Chapter Eighteen! And it's 2020! Happy New Year, everyone. :-D
Thank you for the wonderful review, Living Lucid Dream! I think you are completely right that Kevin's first instinct is natural, but probably not entirely fair - Joaquin's been through quite a bit, and I think it's going to haunt folks for a little while. And yay for the prologue showing up - and Clark finally learning more about Jug and Brand! :) FP does remain awesome, I agree; I'm really loving highlighting more of his positive role with the Serpents in this story. :) I am very happy with your description of tangled but interesting, too! Let me know if it gets too confusing, but I'm finding that exposition is showing up here and there, even if nobody has all of the information yet. :)
Thank you for the lovely review as well, Guest! I love answering questions, and more miiiiight be answered in this chapter. :) Agent Williams is a tough one; I'm not sure where her arc is headed just yet, but I'll be interested to see. Poor Kevin! That's going to be complicated, too. Good observations about the lack of fear/teenager moments; I had some back and forth while I was writing that, because Jughead's on strong drugs and Archie's gotten a rosy perspective on prior events from his very slight distance. I think Clark is the only one having a very logical fear response. I'm with you - I've been worried about the 'left behind' Serpents even though FP made the right decision in focusing on Jug during the last few stories. He's hard to replace!
Enjoy!
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Sweet Pea figured it might be time to make his first phone call to the number he'd been given by Davies.
Because Alice was racing headlong into danger, and he couldn't think of anything that he could do to stop her. He could only mitigate the danger the best way he knew how. The only way he knew how.
The first step was getting to where he had cell service once more. After that, he'd probably need to send Davies a message, and name some names - those of the seven remaining guys who had taken their excuse to go wilding and jumped FP Jones' son and beaten him nearly to death - in order to get what he wanted.
And what he wanted would not be easily accomplished: Alice safe. Protected.
If she would not stay where it was already safe and protected, Sweet Pea would maybe have to make the whole world safer and more protected for her. It was a big job, and not one he'd ever considered before, but something about Alice made it seem not only possible - but mandatory.
Sweet Pea had to step up. And, having seen the pace with which Alice had set off into the Southside with Kevin Keller, he needed to step up fast.
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Brand was pacing in a tight circle, looking from his cellphone to the agent in front of him. Fred envied him the ability to - apparently - burn off some of his agitation by moving.
Fred felt like he might lose it if he moved any more than was necessary, let alone spoke.
"So Donn's okay?" Brand demanded more than asked.
"Relatively speaking. He's on his way to the hospital to be checked out, but that's mostly a precaution."
"And he claims to have no clue who just carjacked him and took two FBI interns and an underage construction worker hostage?"
"How many times have you been carjacked, Special Agent Davies?" The agent - Agent Novak - gave Brand a patronizing look. He'd been sent from the field office to brief Brand and Fred in person at Southside High.
"I've been the one doing the jacking more than once, and they knew who I was every single time." Brand leaned toward Agent Novak and there was an unmistakable threat in his posture. "Nobody wanted that van. Let's be real."
"In the Southside, even that van-"
"Is worthless. Not to mention identifiable. They were pulling an intern out of the van before they even went for Donn?" Brand shook his head and looked at his cell phone again. "No. No good. And even you should know that the FBI can't be losing people who have clearances; it's bad for business. We need more people on this."
"How many would you suggest?" Novak turned cuttingly sarcastic. "I'm standing here with you right now, so that's one, and Southside High is - how shall I say it? - a priority. So… how much longer am I going to need to stand here, Special Agent Davies?"
Brand's phone lit up with an incoming text. Maybe several. They'd finally regained cell service.
"Not much longer, Novak." Brand began to read the texts swiftly. "Okay; it looks like we've got options. We could work this with Donn, while he gets us more details from the hospital. We could work this with my contact, who's just given me a slew of names connected with an explicitly anti-FBI attempt on the life of one of the two missing interns. Or we could work this with my intelligence asset, who has a missing person in custody who is actively rolling on - oh, look, Special Agent Donn as well as two additional sets of perps." Brand held up his phone with a smirk. "What's your pleasure?"
"Everyone warned me that you'd pretend to spin straw into gold." Novak folded his arms.
"Hey, even I'm impressed this time." Brand shrugged. "Normally I'd waste time getting my full credit from you and whatever fools said that to you, but we've got a situation. Got a preference? No? Then let's work with my intelligence asset. He knows the territory better than anyone, and I'm thinking location's going to be more important than identities right now."
Fred nodded. He really didn't care about the who or why at the moment - the 'where' was most pressing.
