~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Part 5 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bobby stared over his steaming cup of coffee at the blonde leaving the cheap motel. Somehow he had
missed seeing Fawkes, but he'd caught her leaving his apartment the evening before and followed
her. She had ended up here at the Drive Inn Motel, where she had apparently spent the night. It was
driving him crazy; he almost, but not quite, knew who she was.
As he watched, she walked to an obvious rental car and climbed in. Since he had not seen Fawkes at
all, he decided to follow her. Somehow he knew she was important, and for all he knew she could
lead him right to Fawkes and save him another night of sleeping in the van.
Bobby was nowhere near as surprised as he should have been when she parked just down the street
from the Harding building and made her way inside, as if she had been there hundreds of times
before. He parked in his usual spot and followed along. He walked down the hallways quickly, going
straight to the Official's office. Without knocking, he flung open the door to find the woman
glaring at the Official.
"Hobbes, get out!" the Official barked at him.
"No can do, sir. I followed her from Fawkes' place and I'm betting she can tell me where he is."
Bobby walked over to the woman and finally got a good look at her. That's when he finally
recognized her. "Casey O'Clare." Fawkes' ex, in much the same way Viv was his own.
"Damn it, Hobbes, stay out of it this time." The Official sounded more than a little irritated.
Casey turned to look at Bobby. "You're Hobbes?"
He nodded. "Where is he?"
She shook her head. "As I was just explaining to your boss," she said, turning to look at the
Official, "I won't help you. Ruin my career, I don't care. You obviously don't."
"Miss O'Clare..." Eberts began, but she cut him off.
"Angela, remember? Angela Brewster. You took my life away almost as efficiently as you stole
Darien's." Her voice was so cold that the Official was surprised.
"We were protecting you," Eberts commented.
"Bullshit. You were simply cutting Darien off from any outside contact. Making sure he only had you
and your people to turn to. It took him all of five minutes to figure out that you'd sent me to
bring him back." She paused to take a deep breath and get back into control. She wanted to scream
at these people. What they had done was nothing but slow, long-term torture as far as she was
concerned. "I won't be a party to it. If you want him back, you will have to hunt him down. And
you'll have to go through me to get to him."
"That is exactly what we will do." The Official kept his voice emotionless. He turned his head
slightly. "Eberts."
"Sir."
"Call Orion. I want Fawkes back by this time tomorrow." The Official glared at Casey.
Bobby protested. "Sir, don't do that. Give me a chance to find him. To talk to him." When the
Official showed no response whatsoever, Hobbes set his hands on the desk and leaned over at his
superior. "Damn it, you owe it to him."
The Official raised one eyebrow at Hobbes. "Eberts, hold off."
"Yes, sir." Eberts had never actually moved.
"You have twenty-four hours, Hobbes. Then I put out the order to have him brought in, by any means
necessary." With that statement, the Official turned back to the papers on his desk, dismissing
the two standing before him from his mind as well as his office.
Bobby took Casey by the arm and led her from the room. "We need to talk."
She wanted to say no, but from what Darien had told her, this man was the one person he trusted
with his life. "All right."
"Come on." Bobby led her downstairs to the Keep, where he was hoping to get a few items from
Claire as a precaution.
Casey was more than a little nervous as he led her deeper into the building. Considering some of
the things Darien had told her, it wasn't surprising that she was feeling more than a bit uneasy
here.
When they stopped before a metal door, she heard Hobbes curse under his breath. Pounding on the
door, he called out, "Claire, open the damn door. We need to talk."
Seconds later the door slid open. Bobby waved for Casey to enter ahead of him. Walking through, she
came face-to-face with a lovely blonde woman wearing a dark purple lab coat. "The Keeper, I
presume?" she guessed. "Now I see what Darien meant when he called you 'enigmatic.'"
Claire looked a bit confused, but then she recognized the woman in front of her from Darien's file.
"Casey O'Clare?" Claire closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Please don't tell me
you are Solution Omega?"
"Was, you mean. I don't know whether to give you the benefit of the doubt, or just go ahead and
hate you on principle." Casey was not in the mood to be kind to these people. She'd spent most of
the night dealing with a depressed and bitter man, so very different from the vital, joy-filled
hedonist she had once known and loved. He had been turned into a virtual stranger, one who wanted
nothing more than to be free of the living hell his very own brother had dumped him into, even if
that freedom cost him his life. It was sad. At one time Darien had been so very proud of his older
brother, of how smart he was, of all the good things he was trying to accomplish. Now the only
feeling he had left was a cold and bitter hatred.
Claire just shook her head. There was no way Casey could understand. She had done what was
necessary to keep Darien alive and reasonably healthy over the last year. The fact that she'd been
unable to give him any real hope was something that bothered her every single day, but the only
thing she could do was to work all that much harder towards finding a solution of one kind or
another. Either to removing the gland or, at the very least, to permanently counteracting the side
effect Arnaud had created. Either way, it would take time. "I've done my best to help him."
