Title : ...and a Happy New Year
Author: Jo Taylor
Part 3 of 7
Pairing: Marcus/Ivanova sort of
Rating: General
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JMS, the idea belongs to me!!
Authors notes: Well, this was supposed to be a light-hearted follow up to Merry Xmas; it didn't end up that way g
Feedback most welcome
…and a Happy New Year pt 3
Franklin kept a watchful eye on his wayward charge, forcing Marcus to consume rather more than he wanted, and steering him toward more nourishing fare than he would normally eat. Marcus took it all in good part, mostly, until Stephen tried to make him drink a second glass of milk substitute - at that he cavilled, eyes suddenly stormy.
As they walked toward Susan's quarters Franklin tried once again to be included in the party. "Look, you two should not go alone. What if the child needs medical attention, and what about you? I know how badly you are hurt, and I know it's only sheer willpower that is keeping you upright. You need my help."
Marcus, who had been trying to keep a step ahead of the doctor suddenly whirled to face him, exasperation barely concealed in his stance. "I can't take half the command staff Down Below with me, you are all too well known. Not to the down and outs, but the criminal element most certainly know who you are. And besides, you want to keep this mission quiet, am I right? I am compromising the mission as is it, taking Ivanova with me. If we get into trouble, well, you know where we went. I'll check in with you in a couple of hours, but don't panic if you don't hear, things can change at a moments notice." Seeing Franklin was not convinced he added, "Susan is more than a match for any trouble we find, don't you agree?" His accompanying grin reflected on his friend's face as he nodded his agreement.
The door to Commander Ivanova's rooms flew open almost before they touched the panel, she stood back to let them in, and Marcus surveyed her with professional care. Her muted clothing was nondescript, not too new yet not too old either, her hair hung loose around her face and she had removed the small amount of makeup that she normally wore. It made her look younger, he decided. Only the tough set of her mouth and the knowledge behind her eyes gave the lie to her outward fragile exterior. She would do.
With many exhortations to take care they took a brisk walk to the transport. For all his bravado, Marcus knew that the painkiller currently circulating his system would not last forever; in fact it was highly unlikely to go much beyond another hour or two. Pain was something he had lived with before, but it slowed his reactions and dulled his senses in a way that could prove very dangerous on this mission.
Although Marcus had felt a familiarity with the child's location, much of Down Below had assumed a uniformity in its ragged appearance. Accordingly they started at the far end of the station, and for the next hour the two hunters made their way slowly from section to section, relying on Marcus' instincts and familiarity with the denizens. There were certain sectors that they could easily pass by; those peppered with the worst kind of bars and brothels. That was not the impression he had gained from his dreams. As they walked they discussed all that he had envisioned.
"If she is the child of a telepathic couple could this be why she managed to reach me, even if it was when my natural barriers were completely down?"
His assumption of her knowledge gave Susan pause to wonder at just how extensive his information might be. She shrugged noncommittally, "I wouldn't know, it seems highly unlikely or else the telepaths who were here at the time would have picked up on her." A passing thought that maybe they were on a wild goose chase crossed her mind, but as she watched Marcus' intent face, she knew that he would not be here unless positive of his memories.
The section they were about to traverse had a bad reputation and they walked with purposeful strides down each short corridor, wending their way between stacks of abandoned packaging. Suddenly Marcus froze in his stride, Susan, stepping past him, was unceremoniously grabbed around the waist and dragged back into the meagre cover two precarious stacks provided. Marcus clamped a hand over her opening mouth and breathed, "Company," into her ear. And although he removed his hand from her mouth, his other arm remained firmly clamped around her, pulling her closer to him and further into the shadows.
They waited in expectant silence, slowing their breath until they merged into the darkness. Seconds later the rapid sound of footsteps could be heard, not trying to conceal their approach. Low voices mingled in soft consultation and then the men were level with the hiding place where Marcus and Ivanova had secreted themselves. Their presence went unnoticed; deep in conversation, the two humans passed quickly and soon the sound of their footfalls could not be heard.
"What the hell is Shaker doing back on Babylon 5?" Marcus mused softly, eyes turned toward the retreating ruffians. His concentration was suddenly broken as Ivanova grabbed his hand and pulled it away from her waist, where it still held her firmly. His eyes were amused as they met her stormy gaze. "Sorry, a bit wrapped up there."