"Oh, look, it's two against one - and it's the two who are covered with blast debris from Southside High. You are overruled and commandeered. Let's see what we've got, Novak." Brand was dialing. He hesitated, though, and held up his phone mid-dial. "Quick poll: do you think FP actually meant 'barley' or this is a typo?"
"Barely Used. It's a known front in the Southside." Novak shot him a look.
"Good. Not a bar, then."
"Not a bar."
Fred wasn't sure how Brandon managed to concern himself with so many things at once. It didn't seem to be slowing him down, so Fred didn't add yet another concern by criticizing him for sparing even a single thought for FP's sobriety right now, but Fred was more than ready to remind Brandon of their top priority the first moment he did seem distracted.
Brand finished dialing. "FP. What exactly have you stumbled into, old man?"
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"Fred Andrews is with Davies and Novak?"
"His son was involved in the carjacking. Apparently they have a lead they're chasing down, and nobody thought to give the order to keep Andrews here."
"It's really not his day, huh?" Agent Quinn sighed. She had taken a strong liking to Fred during the brief time they'd spent together, and she'd hoped that everyone would return from the parking area together, happily reunited with family and handler.
"You talking about Davies or Andrews?" Agent Williams responded darkly.
"Andrews. Obviously. Because this is definitely Davies' day." Agent Quinn gave Williams a level look. "He's cleaning up - we've got backup on their way from out of state to help us deal with the situation, and all they're asking for is more information from the guy who tackled the mayor and got her to safety, found Jonathan in the rubble and dug him out single-handedly, located a missing person with his asset, and got names for all seven of the unknown perps in that violent anti-FBI crime at Riverdale High. All within an hour of a bomb going off right next to him."
"So, what, you think he set all this up? He's some kind of glory hound?" Williams' grimace and tone seemed to indicate that she'd prefer that narrative to most anything else.
"I think that he's not going to see any of that as an accomplishment, let alone the coup that it is, if anything happens to the interns." Agent Quinn frowned. "I know I'll have trouble seeing this as anything other than a disaster if we don't recover them safe and sound."
The death toll so far from the blast was holding at zero, and everyone had begun hoping - quietly, so as not to jinx anything - that the number would not change. If there were no deaths, then they had just dodged far more than the proverbial bullet.
Even the man who had been chained inside to die would make a full recovery; he had not developed compartment syndrome since he'd been dug out so swiftly, and everyone hoped that he would regain consciousness soon and be able to give them more information about the bombing.
Another Special Agent Davies accomplishment.
"Well, it's too bad that this construction company's done for." Williams looked around at the people who were now organized and moving with purpose on the scene. "They'll never get another bid. Not in this lifetime."
"Really, Chloe? Have you heard a soul blame Fred Andrews?" Agent Quinn heard her voice harden. "Everyone knows this happened in spite of his oversight. I've never seen anyone so well-liked by an entire community. The fact that we could have had missing - maybe even dead - people in a collapsed building, and yet the mayor was inquiring about Andrews' health and his family instead of pointing fingers? That's astonishing. The community is rallying to stand by him already, and actively defending him against accusations that may never even materialize. Because apparently everyone believes in Fred Andrews."
"Weird town."
"It's sweet." Sarah's tone was chiding. "They know their neighbors. At least they know this neighbor pretty well."
"Well, someone must not like him. His son was taken?"
"That's what they think at the field office, at least so far." Agent Quinn's frown deepened. "Special Agent Donn's injured and in the hospital, but he's directing resources fairly aggressively at the carjacking and possible abduction. Like I said, Davies and Novak are supposedly following up with an intelligence asset about the situation."
"I'll give you three guesses who finds the interns first." Williams raised an eyebrow.
"And the first two don't count?" Agent Quinn gave her a tight smile. "Is Sheriff Keller around? It's been a little while; I want to touch base with him again."
"I saw him with McCoy when I was on my way here. I'll let him know you want to speak with him." Agent Williams gave a decisive nod. "And, just for the record... Andrews isn't the only one running a tight ship, Quinn."
"Thanks, Williams."
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Jughead was working to untie Clark. It was slow going; his ribs were hurting more, and it was seeming likely that the pain - not just from his ribs, though they were taking a decisive lead - was going to get a lot worse as the painkillers continued to leave his system.
He was definitely more alert as he came down from the painkillers, too, but Jughead was beginning to think that the tradeoff was not helpful after all. The pain was already so strong that the prospect of it continuing to worsen was starting to scare him.
Archie was investigating the storage room and the materials stacked along the walls.
