Chapter Twenty-one! And I think the next one will finish us off. So close! :-D
Living Lucid Dream, thanks so much for the lovely review! I really enjoyed your response to Tall Boy, and FP navigating his undercover role - and his freaking-out-dad role at the same time. :) Archie continues to come into his own (and is getting his own adventure!), and he's had great role models for managing conflict and working with others. Even if it doesn't always work quite as expected/hoped. :) And yes, I think the Helgasons are troubling, but not wholly unsympathetic. We'll see how things go for them! And actually, your comment that Jughead and Clark did not expect any of this when they became interns jogged my memory... because Jughead sort of did (not the horrifying parts) when he assumed he'd be "working with a bunch of Brands" early on. This really has become a 'be careful what you wish for' tale. :-D I continue to be really glad that you love Clark, too. He's SO much fun to write! And yep - end game is almost here for this story. One more chapter, I think!
Enjoy!
-Button
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Gunnar's dad was not thrilled. He'd lowered the gun, which would have been good news if he'd, like, unloaded it and put it away.
He had not.
Archie bounced anxiously on the balls of his feet as he waited for Mr. Helgason to decide his fate. The fact that they'd relocated to the half-finished basement was making this all a little scarier, too.
"I had to get him out of sight or everyone would have-," Gunnar was still trying to defend his actions. Archie was beginning to wonder why he even bothered.
"You should have left him outside. Let him bang on the door, whatever. We can't get the stench on us, Gunnar, or we'll never get it off."
"Look, I really, really appreciate-," Archie began, in Gunnar's defense.
"Shut up." The gun came up whenever Mr. Helgason addressed Archie. That was a scary side effect of trying to talk his way out of this.
"He just needs a ride to somewhere he can get picked up." Gunnar crossed his arms, repeating his argument yet again. Archie was reminded of the definition of insanity, but hey - Gunnar knew his father. Maybe he had special insight into how this strategy might eventually work. "I can take your car, he can keep his head down in the back seat, and I'll be back in ten minutes or less. Okay?"
"Not okay. We're waiting until it gets darker before we even consider anything like that, and let's not forget that we need to have a serious chat about exactly what he plans to say to anyone about the Serpents - or the FBI."
"Only good things." Archie raised his hands in the air when the gun came up again.
"Try nothing." Mr. Helgason glowered.
"I will say nothing." Archie nodded quickly. "I got lost. Really lost."
Mr. Helgason raised his eyebrows.
"I'll practice and make that more believable."
Mr. Helgason considered him. "So, you think you understand the position we're in?" He gestured between himself and his son.
"Yeah. I really think I do. Because I'm basically in the same one," Archie responded soberly.
"How on earth do you figure you are in the same position?" Mr. Helgason looked deeply skeptical, but also a little intrigued by that idea.
"Someone betrayed us, and we aren't sure who. The Serpents, the FBI, and maybe everyone around could be dangerous." Archie gestured at the gun to underscore his point. "There's no way to get help safely without calling my family, which you're not letting me do - and I totally understand and respect your reasons why-" the gun was raised again "-but basically anything that remotely makes sense could create even more danger. I literally had to find someone who hates Jughead and me to be sure we wouldn't be betrayed a second time. It's… counterintuitive."
Mr. Helgason gave a surprised laugh at Archie's analysis of the situation. "Yeah. I guess it is."
Archie leaned back wearily on the ratty sofa in the chilly basement and rubbed his eyes. "So you want to wait until it's darker, and then drop me off somewhere? My friends need help as soon as possible. And, just to warn you, it is entirely possible that your neighborhood will be crawling with search parties by then. I'm not trying to brag, but I'm really popular."
Mr. Helgason frowned thoughtfully. "You know, that is a good point."
Archie had not expected that gambit to work. He looked up eagerly. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Gunnar looked between them, clearly displeased that he'd been cut out of the conversation.
"Wait here. I'll be back. We might be able to smuggle you out of here." Mr. Helgason handed the gun to his son as he went back up the wooden basement stairs.
