. Nobody would interfere, and nobody would see or hear anything.
"Well, fancy seeing you working for Andrews Construction." FP gestured expansively to the four chairs around a small table. "Have a seat. We should catch up, DeSantos. It's been a few months since we were together in Michigan, and - what - a week or more since you went missing?" FP waited for Joaquin to sit and then he joined him at the table.
"Come to that, your disappearing act wasn't all that long after you jumped me. Not that I hold that against you; I'm very grateful that it was me." FP knocked lightly on the table for emphasis and Joaquin looked increasingly uneasy. "Not that it bought Jughead much of a reprieve. Did you know that it was a pack of Serpents not much younger than you that went after him at school? He's lucky to be alive. You know what they say about young serpents who can't control their venom."
Joaquin's eyes were trained on the floor.
"So... let's start with why you've got one of Andrews' hard hats on and you're covered with dust from an explosion you shouldn't have been anywhere near."
Joaquin glared up at FP then. "I had business there. And I don't owe you an explanation."
"That's not how I see it."
"Too bad."
"It sure is." FP folded his arms. "Because my word is law in these parts. Maybe you've been too far underground to hear that."
"I heard," Joaquin spat the words. "But I also know a lot more than you give me credit for. Traitor."
FP didn't blink. "It's not turning traitor to take care of what's mine. Ask around, Joaquin; you'll find out quickly enough that I stepped back from the Southside - but I didn't step back from any individual. In fact, I seem to remember being consulted on a minor financial dispute between you and Mustang."
Joaquin blanched. He'd known that situation had potential - could have gotten out of hand - but it had simmered down on its own. Or so he'd thought.
"That's not a threat, Joaquin." FP's expression went from firm to concerned when Joaquin reacted so strongly to his words. "And it's true that I haven't been around so much. Things changed, and it was time that I bow out."
"So you're sitting with me right now because of Jughead?" Joaquin had recovered from his shock and his tone was deeply sarcastic. "That sounds about right. I mean, come on - Southside High is bombed to the pavement right in front of you, and your only question is who bruised your kid?"
"Oh, I've got more than one question. We can start with this one, though." FP leaned forward on his elbows. "Do you need help? Protection? Is someone leaning on you, DeSantos? I can get you out of the Southside. Today."
Joaquin had arranged his features into a sneer of disdain over FP's insistence on protecting Jughead to the exclusion - detriment - of everyone else. But FP's words stopped him cold.
"What?"
"Are you under pressure? Duress?" FP gestured to Joaquin's clothing. "Someone dressed you like this and put you in harm's way. Maybe whoever you had 'business' with doesn't much care about your health. And the way I see it, you either disappeared because you needed to, or else somebody forced you. Either way, I'm thinking you might need a safe place to wait things out and some eyes on the situation that you can trust. What's it gonna be?"
Joaquin seemed to need a few moments to process all of that.
And then he met FP's eyes and seemed to make a decision. He slumped in his chair.
"It's… I'm the real traitor." Joaquin braced both hands against his forehead and leaned forward on his elbows on the table. "I messed up. Bad. There is no safe place anymore."
"Now that's nonsense. There's always a safe place, DeSantos. We'll figure it out." FP had no idea what he was promising, but it seemed likely to be true enough. He made his tone reassuring. "Now, what do you mean, saying you're a traitor? Doing what you have to in order to survive doesn't-,"
"I'm playing three sides," Joaquin interrupted, closing his eyes as if in pain and blurting out the words. "And I've played traitor to them all. I just wanted to get paid by them all, but it's… too deep." Joaquin met FP's confused gaze with a tortured look of his own. "I betrayed everyone. There's nobody left."
FP considered this. He understood that the Serpents and the splinter faction were almost certainly two of the 'sides.' The third one eluded him, though. Unless… "Davies approached you?"
"Donn."
FP wondered if the world had stopped moving because this was so shocking - or because the implications were so overwhelmingly far-reaching in their potential.
He had a foothold. He would not put Joaquin at risk, and he'd do everything in his power to protect his former - literal - partner in crime, but FP saw endless possibilities spooling out in front of him with just that one word.
"There are still safe places. We'll get you to one." FP would start there. "Which of the three 'sides' sent you to Southside High to see it brought to its knees?"
"That's part of what's so tricky." Joaquin shrugged helplessly. "It was all three."
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Okay. I answered some questions. I miiiiight have raised more questions in the process... but we're moving forward! Your reviews have been so, so encouraging as life has been unbelievably crazy. Thank you muchly for any and all notes - and thank you for reading!
I hope you have a wonderful start to the week!
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