"How thick do you think these walls are?" Archie asked, laying a hand on the cinder blocks in front of him. "They'll expect us to try the door, but we might have a better shot if we go out another way. It could buy us a minute or two, and that would be huge."
Jughead ignored Clark's sharp intake of breath over the idea of blasting through a wall and not just popping open a locked door. It sounded insane to him too, but Jughead knew that he would be moving the most slowly of the three. If Archie thought they needed the advantage and could get out safely in that direction, he wasn't going to fight him. "No idea. You're the one in construction, man. What's your best guess?"
"Well, we can shape the charge and just… overdo it a little. I think our worst case scenario is detonating something and not making it all the way out." Archie shot a nervous glance toward the door, but they had not heard any sounds since they'd been left. It had not been a particularly long time, either, so they probably had the luxury of thinking through whatever they decided to attempt.
"Shape it?" Jughead had an idea of what that meant, but not a clue how they could direct the force of the blast without access to more materials. Maybe a lot more materials.
"It's not actually that hard to do. I'll need some water, though, so nobody pees until I say so." Archie looked behind another tall stack of boxes. "Oh, whew. Never mind about the peeing; there's a utility sink back here. Anyone thirsty?"
They all were. Archie found an unopened box of Dixie cups along with the stacks of restroom supplies and filled several while keeping the flow barely above a drip. The pipes kicking in with any more noise would be a pretty obvious giveaway - or cause for a whole lot of alarm if anyone thought that there was a burst pipe or something.
"You doing okay, Jug? You look really pale." Archie turned to grab the chair he'd been tied into and slide it into position for Jughead. "At least sit down while you finish untying Clark."
"Thanks." Jughead sat gratefully. He was starting to feel nauseous from the pain as it steadily increased. "It didn't hurt this badly at school, right afterward."
"You were probably in shock. Or maybe the Southside High explosion banged you up." Archie's brow knit. "Just… stay sitting there. I'll get us out of this storage room, and then Clark and I can help you. Anyone know how to hotwire a car? Or is that just a Betty thing?"
"Jones, your friends-," Clark had barely spoken before Archie was cutting him off again with a sharp glance.
"Is that a no? And Betty's his girlfriend. Because, you know, Jug normally surrounds himself with actual useful people." Archie was getting more tense, probably in an attempt to fight back his fear, and he had lost even more patience when Clark had given him some input about the materials in the room that apparently had more to do with YouTube and Hollywood than reality. "And you are still tied up, so we can revisit the gag idea if you have any more bright-,"
"Leave Clark alone. He's doing his best to help, even though he's right that this is kind of an insane plan. We're going rogue together, so let's not kill each other before the bombers - or Brand, for that matter - have a chance to wring our necks for trying this," Jughead interrupted. He shook his head regretfully. "And I can try to hotwire a car, but yeah, that's a Betty thing."
"And you're-," Archie winced when he saw his friend suddenly become even paler.
Jughead quickly turned away from Clark; the nausea was hitting him even harder. He grabbed a five-gallon pail that was within reach, and was relieved when he threw up very little. The rough spasms hurt his ribs quite a bit, though.
"I'm okay. I've had worse just from eating my own cooking," Jughead tried for a halfhearted joke as he waved Archie off when he brought him a Dixie cup of water and a roll of toilet paper from the piles of supplies. "I'm probably going to keep going downhill, though. Just focus on figuring out the shaped charge. Let's get out of here."
"On it." Archie surveyed the materials he'd gathered. It was time to start assembling. "Now, this is going to be a primary explosive. That means all of that TV stuff applies; don't drop it or breathe too heavily on it or whatever."
"The other kinds wouldn't be better?" Clark asked. He made a deeply frustrated face when Archie glared at him instead of answering.
"We need to actually be able to set it off, Clark," Jughead answered. His breathing hitched as his ribs twinged, but the knot he was focused on was loosening and somehow that knowledge made the nausea hold off - at least for the moment.
"Exactly. And I haven't done that part before, so we're going to need to think that through." Archie eyed Jughead worriedly, and then returned his attention to Clark. "You need a job to keep you productive, Clark. That hostage training says so, right? Come up with all of the ways we could safely set off a sensitive shaped explosive, preferably without being so close that we lose body parts if this turns out to have more kick than I'm aiming for."
Jughead nodded his approval to Archie for giving Clark a task.
Clark suddenly looked almost as pale as Jughead, though. "Uh, you want me to do what?"
"Just make a plan, Clark. And a couple dozen backup plans." Archie sighed. "We're going to be in the room when this thing goes off. Let's make sure that we're still in one piece by the time we're free."
