A/N: Thank you, frtaylor, so very much for that amazing review! Seriously - that was one of the best I've had! I appreciate your words so much. I really am hoping the ending holds up to your praise! =) And it will be bittersweet as well when this story is over.
I'm updating early because - why not? I hope more theories prove true as we come closer to the end! Enjoy!
Agent Christopher sat at one of the smaller tables in the main room, drinking the strongest coffee the women working in the kitchens could muster as she poured over the details of the 'hidden' investigation, the picture from the prison as well as the maroon book Lucy studied. She tried to find that connection between them somehow - some insignificant detail that would tie it all together.
She was on her third cup of coffee, already feeling the shakes from the overload of caffeine when she pinched the bridge to her nose to rest her strained eyes for a moment. Heaving a sigh, she leaned back into her chair.
"That's one of my favourites," a small voice said nearby. Her eyes fluttered open, darting over towards the direction of the voice. She saw a young boy rocking up onto his tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the opened book on the table.
Her eyes drifted to the book which laid open to the image of the Austen residence. "It seems to be quite popular around here," she admitted.
His smile widened. "Have you read it yet?" he asked, climbing onto the chair beside her.
She shook her head as she sat upright. "I have not," she told him, "but my friend Lucy has."
He nodded. "I like Lucy," he said, "she's smart and pretty…"
Denise couldn't help but smile at his innocence. She missed this age with her own children - how they attached themselves to strangers or people they just met. In fact, her own son used to flirt with the cashiers in grocery stores when he was a toddler. They'd tell her he'd be quite the charmer when he was older. She felt a pang in her heart as she reminisced over her family.
"You look heartbroken," the boy commented, blinking at her with concern.
She smiled sadly. "I miss my family."
He nodded. "Me too."
"Where is your family?"
"I…" he hesitated, giving her a glance that she had seen before in her own kids as well.
Denise leaned on her elbows to look at him at the level of his eyes. "What's your name?"
"Wren."
"Well, Wren," she said. "My name is Denise," they shared a brief smile, "Now that we know each other's names, we aren't strangers anymore."
He seemed to be processing her words before nodding. "That's quite right, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. He held her curious gaze before admitting, "I've been told my mum died a long time ago..."
Denise tilted her head at him. "I'm sorry to hear that."
He shrugged again. "It's all right," he whispered, eyes drifting down to the table, "I never knew her." Agent Christopher opened her mouth to ask another question when Wren's hands darted out to grab one of the pictures before them. "Hey!" he cried out excitedly. "It's Poppy!"
"Who?"
He turned the picture around to show her. "Here," he said. "Poppy is..." he paused as his brows drew together as he turned to look at the picture again, "Where is she here? I don't recognize this place…"
Denise asked, "You know that woman?" Wren nodded, still studying the picture. "Where is she now, Wren?"
His eyes lifted to meet hers. "Oh, um," he thought for a moment, "I'm not entirely sure. She's been quite busy lately and Ms. Genevieve has been watching me - "
"Is Poppy still here inside the bunker?" she asked the question, knowing no one had left - that she was aware of. She felt the small bubbles of panic rising should he say no. If he said no, she had no idea what to do about it.
Wren nodded with a slight shrug. "I believe so…" he cocked his head in thought. "You may want to check her room?"
"Which room is Poppy's?"
"Room 45," Wren told her as he set the picture back down onto the stack of papers on the table.
She smiled at him, standing to gather the documents, pictures, and the book. "Thank you, Wren," she said. "You've been very helpful." The beaming smile he returned told Denise he was proud to have been of use.
Denise dumped the arm-full of files into her own room before grabbing her sidearm. She exited to head down the hallway toward room 45. As she rounded the corner, Quinn was approaching her from the opposite end. His eyes locked onto hers, brows twitching with curiosity.
"What is it?" he asked, falling in step with her. "Ye found something?"
Denise didn't slow her pace as she navigated through the living quarters' hallways. "The woman at the prison," she explained. "She's here."
"Our mole?"
Denise nodded once. "If she's not, she's got a lot of explaining to do."
They stopped before the door numbered 45. Quinn tensed, preparing himself for a fight and it didn't go unnoticed by Agent Christopher who side-glanced at him before knocking on the door.
Sounds on the other side grew louder before the door opened. The moment the young woman's green eyes locked onto the two, they grew wide and she tried to slam the door closed.
Quinn proved to be faster, blocking the door with his foot and using his body weight to force the door opened again. The woman backed away from him with surprising speed and agility.