"So, who are they, why did we have to skulk in the shadows like a couple of second rate spies," she paused to take a breath, "and next time you grab me like that, Cole, be prepared for some major rearrangements to you features!"
His eyes twinkled at her irrepressibly before he sobered. "Shaker is bad news, very bad news. I thought Garibaldi had him banned from the station over six months ago. I think..." And here his words trailed off as his mind obviously engaged in uncomfortable thoughts.
"Who is he? The name doesn't ring a bell; why did Security ban him and, more to the point, why wasn't I told?" Her displeasure was only to be expected. As second in command of the station it had become her mission to be aware of everything that went on. Omniscience created a healthy respect within the lower ranks, and her inside knowledge had created quite a legend about her.
"I first came across this piece of filth about two years back, before I was officially assigned to Babylon 5. At that time he was working as a 'legitimate' trader, or at least that was his cover. He traded all right, in anything anyone wanted moved. Shaker and his team didn't care what the cargo was, drugs, stolen goods, refugees fleeing their homes - all at a price you understand."
Susan nodded, she knew the type, had threatened to space one or two individuals early on in her career. Now she was happy to let Garibaldi throw them off the station. "We should let Michael know he's back. As soon as we get back to civilisation I'll report in."
Marcus gave her a hard look as they walked toward the next section. "Not everyone down here deserves your contempt, Susan. A lot of the poor sods down here came because they thought this place was the answer to all their problems. Then they arrive with not enough money to live on, no way to get a job and not a snowball's chance of ever affording the fare home again. They eke out an existence best they can." He shut his lips against further words as they entered an area that had been adapted to savage living quarters. Threadbare blankets hung over old boxes, providing a modicum of privacy; children played in quiet groups, their clothes barely covering thin arms and legs.
Marcus indicated for Susan to wait for him, and he entered the shantytown. She watched as he moved from one group to the next, smiling at everyone, eliciting a smile in return from some that obviously recognised the Ranger from previous visits. Now and again his hand dipped into a bag tucked securely into his belt and he would pass over a small packet which would be eagerly received. The children followed him as he moved from home to home, and every now and then, as a small hand would slip into his, he would stop to talk to the infant, caress a cheek or dispense a tit bit from his bag. It was a side of the Ranger she had never seen, one that she was sure he kept hidden from the rest of the station. He had been trained to kill, and she had seen him in action - he was impressive, but there was this deep well of kindness within him. She felt the stirring of some long hidden emotion and quickly turned her thoughts to less complicated matters.
Susan, never comfortable with children, had become the focus of unwanted attention the minute they realised that she was with Marcus. He, seeing her obvious discomfort, returned to her side, routing the children with kind words and a promise to return when he could.
"There has been a lot going on that I was not aware of. I have been too involved with other things." Marcus voice was tinged with a barely concealed bitterness Susan had thought foreign to his nature.
"Well don't keep it to yourself, spill it."
"It seems the Siskin child was neither the first, nor the last child to go missing. For the last year and a half, children have been going missing at the rate of maybe one to two a month. When the first one, a little boy of three, disappeared the parents reported him missing to Security. Two months later the case was still unsolved, the station was in the middle of yet another crisis and the case was sidelined. By that time another child, this time a girl of five had vanished. Her family and friends instituted their own search of the station as by that time no-one thought any help would be provided for them. Their status being what it was."
"But Garibaldi would not have let it slide, no matter what else was going on. You know him, Marcus, he hates to be bested over anything."
"I know that, and you know it, but to the people who exist down here he represents everything they can't have, and someone who tries to take away what little they do have. I understand them perfectly."
"Then we need to check the files as soon as possible, see what he came up with..."
"Oh, I can answer that, nothing! Not one child has been recovered, dead or alive. But I think I now know what Shaker might be doing on the station - don't you?"
"Kidnapping children? Marcus, that is far fetched even for you!"
"You think so? But there a lot of desperate people out there, those who can't have children of their own and are not suitable candidates for adoptive parents. You must know how strict the rules became after that fiasco five years ago."
She nodded, "Yes, how many was it, ten, twelve?"
"Fifteen," he replied soberly. "Fifteen children who, instead of having the home of their dreams, ended up in the hands of a paedophile ring."
"You think these kids...?"
"I pray to Valen that they are not."
...