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"Donn got to you, huh?" Brand was not yet sure what to make of Joaquin's role in everything, but he was curious about what the kid had to say for himself. He, Fred, and Novak had gotten into an agency vehicle for relative quiet and privacy, and been put on speakerphone. Video kicked in a moment later, and Brand was impressed by what he saw.
FP had found a fantastic spot to hole up in for the time being, and made it a temporary base of operations while he and Joaquin communicated with Brand, who was also managing contact with the field office.
Because Agent Donn was issuing orders from the hospital while he awaited discharge, and those Brand actually did have to follow.
"Just getting my piece." Joaquin had gone straight back to the worst of his attitude as soon as Brand had called, and he was looking through the phone at Novak with rank hostility. "You gonna let these FBI guys roll in and do this to the Serpents, FP?"
Brand blinked. Apparently FP had not blown his cover in the process of cornering DeSantos, getting him to talk, and then filling in the FBI on his progress.
The man really did have a talent.
"He's going to let me talk if he wants to see his son alive again," Brand growled, hoping he wasn't overdoing it. This should jive with the legend, and he could follow FP's lead from there.
"We work together, Davies, or not at all." FP sounded calm and firm despite Brand being pretty sure that he was seeing panic in the older man's eyes. FP was dealing with the news of the carjacking amazingly well, but that might not last if they didn't have a firm lead very soon. "I'm not feeding you information and then sitting back. And get that other agent off the call."
"Done." Brand could work with that. He motioned Novak out of the vehicle. The agent must have noticed that FP's cover was miraculously intact, since he got out without protest.
"That's one of the guys." Joaquin began opening up as soon as the car door was closed once more. "He's on the take in the Southside."
"You mean to tell me that an FBI agent has gone undercover in the Southside during an active case involving the Serpents?" Brand wasn't sure that the accusation was off base, but he had a hard time picturing Novak doing much of anything that required initiative. He continued sarcastically: "That is truly shocking, DeSantos."
Joaquin looked unsure of himself then, which probably meant that was precisely what he'd seen - and it reassured Brand that he had no further evidence that something screwy was going on.
This was complicated, though; everything about undercover work lent itself to looking like something it was not, and the field office was obviously making plays in the Southside without fully apprising the resident agency that was supposedly taking the lead there.
Maybe Rose had sent Donn so that he'd have two independent teams working the case.
Brand had to take a quick breath when he finished that thought for himself: what Rose had actually done was arrange to have two independent teams racing to work the case. Competing.
Maybe Rose had decided that Brand was no longer his heir apparent. Maybe Donn had decided that being a sycophant to Brand was not getting him far enough fast enough, and he'd gone over his head.
Donn might be attempting to become the person over Brand's head with Rose, and not just his boss within the FBI.
There were a lot of implications if that was what was going on. Things would be a disaster very quickly if Rose was pitting FBI against FBI - in much the same way that the Serpents were falling apart now that they were split internally.
Donn might be actively sabotaging the investigation, and losing this race might leave Brand and the kid up a creek when it came to their arrangement with Rose.
Brand would come out fine, of course; he always did. Walking away from Rose's network after a transition of power to Donn would leave him with a powerful enemy, but he'd been there more than once before.
And Brand knew Donn a little too well for that to be an entirely one-sided threat.
Jones, on the other hand, was firmly at the epicenter of danger once again. And he was in no shape to find his way home without assistance. Hopefully Clark and Andrews were on their A games.
"What is it, Brandon?" FP asked when the silence had lengthened uncomfortably.
"DeSantos is right. Novak's out. It's just the people in this conversation from now on, and whoever else we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we can trust."
Fred looked from one to the other. "Including me?"
"Especially you." Brand nodded. "We're gonna need you to stay at Southside High while we move on things, Fred. Cell service is back up and running, and you've got the radios from Andrews Construction; stick close to Agent Sarah Quinn. Tell her you're working with me, and she should keep you apprised."
"That will never work." Fred gave Brand a skeptical look before he became unsure of himself. "Will it?"
"Doesn't matter - that's where we need you right now. If it works, great. If not, you get as much information as you possibly can and then get it to me." Brand thought for a moment. "I've got another Serpent who only talks to me - so he won't be feeding information to anyone else at the FBI -, and we can do the double duty of keeping the warrior queen and company out of trouble and making them useful by sending them to get the safer, more mundane intel."
Brand took a deep breath. "Now, who's behind what, Joaquin? Let's start with who carjacked Jones, Andrews, and Clark."