Quinn took a few steps inside, both hands held out defensively. "Listen," he said, voice sharp, "We just want to talk to ye."
"I don't believe you!" she shouted back, throwing the end table drawer open. Her hand wrapped around the grip of the handgun but Quinn reached her before she could aim it at anyone.
The woman didn't relent. The moment Quinn's hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist, barring her access to the sidearm in the drawer, she slammed the back of her head into his, knocking him away.
Spinning around on her heel, she slammed the palm of her hand against the underside of his chin before grabbing his shoulders to knee him in the chest. As Quinn stumbled back, falling against the nearby wall, Denise stepped inside the room, gun aimed at the woman.
"Poppy," Agent Christopher warned. "Stand down."
"Over my dead body!" the woman hissed.
Poppy took a step forward, prepared to take Agent Christopher down when Quinn kicked the woman's knees from behind, forcing her to the ground. Denise didn't hesitate as she dove toward the woman to grapple her, pressing her knee into the woman's spine to keep her pinned to the carpeted floor.
Quinn grabbed the top sheet from the bed, ripping a large strip away to bind the woman's feet and hands together. He lifted his dark eyes to meet Agent Christopher. "Nice work, Agent," he panted.
Denise exchanged glances with him, feeling the woman beneath her shift causing her to press her knee further into the woman's back. Quinn finished tying the woman's limbs together and Agent Christopher stood up.
Quinn said, "I'll get her in the holding room if ye want to get the others."
Agent Christopher's brows drew together in confusion. "We have a holding room?"
The corners of his lips curled slightly with amusement. "We even have an interrogation room and brig, in case ye hadn't found them yet."
Before she had a chance to retort, the sounds of bodies slamming against the hallway walls filtered down toward them. Quinn nodded as she glanced back at him. "Go," he reassured her. "I'll take care of this one."
Agent Christopher exited Poppy's room, glancing down the hall. There were a couple of people near the far end watching whatever was unfolding down the opposite side. She made her way over, hearing the sounds of the fight growing louder.
Rounding the corner, she saw Flynn slam Rowan against the wall, a death-grip on his black t-shirt. Rowan shoved his forearm into Flynn's windpipe, knocking him back into the wall adjacent but Flynn's hold over Rowan didn't release.
Agent Christopher rushed forward and grabbed Rowan's shoulder to pry him off of Flynn. "Stand down!" she ordered the two.
Flynn shoved Rowan across the hallway, causing the man's back to slam hard against the wall again, but it allowed Denise to position herself between the two, her hands outstretched to keep them at bay from one another. "Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?"
"Ask him!" Flynn spat, running a hand through his disheveled hair to brush it out of his face.
Rowan tugged his shirt down, straightening it in a huff, glaring at Flynn. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, checking for blood - there was none.
"Perhaps we should discuss this in private?" she suggested, eyes scanning the gathering crowd that murmured within the hallway.
Flynn scoffed. "Why?" his eyes bounced over to the growing crowd, "Take a good look at our mole! You can't trust him anymore!"
"Ye're one to talk!" Rowan spat back. "Leading yer people into dangerous traps! I think yer the mole!"
"Enough!" Agent Christopher shouted over the two. Her outburst made some of the lingering folk uncomfortable enough that they started to slink down the opposite direction to leave.
Before she had a chance to order them out of the hallway, Quinn appeared with a death grip on Poppy's upper arm while she inched her way forward with bound ankles. His dark eyes bounced between the three. "What's going on here?"
Agent Christopher couldn't help but notice the proud yet sly grin slowly creeping across Poppy's face as she figured out what took place moments prior. It didn't take Denise long to realize this woman was indeed the mole - and she no longer bothered to hide it.
As the team looked through the two-way mirror into the holding room where they secured Poppy, Rufus blinked at Quinn and Rowan. "What else do you have in your secret creepy bunker you haven't told us about?"
Quinn glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "I believe we have bigger problems right now."
"You've been holding out on us, man," Rufus retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.
Wyatt rolled his blue eyes. "Look, I agree with Rufus," he chimed in. Rufus smiled wide, happy to have someone in his corner but it quickly disappeared after Wyatt added, "But Quinn's right..." he turned his gaze over to Rufus, "we have other issues right now than to be demanding the full tour."
Flynn sulked in the back of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the brothers. He didn't even care that Poppy - the mole in their midst - sat on the other side of the wall.