Gunnar sat on the steps with the gun.
Unfortunately he didn't look like he wanted to cross his father on this. Which, all things considered, seemed like an instinct that Archie couldn't fault him for.
"So... you play the drums?" Archie gestured up the staircase to indicate the drum set he'd noticed on his way to the shower.
"Can we not?" Gunnar gave him a look.
"Yeah. Sure." Archie shrugged and went back to sitting in silence. A minute or two passed. "Have you ever thought about finishing the rest of this basement?"
"You are insane."
"No, I work in construction," Archie attempted to explain. "It wouldn't take much to finish the rest, and that would probably really help with-,"
"Shut up." Gunnar aimed the gun aggressively and looked down the barrel at Archie.
"That is not how the pros hold a gun," Archie confided, giving him a knowing look. "Just for the record."
Gunnar stared at him, making a face as though he was not sure whether to be impressed by Archie's guts or disdainful of his foolishness.
Nevertheless, this time they both lapsed into silence.
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"Not everyone's addicted to GPS," Clark snapped at Jughead. "Read a map once in a while and you'll know where things are, too."
"I'm just saying, we don't know where we started and you haven't even been there before. We ran, like, five stoplights so that nobody would even think about carjacking us again, so I think we're safe. We should stop for directions at a store or something."
"We're not slowing down now. I'm telling you, I know where the field office is; we're almost there. Look, if it turns out that I'm wrong, we'll find a gas station and hope that it isn't crawling with people who want to hold you for ransom and shoot me in the head. I cannot believe everyone thinks I'm an FBI agent."
Jughead frowned nervously; Clark was right that the stakes were higher for him. It was a sobering thought. "Okay. You're right. We can keep driving. At least we still have half a tank of gas."
"Whoa." Clark steered the van around the next corner, ignoring horns blaring from almost every direction as they ran yet another red light. A huge structure was suddenly in view. "Huh. Maybe this isn't the right place."
"Yeah, that looks like… a mall. Or a huge company headquarters." Jughead stared up at the impressive building.
"Hey, no - this is it. See the signage? We made it, Jones!" Clark pulled the van right up to the front doors, ignoring the signs prohibiting parking there, and he pulled Jughead with him through the driver's side door.
Jughead took a deep breath as a wave of dizziness and relief threatened to make his knees buckle, and Clark quickly grabbed his shoulders and supported him as they hurried through the doors as if they were seeking asylum. Which they kind of were.
And, just like that, they were in the field office. It was huge, and somehow the fact that every surface seemed to be a different shade of dark wood that had been polished until it gleamed under the elaborate light fixtures was deeply reassuring. This was clearly a place that had its act together.
But before Jughead could get to a phone or ask anyone for help getting to Brand and his dad, two security agents stopped Clark - and Agent Donn seemed to appear out of nowhere and took Jughead's arm. Donn smiled broadly as he forcefully whisked Jughead past security, down a wide hallway, and toward a set of office doors.
"You're back. Excellent, excellent. Someone see to it that the resident agency is notified that we've recovered the interns. That means all FBI personnel are accounted for; nice work, everyone," Donn gave the order that would surely reach Brand right away.
Jughead felt his shoulders drop with relief.
"Uh, Special Agent Donn-,"
"Shhh, Jones," Donn gave him a warning look that was only half hidden by a smile. "You've been through a lot today. We'll get you a shower. Have you call your father. And your godfather. But first you and I are going to take a few minutes to debrief together."
Jughead's eyes widened and he shot a look over his shoulder at the array of pleased and proud faces watching their formerly missing intern being taken under the wing of their most senior agent. Clark looked confused, and he was gesturing toward Jughead while clearly trying to explain something to the two security personnel who were detaining him.
The office door closed behind them.
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"Gunnar lives here?" Alice looked around at the suburban street. The houses were small, but the lawns well-kept and the vibe was decidedly homey and domestic. It was almost like they were not in the Southside at all.
"This is the face of the resistance," Sweet Pea intoned mockingly. "Well-kept lawns for justice. Lower-middle-class nirvana."