"Your best to *keep* him, you mean." She turned to Bobby before Claire had the chance to respond.
"Why are we here?"
"We are here because Claire has the stuff we need to bring in Fawkes safely," Bobby explained. They
would need to work together to bring him in unharmed and sane.
"Bobby, someone broke in here last night and stole all the
quicksilver files. I'm under a security watch. I should be able to issue a couple of tranq guns,
but not much else." She moved to the locked cabinet where they were stored and proceeded to open
it.
"Stole the quicksilver files?" Bobby asked, to make sure he had heard her right.
"Just copies. I still have all the information, and counteragent waiting for when he's brought
in." Claire checked the guns over carefully and made sure the dart cases were full. Each contained
six darts, and the guns were designed to hold two at a time so that there was no need to reload
after each shot. Locking the cabinet, she turned back to Bobby. "Don't hit him with more than one
tranq unless he's already in Stage Four. It could kill him."
Casey spoke up. "Have you tried altering the organic base of the counteragent to create an
inhibitor effect, as opposed to the simple counter?" She had spent part of the night reviewing the
files and had seen a few things that, perhaps, the Keeper had not.
"I've only had Arnaud's files for two weeks. I've just begun an in-depth examination of what he
did." Claire stopped, realizing what Casey's question meant. "How did you know that? Darien has
the quicksilver files, doesn't he?"
Casey didn't answer directly. "Have you looked into it?"
Claire was unsure what to say. "You have nowhere near enough
experience in the field to even make a vague guess." She turned back to the guns and picked them
up.
"Oh, please, just because I chose to work with emergency cases does not mean I don't have the
background. My parents were into
biochemistry and neurophysics. I kept up with both fields. Why do you think Darien came to me for
help in the first place?" As far a Casey was concerned, the important thing was to help Darien. No
more. No less. "Or are you just supposed to keep him controlled, hold his leash so that he'll be
forced to continue to work here?"
"Casey," Bobby warned, "don't do this. Claire has done everything she could for Fawkes. Including
going against direct orders on occasion to help him. So have I. If there is any chance that you
two, working together, can help Fawkes, I would suggest you put aside your animosity and do it.
'Cause if you don't, he will go elsewhere. And he's not likely to survive the experience." Bobby
watched as the two woman continued to glare at each other for a long moment, mentally crossing his
fingers. If their combined efforts could give Fawkes some hope, he'd pull every string he could,
even going to Monroe, if necessary, to get Casey the clearance she needed.
Casey paled. "He said he had a meeting this morning. Someone named Stark."
Bobby swore, and Claire closed her eyes. "Damn fool. We have to stop him. Do you know where?"
Casey shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me."
Claire shoved the guns at the two of them, then turned to grab a pad of paper and a pen. These she
handed to Casey. "Write down your idea in detail. I'm not going to risk losing another chance to
help him."
Casey looked at her and nodded. "How do we find him?"
Bobby fielded this one. "We start at the last place he was and go from there. I'm betting it was
the Drive Inn Motel. Room fifteen?"
Casey nodded. "Why didn't you grab him?"
"Actually, I didn't know he was there. I only followed you from his apartment. I must have missed
him," Bobby admitted. It's not like it was the first time Bobby had been tricked by Fawkes.
Sometimes, when he wanted to be, the kid was very clever. With a wave of his hand, he got them
moving. They still had to find Fawkes and convince him that there was, indeed, another way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Darien had spoken to Stark first thing in the morning, and after a bit of persuasion had gotten him
to agree to the addition of another person to verify the information. Since Stark would be doing the
same before continuing their little bargain, he had little reason to truly disagree. Personally,
Darien thought he'd been arguing just for the sake of arguing. Like he didn't want Darien to
realize that he was more than happy with the arrangements. Darien hadn't really cared beyond
getting him to agree and setting up a time and place that would be the least dangerous for him.
At exactly ten, the phone rang, and he passed the meeting time and place on to Monroe. He warned
her about trying anything, a warning which came from Stark, not himself. Monroe had just snorted in
derision and reminded him who was the higher rated agent. He hung up with his head shaking and a
small smile on his lips. One thing you could say about Monroe, she never lacked self-confidence.
Having a couple hours to kill, Darien decided to get something to eat. Once the food was in front
of him, though, he found his appetite lacking again. He couldn't remember the last time he'd
actually sat down and finished a real meal. Too long, he knew that much, but with no interest in
his life as it was, what was the point in eating? He'd been having difficulty sleeping as well, and
that used to be one of his favorite pastimes. He wished he could blame it on dreams, bad burritos,
something, but he couldn't. Whenever he lay down, all he saw was Kevin writing down his last words
to him, his writing deteriorating towards the end as the anti-peptide shot took effect and began to
erase the false life that the gland had given him.
Darien had watched the tape he'd made for Kevin over and over again since that day, wondering what
more he could have said. What other plea could he have made? What other demonstration of his
situation could he have left for him so that he would understand? So he would believe?