Tenley eyed him for a moment, inching closer to him - to check on him - when he shot her a silent warning to stay away. She didn't need to be told twice as she withdrew to the opposite corner of the room near the door.
Lucy stared at the young woman through the two-way mirror, watching her carefully. The woman didn't seem bothered in the slightest as she leaned back against the metal chair, picking at her crimson-red painted fingernails casually.
"If she's the mole," Mason began, turning his gaze away from the woman to look at the others, "What exactly are we planning on doing with her?"
Quinn's hardened stare remained locked on the woman. "We get the information we need from her."
"And how are you going to manage that?" Wyatt questioned. Quinn raised his eyebrow at Wyatt, giving him a look like the answer was obvious. "What - you're going to beat it out of her?"
"Those are yer words," Quinn replied calmly, "not mine."
The rest of the team wheeled in shock to glance at Quinn. "You can't be serious!" Lucy gaped.
"This is madness!" Jiya remarked.
It wasn't long before the others spoke over one another as they voiced their concerns and disapproval over such an approach when Quinn held his hand up to quiet them. His eyes darted about them. "What do ye want to do? Let her go?" he questioned. "Where do ye think she'll go first? Straight back to Reynolds…" the room fell silent as he added, "Or we get answers and be ahead of the bastard for a change."
As the disapproving comments picked up again, Flynn shouted, "He's right!" Everyone stopped talking over one another, turning to face him in stunned confusion. He licked his lips before saying, "As much as I hate to agree with either one of them… he's right. We need answers and we can't just let her go," he sucked his teeth, "I say let him at her."
Agent Christopher felt everyone's eyes lock on her, seeking her guidance - to keep the peace. She weighed her options carefully. She didn't support beating a woman senseless to get answers but on the flipside, Rittenhouse or Bloodstone - whoever was behind this - hadn't kept innocents out of the crosshairs. She thought back to Luke McCann. He would still be alive if Rittenhouse or Bloodstone played by the rules. Her mind drifted over to what they did to Tenley and how they made her believe she was Amy for so long. She even thought back to Ann and Owen - the sleepers who threatened her family personally.
"Agent Christopher?"
The sound of her name brought Denise back to the present. Blinking to gaze back at the sea of faces staring at her, she inhaled deeply. "I think we should interrogate her but not torture - "
"We're wasting time!" Quinn growled, throwing his hands out in frustration.
"We do this by the book!" Agent Christopher shouted at him. "No one is to touch that woman! We ask our questions - "
"And what do we do when Reynolds continues his destructive reign through time while we're busy playing 'good cop, bad cop'?" Quinn retorted. "This is a waste of time!"
Wyatt nodded. "I hate to say it but...I kind of agree with him."
"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," Lucy mumbled.
Wyatt glanced over at her before returning to look at the rest of the team. "I don't want to beat her for information," he stated, "but there's merit to what Quinn's saying too…" he saw the disapproval wash over some of their expressions, "If we do this by the book, how much time are we handing over, practically gift-wrapped to Reynolds to do something even more dastardly while we play nice? Or maybe he will have time to plan the next trap to try and kill us - maybe even succeed this time?" he sighed, planting his hands on his hips, "I think we can try talking but...we shouldn't wait too long to try Quinn's way."
Quinn's clenched jaw eased as he scanned the looks of the others as the deafening silence overtook the room. "Are we in agreement then?"
Agent Christopher sighed, pinching the bridge to her nose as she hung her head in near defeat. She dropped her hand, lifting her gaze to hold Quinn's. "Fine…"
Quinn nodded once. "I'll have it sorted out in no time."
"Wyatt goes with you," Agent Christopher told him.
Quinn rolled his dark eyes. "Fine," he growled. "Let's get this over with, yeah?"
Wyatt blinked the confusion away, realizing why he was accompanying Quinn - to be the barrier from torture. He followed Quinn out of the room to enter the holding room next door, where Poppy remained unimpressed by the situation surrounding her.
Lucy stared at the woman, unable to tear her eyes away from her. There was something so familiar to her somehow and she struggled to piece it together. Lucy's eyes never left Poppy as Quinn and Wyatt entered the room.
Poppy's green eyes lifted and a sly smirk formed on her lips as she continued to pick at her polished nails. As soon as the door to the interrogation room slammed locked behind the two men, Poppy leaned forward to drum her fingertips on the shiny metal tabletop. She asked, "So, who's 'good cop' today?"