"I cannot wait to see the place you're throwing stones from." Alice was gratified when Sweet Pea frowned in response to her stab in the dark. Either his place was similar, or it was embarrassing in some way - and Alice would bet on the latter. Sweet Pea didn't seem like the kind of guy who vacuumed once a week.
"So, are we just walking around hoping we see them lying in a ditch or something?" Sweet Pea asked gruffly.
"We're also hoping they see us, since they're probably looking for a friendly face. And a phone." Alice gave Sweet Pea a look. "Text Betty again, and find out what's going on with Davies. Let her know we haven't seen anything yet."
"I am not going to live-tweet this whole thing," Sweet Pea protested.
"Wow. Could you be any more difficult?" Alice gave him a deeply frustrated look.
"You know what? Never mind. I'll make sure everyone's totally updated." Sweet Pea's expression looked dangerous for a moment. Then he lifted his phone and lit up in an overly friendly smile. His tone dripped with sarcasm. "Hello! Thanks for tuning in. We're just taking a walk in the neighborhood after dark, hoping to find someone lying in a ditch. Say hello, Alice!"
Alice didn't flip off the camera, since she wasn't sure she wanted footage of that in existence, let alone in Sweet Pea's possession, but she seriously considered it for a moment.
"We want to welcome you to yet another episode of 'Getting Nowhere With Alice.' Let me talk you through the absolutely nothing that has happened so far. We're coming up to the end of a block, and oh look, absolutely nothing again! This is wildly exciting. I'm so glad we could share it with-,"
"That's enough. Stop." Alice grabbed Sweet Pea's phone and clicked off the video app. She was horrified to realize that she was smiling. "That's not funny, and it's not helping us get information or find anyone."
"I'll do some cute editing later, Alice. Obviously."
Alice swatted Sweet Pea's arm. He grinned down at her.
It was only when their lips met that Alice realized that she was leaning in just as much as - maybe even more than - Sweet Pea was.
And then a car turned onto the street and stopped in front of the house that they had been heading toward. Agent Davies and FP Jones got out.
"Quick, get down," Alice pulled Sweet Pea down so they were obscured behind a parked car. "We must have been on the right track. They can probably take it from here, but let's wait and see what happens."
"I think we were on the right track, yes." Sweet Pea's mind was clearly somewhere else; he was still grinning at Alice.
"Shut up." Alice gave him a look. But it wasn't the worst feeling in the world when she peered through the vehicle's windows to watch Davies and FP, and Sweet Pea rested a hand protectively on her left shoulder.
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There was a loud, insistent knock on the front door.
Archie and Gunnar locked eyes.
And suddenly they were fighting over the gun, even though Archie truly hadn't had a thought in his head of going for it.
Archie recalled a vicious elbowing move that Brand had told him never to use if he wasn't trying to do serious damage, and he attempted it on Gunnar as hard as he could. They both fell onto the basement stairs, and Archie managed to wrest the gun away from him in the process.
Archie rolled and ended up lying at the bottom of the stairs, but he had the gun aimed steadily at Gunnar. "Go answer the door. Tell them I'm here."
"Look, my dad-," Gunnar made no move to ascend the stairs.
"Now!" Archie yelled. The knocking suddenly went nuts; whoever was at the front door must have heard him.
"Seriously, I think it's a bad idea-," Gunnar was still protesting.
"Can you maybe just answer the door before I'm forced to - I don't know - shoot you?" Archie felt himself starting to lose it. This was not going to end well if Gunnar didn't get an instinct of self-preservation really quickly.
The door at the top of the basement stairs burst open.
Suddenly there were two more guns in the mix. Archie backed away with his hands up before he fully processed that these were friendly new arrivals on the scene. Brand and FP were swiftly descending the stairs.
"I am totally and completely fine." Archie figured he'd get that out of the way while everyone was tensely looking one another over. FP had grabbed his shoulder and was standing between Archie and Gunnar as he visibly tried to piece together what was happening. It did not appear that Archie's dad had come along for the rescue. "And, uh, this is my friend Gunnar. He took me in and helped me, even though I, like, blackmailed him and then held him and his dad at gunpoint. Oh, and their phones are broken."