Joaquin hesitated. "So, uh, that might be my fault."
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me-,"
"Brandon, shut up." FP's tone brooked no argument. "Just tell us what you know, Joaquin. We need to find them as soon as possible."
"Well, it started when Donn gave me information - contacts for people who could handle the demolition, and all that - to get the Serpent faction started on blowing up Southside High."
Fred's gasp was almost comically dramatic. Brand and FP exchanged unsurprised looks.
"When FP left the Southside on Monday," Joaquin continued, "the faction was able to get the rest of the Serpents in on the Southside High plan - without them knowing that the idea was coming from the Serpent traitors. Mostly because I helped get everyone onboard." Joaquin looked shame-faced and terrified over this admission.
"It wasn't hard. Since FP kind of... stormed off, everyone was desperate to do something to prove their loyalty to him; they ignored all of the obvious red flags. My one caveat was that Jughead had to have an extra set of eyes on him at all times," Joaquin sneaked a look at FP as if his leader's attachment to Jughead was tantamount to a brain-wasting disease, "because we'd be permanently dead in the water with FP if he got hurt. Also…" Joaquin's expression softened slightly, "I'm not stupid; I was in Michigan, and I know Donn's got some sort of creepy interest in him."
"So Donn's the one who fed this idea into the Southside," Brand echoed thoughtfully.
Joaquin nodded.
"And it was you who told the carjackers to get the kid back from Donn?" Brand mused.
FP's jaw had dropped progressively further as he listened to all of this. "You think Jughead's being held somewhere to keep him safe? Out of harm's way?"
"That depends on who has him. Has them," Brand amended, making eye contact with Fred.
"I literally only told the Serpents that I saw Jughead leave with Donn, Archie, and that FBI agent. Other people might have overheard, but that's as much as I know."
"Clark's not an agent. He's just an intern."
"Whatever."
"Yeah, sure, 'whatever' - that may turn out to be a target on his head, but 'whatever.'" Brand frowned deeply. "And I cannot picture the Serpents pulling off the maneuver Donn reported - or what the police and witnesses described, if we're not trusting Donn's report. Any chance the demo guys Donn recommended to you were hired for a second job?"
"Anything's possible." Joaquin shrugged.
"We've got to move. We need to have officers round up the faction, but if they're the ones who ordered the carjacking... once they're out of contact with whoever's got those three, all bets are off. We can hope that they're model hostages and the carjackers have no trouble with them; that would buy us time to hunt them down, and Jones is definitely in rough enough shape for that to be possible…"
Brand's expression was grim. "But even if I were a betting man, I wouldn't put money on the kid keeping his head down. And if there's any possibility that Donn knows who the carjackers are-," Brand winced as he considered the possibility. "Nope. We've got to get there fast."
"Well, maybe we don't arrest the faction, then," FP interjected anxiously. "We'll - I don't know - track them or something. Monitor their communication. Whatever it is the FBI does."
"We don't hold all the cards in this investigation, FP. This may not end up being our decision. The best thing we can do right now is get moving. This is a race, and we're on the clock." Brand ran a hand through his hair. "Fred? Can you handle being our communications hub?"
Fred nodded, and then hesitated. "I don't have phone numbers for all the teenagers."
"FP does; I do." Brand frowned again as he thought that through. "They won't recognize your number, though, if you contact them. Can you impersonate FP over text message? You two can just swap phones. FP, you and Joaquin get ahold of a vehicle and then come pick me up on the east side of the school. Let's say Pickens Park to give us some space. We'll make the phone swap then."
"Um… sure." Fred agreed. "Should I get your number too, Joaquin?"
"No." Joaquin sounded horrified by the idea of Fred Andrews having his cell phone number.
"It's in my phone, Fred." FP shot Joaquin a quelling look. "Your plan been shut off, DeSantos?"
"No." This time Joaquin sounded resigned. "That number will still get me."
"This is not a plan." Brand was emphatic. "This is us getting into position to make a plan. If we lose contact at any point, do not move forward. Wait patiently and gather information about possible locations for where the three are being held. That is it until we reestablish contact. The only ones calling the shots are me and FP, and we'll be together. No communication breakdowns, no races, and absolutely no more splinter cells working at cross purposes. Is that understood?"
Everyone nodded.
"Then let's go. DeSantos, you're with us until further notice."
'Further notice' proved to be directly outside the storefront.
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Woo-hoo! More theories and insights. :-D I've officially become a sprawling writer (oops?), but I think a few more chapters will bring this all together. As always, I love your notes and I deeply appreciate your reading along!
I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
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