With a growl of frustration, Darien got to his feet and threw away the partially eaten meal. It had
left a bad taste in his mouth, as well as the feeling of nausea. He was so tired of feeling this
way. Casey had tried, but even her presence, her unwilling presence, had done nothing more than
increase his misery. Because of him, she had been forced into just another form of servitude to the
Agency. The Official had kept her around for the sole purpose of keeping him in line when nothing
else seemed to work. It had been too little, too late.
The Agency had made more than enough slaves. He would make sure they had no reason to keep Casey
chained any longer. Once he was gone, she should be free to continue her life as she wished to. Be
able to see her family again. Be able to walk without the fear of someone being after her hanging
over her head.
She had been kind enough to listen to him last night, but in the end he had turned down her offer
of help. The little she might be able to do would not and could not ease the despair that had been
building for so very long.
Going to his car, he decided to head out to the meeting place early and check out the area. Not
that he really cared if it was a trap. The small hope that Stark might actually be on the up-and-up
had long since faded, leaving him nothing more than the pleasant possibility that he might actually
do some good by going out this way. If Monroe got her son back, that would be more than worth his
lousy and useless life. At least her son had a future to look forward to.
Unlike himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bobby had to flash his badge to get the manager of the motel to let them back into the room Darien
had checked out of that morning. Even Hobbes wasn't quite sure what good it would do to check the
place out, but they had to start somewhere. There wasn't much of anything to find. Housekeeping had
been through already, so the garbage cans were empty, the bed was made, and the toilet was wrapped
in one of those paper strips that claimed it had been sanitized.
Casey had written down her theory about the counteragent on the drive over, and Claire was looking
it over with a level of excitement that she was careful to keep from showing. "How did Darien get
the quicksilver files?" she asked suddenly. "He said he was looking for the counteragent."
That caught Bobby's attention. "'He said'? Keepy, what are you hiding?"
Claire groaned at herself, realizing what she had just done, but figured Bobby would keep his lips
zipped as it concerned his partner. "I caught Darien trying to get into the Keep's computer last
night. Without success," she hurriedly added before Bobby could get the wrong idea. "I gave him a
small dose of counteragent and watched him leave just before the security detail came in."
"You gave him counteragent? Keepy, I'm shocked." Bobby was grinning like a fool. He liked it when
Claire chose Darien over the Agency. Showed there really was a human being under that lab coat.
Then his mind swung back to the problem at hand. "But if he didn't copy the files, who did?"
Casey shrugged. "He didn't tell me. Is there anyone else, besides the two of you, who might be
willing to help him?" Aside from letting her see the files and the comment about Stark, Darien had
told her nothing about his plans, and she hadn't wanted to push for fear that he'd send her away.
"You said he mentioned Stark?" Bobby asked her, and she nodded. "We'll assume he meant it, since
there's been no movement on the Doc Rendell front. So, who else has an interest in Stark?" He'd
just been thinking out loud, but the train of thought, once voiced, was enough to give both himself
and Claire the answer.
"Monroe," they said as one.
"Hell, Fawkes was probably just running a distraction while she got the files. Damn it. Sometimes
he's just too smart for his own good." Bobby paced about the room, unable to decide whether he
should be angry or impressed with his partner.
"Excuse me, who is this Monroe?" Casey asked, sounding more than slightly confused.
"Alex Monroe. She's another agent. She ... her son is currently in the possession of an
organization called Chrysalis, which is headed by Stark." Claire paused in her explanation and
looked at Bobby. "Do you think he made a deal? For her?"
Bobby stopped his pacing. "It's a kid. Of course he would. I'm just surprised Stark would go for
it."
Claire was able to easily disagree. "The quicksilver files are worth far more than one infant. All
the information to create a new gland is in there." She felt her heart sinking. "Imagine Chrysalis
with a score or more of invisible agents, all under their control. If they get that information, it
could be a reality in under six months."
"Ah, crap." Bobby muttered. "I have to call her." He pulled out his cell, but Claire's hand on
his arm stopped him.
"No, we have to follow her. If there is any chance at all she can get her son back through this, we
have to give her the opportunity. Then we steal back the files before Stark can get away," Claire
said.
Bobby nodded and closed the phone. "You're right. I may not like her all that much, but I can't let
Fawkes' effort go to waste either." He led the way back to the van. "Damn it, he could have come to
me for help."
"No Bobby, he couldn't," Casey said once she was sitting in the van. "He knew you'd try to talk him
into going back, and he didn't want to hurt you or make you do something you didn't want to when he
refused."
Bobby started the van and pulled back out into the late morning traffic. He headed back to the
office, hoping to arrive before Monroe left. "You know, for someone who doesn't give a damn
anymore, he sure is making sure not to hurt the rest of us."
"I noticed that myself," Claire agreed. "But how do we make him realize he has something to live
for?"
Casey sat there silent, thinking. There had to be a way.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~