Gunnar looked at Archie as if he thought he had lost his mind.
So did Mr. Helgason, who was about halfway down the stairs and frozen in place at the sight of so many guns in all of the wrong people's hands.
"I'm not real sorry about it, because we need to find Jug; he is messed up without his pills." Archie made a face. "I did what I had to do. But the Helgasons don't deserve to get dragged into... everything."
"We'll sort this out later," Brand growled suspiciously. Apparently he was not taken in by Archie's innocent expression. "Everyone sit down right where you are and keep your hands where I can see them. FP, can you disarm Andrews before someone gets shot? I'm calling for backup. Andrews, where are Jones and Clark?"
"They escaped with me from a building a few blocks that way-," Archie pointed as he willingly relinquished the gun to FP, "-but we split up so I could get to help more quickly. Which did not work out the way we hoped."
"We haven't seen or heard from them." FP frowned, handing Archie's gun off to Brand before steering Archie toward the couch and motioning for him to sit down. "The bombers might be trying to use Jughead and Clark as insurance to get themselves out of town."
Sweet Pea and Alice suddenly appeared on the stairs behind Mr. Helgason.
"I can help," Sweet Pea offered. "Hey, FP."
FP gave Sweet Pea a curt wave, even though he seemed irritated to see him and Alice.
"You are not backup. Go upstairs." Brand glowered. He began dialing on his phone.
"You know Sweet Pea?" Archie asked FP before focusing on his friend from school. He waved at Sweet Pea and then at Alice as they turned to go back up the stairs. "Nice jacket, Alice."
"Hey, hey, easy there; why don't you sit down, Red." FP pointed toward the couch a second time. He holstered his own gun - because for some reason he had both a gun and a shoulder holster just like Brand's, which was distracting. "You might be in shock."
"No, I'm fine-," Archie felt a little dizzy, actually. His heart was still racing, too, even though it was obvious that everything was all right now. He was safe; Brand and FP had found him and now they would find Jughead and Clark and they could all go home. Archie tried to take a step forward and was surprised when he stumbled over his own feet.
"Come on." FP steered him more insistently toward the couch. "Call for an ambulance, Brandon. I think Archie's going to go down if we're not careful."
Brand finished his conversation on the phone. "Already on its way, FP. How in the world did you manage to get a shower, Andrews?"
Brand and FP were as filthy and dirt-streaked as they had been directly after the explosion - maybe more -, while Archie looked like he'd just showered after getting off a basketball court. The shorts and sports jersey he was inexplicably wearing probably contributed to that impression.
"Oh, uh, they're good hosts," Archie gestured to the Helgasons again as he sat down. "These are Gunnar's clothes, I think. They have great water pressure, too. If we're going to be here for a while, you should check it out."
"Yeah, you're in shock all right." FP pushed Archie's shoulders back so that he was leaning into the sofa cushions. "Just relax; we don't need you passing out. Your father's over at the office buildings, so we'll send him straight to the hospital to meet you."
Brand was still watching everyone closely, probably in case they had hidden weapons, and now that he'd set down his phone he held a gun in each hand.
"Brand's dual wielding," Archie observed. "Very cool."
"Just sit still." FP shot Brand another worried look as he spoke to Archie. "Take deep breaths."
"Whoa. My phone's going nuts." Brand set one gun down and pulled out his phone again. He sucked in a breath as he read the messages on his phone. "FP, they've got him. They found Jones. He's all right. Clark's with him and refusing to leave his side."
"Where are they?" FP was up and off the couch in a moment and pulling out his own cell phone, which he'd retrieved from Fred and Agent Quinn. What he saw on the screen from an unknown number made his heart skip a beat - and then begin racing. "Who took a photo of him tied to Clark with some kind of... choke chain?"
"A what? I wasn't sent any pictures. I'll get the report and we'll find out, FP. Maybe it was a joke? Apparently they're at the field office. They're keeping Jones there until we get backup here. Then we can go pick him up." Brand's expression was tentative as he continued. "I'll drive you if you're willing to wait; I could really use another person here."
"Can I at least talk to him?" FP ran a hand through his hair; he began pacing in a tight circle as he weighed the situation. "Get him on the phone?"
"Let me see what I can do." Brand began texting with one hand.
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"Jughead?"
"Dad?" Jughead was finally on the phone. His dad had picked up. He had to fight tears at the sound of his father's voice; nothing had seemed like it was heading in this direction - toward safety, and toward getting back to his dad in one piece -, but here he was.
It was all going to be okay now.
"Jug, are you all right? We were told that you're at the field office, but I also received a very disturbing photo of you and Clark. Are you safe? Is Clark with you, right this second? I want you to stay with him and keep your distance from Donn. We'll come and pick you up. We need someone to take over for us where we are right now, and then we'll be on our way."
"I'm fine, Dad. Clark's fine. The bombers were holding us, and then the Serpents tried to kidnap us away from them to get ransom money from you - I think they must have taken the photo you got -, but we fought them. We got away."
"The Serpents did what?" FP's jaw dropped. Either Jughead had woefully misinterpreted the situation, or every last Serpent was going to be rotting in a jail cell within the hour.
"That's the kind of people you ran with, Dad." Jughead's tone was filled with bitterness before he continued his rushed explanation. "But we're fine now. We're even getting showers soon; this place is nice. They told me you found Archie and that he's all right. And Dad, Agent Donn's leaving."
"You mean he's… going home for the night?" FP did not dare hope that Jughead meant more than that.
"He's leaving the area. Permanently."
"Finally. That's great news, Jug. Hey, people are showing up here now; I'll be on my way in ten minutes or less, okay? Shower quickly and then you stick close to someone you know - Clark is fine. Just... stay away from Donn. I'm going to put Brandon on the phone for a minute. I'll see you real soon. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad." Jughead choked up again.
"Kid?" Brand's voice came on the line. "Is anything wrong? Just say yes or no; I know you're probably not alone."
"No. I'm fine. Everything's okay." Jughead bit his lip. He fingered the small cellphone in his pocket. "Donn's leaving."
There was a silence.
"Brand? Are you still there?"
"Yeah, kid. Sit tight. We'll talk more when you're home. You did good. Nice work." Brand sounded worried and relieved at the same time.
Jughead wondered if Brand suspected the deal that was getting Donn out of the area, away from him and away from his dad. The deal that would allow Brand more autonomy and more options.
The deal that involved a burner phone that Jughead would check regularly, with orders that he obeyed promptly.
Or perhaps no messages at all, ever. That was a possibility, according to Donn.
Not that Jughead was going to hold his breath on that.
"Brand, will you come to the field office to pick me up? With Dad?" Jughead heard a quaver in his voice and hoped that Brand missed it.
"What are you talking about, Jones? I always come for you, whether you like it or not. That's our deal." Brand snorted. "Your dad is the only one under the mistaken impression that he should respect your preferences, even though you're seventeen and don't know what you're talking about most of the time. You should know by now that I just do what needs to be done."
FP rolled his eyes, clearly irritated that Brand was engaging in conversation at a time like this.
Jughead laughed shakily. "Yeah. I guess so. Thanks."
"Don't thank me. This is one of my worst qualities." Brand's smirk was obvious in his tone.
"Well, have you ever thought that maybe that's the reason why dating isn't going well for you?" Jughead smirked in response as he relaxed into bantering with his godfather.
"Uh, Jones," Brand sounded even more amused, "I'm not dating seventeen year olds. The women I see know what they want."
FP started motioning impatiently for him to get off of the phone.
"Well, when will I graduate to you treating me like that?" Jughead's words were teasing, but he was also curious about Brand's answer.
"You're working on it, kid." Brand's voice lost most of its teasing tone, and instead he sounded affectionate and pleased. "You just asked me to come get you, right? That's the start of an improved track record of decision-making." Brand was silent for a moment. "So don't screw it up, eh?"
"I'll do my best."
"I have to hang up now, before your father kills me. We'll drive fast."
"Sounds good. Bye, Brand." Jughead smiled as he hung up.
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"MacGyver?" Clark called over from the other end of the gym showers at the field office. This building was amazing in comparison to their RA. "What did Donn mean about my being read into too much stuff by Davies? Is this about the chicken pox?"
Jughead wasn't sure, but he had a very bad feeling about it. Donn had ushered him into his office and closed the door, but just as he'd gone to lock it behind them, the door had burst open.
And hit him in the eye.
And Clark had not seemed penitent in the slightest.
Two security guards were right behind him, but they seemed more confused than upset by the situation ("Did you want to talk to both interns, Special Agent Donn?" one was asking) and they did not stop Clark when he entered the office and made a point of placing himself physically between Jughead and Donn.
He was still following Brand's order to stay together.
Agent Donn had been furious when Clark refused to budge, and Jughead had experienced a few moments of blind panic over the situation.
Then reality had hit him: they were in the field office. There was nothing Donn could do. There were witnesses in the room with them, and everyone knew that they were there. Jughead was safe; Clark was safe.
And then Donn had waved off the security guards, locked the door anyway, and said something cryptic about Brand reading Clark into too much.
And his father.
Jughead's blood had run cold. His dad was profoundly irritated that Brand refused to tell him anything. Donn had bad information.
Dangerously bad information.
"No. My dad doesn't know anything. Clark doesn't know anything. Really. They're trying to help, but nobody told them anything. I swear," Jughead had pled with Donn to believe him.
Clark had tried to assure Donn of the same thing, no doubt thinking this was a matter of classified information and that Jughead was being accused of sharing intelligence that he was not supposed to.
But the damage had already been done.
Jughead had suddenly realized what Brand had unintentionally set into motion: he'd used Clark to protect Jughead, and in so doing he'd put Clark directly in Agent Donn's sights. Maybe Rose's sights as well.
It didn't matter what Clark did or did not know. He was in danger now.
And so was Jughead's dad.
When Clark had reluctantly agreed to Donn's grudging compromise that he maintain visual contact but let Donn chat with Jughead privately behind glass doors (which set everyone on edge, since Clark paced like a neurotic zoo animal), a whole lot had been made clear very quickly.
Donn was not responsible for the carjacking. Brand's instinct of keeping Jughead from ever being alone with Donn had been right on the money, and had frustrated the SAC into opportunistically trying to grab Jughead from Southside High - but not in order to hurt him. Donn had been sent not only to aid in the FBI investigation involving the Southside, but also to make an end run around Brand.
In order to set up direct contact between Rose and Jughead.
Which was a bone-chillingly terrifying prospect.
"MacGyver?" Clark repeated. "Seriously, he looked upset. Do I need to worry about my clearance?"
"No, Clark." Jughead turned his shower slightly hotter, hoping that would help him get rid of the sensation of his skin crawling as he reflected on all of this. "I don't think you need to worry about your clearance. But, um, where do you live?"
"Okay. Whew. That's good to hear. This whole thing has gotten so weird. I've got a studio apartment a few miles east of the RA; it's about halfway between my school and the agency's offices. Why?"
An apartment building would be difficult to secure. Donn probably already knew where he lived, and Clark could easily disappear the way Trigger had.
Or the way Agent Russell had.
"Just curious." Jughead would need to ask Brand about this. And probably his dad, too, though that would be trickier.
It really wasn't a viable long-term solution to bring everyone he cared about into their home, and under their protection - such as it was -, but just this once Jughead hoped that they could consider taking Clark into protective custody.
Just to be on the safe side.
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Woo-hoo! Most of the pressing things are resolved... but not quite everything is wrapped up... I'll be pulling the pieces together for the final chapter of ST and enjoying any and all reviews. Thanks for reading! I hope you have a lovely weekend!
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