Part 7
It was nearly sunset when they finally caught up with her. She'd hidden the Jeep damn well, in amongst some scrub with a desert-toned camouflage net tossed over it. Hobbes grunted in obvious appreciation of her skill, parked the van next to it, and then set about following the barely visible trail she'd left behind. They were well south of the cut-through they had used to spy on the lab the earlier in the day. In fact, where they now were, the hill had petered out into a fairly gentle rise that the van could have easily driven over had they wanted, or needed, to do so.
Hobbes had grabbed a pair of binoculars and a two-way radio from the van and watched the area cautiously. As they neared the top of the hill, he glanced over his shoulder at Darien who had been following along quietly. "Fawkes, check for lasers, would ya?"
"Huh? Oh, sure." Darien quicksilvered his eyes and glanced around as they slowly topped the hill. "Nothing nearby." He looked towards the lab well off to their left. "Looks like some closer to the building." The quicksilver flaked away and he looked about the swiftly darkening area. "Where is she?"
"Right behind you," a soft voice said out of the air a few feet to his right. "Down, please. They do have cameras that can see you."
Hobbes spun about to glare at the empty spot where they assumed she was standing. "Kid, we need to talk."
"No. You need to leave." She had moved, and Darien turned to reorient on her voice.
After years of dealing with Darien, Hobbes had gotten pretty good about finding someone invisible by voice and other subtle signs, like footprints left in the dust. With a quick movement, he stepped in front of Michele and grabbed an icy arm. "The Official had authorized resources to help you, but we have to plan." Hobbes let go as the cold began to make his hand go numb. "Fawkes, tell her."
"'Chele, fifteen minutes. That much time won't make any difference in whatever you were gonna try." Darien had started to make his way back down the hillside, out of view of the cameras she warned them of, hoping that Hobbes would follow.
She appeared in a shower of silvery flakes a few feet below him on the hillside. "All right, fifteen minutes."
Darien watched her back and she made her way down the hill with an easy stride. In the hour and a half it had taken Claire to decide he was fine and able for duty, his memory had returned. He now found himself sliding back into depression, thanks to large quantities of guilt. What Corvan had done to him, how he'd turned Darien against her so very easily. How he'd reacted, wanting nothing more than to hurt her, to use her and then throw her away, to bargain her away if it got him Cat in return. Darien remembered exactly what it was he'd done to her, and it came damn close to encompassing his worst fears and reminded him of why he hated this life so much, why they were always so careful about having counteragent along, why Bobby never hesitated to tranq him if he even suspected Darien was close to going over the edge. He'd become too damn dangerous.
About the only thing worse that he could have done would have been to kill her, and if she hadn't manipulated him into a different frame of mind, he might very well have. He'd been that angry at her.
When they arrived back at the vehicles, she ducked under the netting and reappeared with several bottles of water, which she shared out, and more pills. Hobbes caught his attention and, once he was facing him, he cleared his throat. "I'll give you two a couple, but I expect fifteen out of you after that, kid. Got it?" He shook a finger in Michele's direction and she gave him a mock salute. Darien waited till Bobby had shut himself back in the van before screwing up his courage to speak.
"I'm sorry." His voice was barely audible, even to his ears.
"For what?" She had leaned back against the Jeep while swallowing her pills and downing the water.
Darien played with the top on his as he stepped closer to her. The bruise on her cheek stood out plainly, the swelling still obvious, the eye puffy and half-closed, making her look sleepy. He ran light fingers over the bruise, making her flinch slightly in reaction. "For this. I know this isn't the time to talk about it, about you and Corvan... damn, 'Chele, I don't know what I was thinking."
"You were thinking exactly what he wanted you to. Bet you were planning on trying to bargain me for Cat once you were done with me." At his stunned look, she nodded slowly. "It wasn't you, not entirely anyway. He took your natural reaction and manipulated it. He's very good at what he does. I've watched him destroy peace accords in under ten minutes, start wars in thirty. I'm better at information exchange, he's better at twisting what's already there."
She tried to step away, but he set a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. "'Chele..." He got stuck on her name, unsure what to say, how to apologize for what he had done. Moving his hand he slid the collar of her shirt aside, revealing the bandage there. He'd hoped that that part of the memory had been wrong, but the blood stains on the gauze told him a story more chilling, to him, than any of his most violent dreams. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, which he released rather raggedly. After what had happened, he would understand it if she took the twins and ran, never contacted him again.
"Darien, look at me. Please?" With great reluctance, he opened eyes to meet hers. "Do you remember what you were feeling when you did this?"
"Alive," he whispered. "I felt alive."
Michele nodded. "And what was I feeling?"
Darien shook his head, refusing to believe that what he remembered her feeling could ever possibly be real. There had been such a joy in her, even as he did his worst, even as he raped her there in the sunshine and dappled shade provided by the trees.
"Who was teasing who?" she commented, as if she knew what was going on in him. She pushed off the Jeep and leaned against him with a sigh. "You have nothing to feel guilty over. I wanted it just as much as you did. And I felt just as alive as you did."
Darien began to shake at her touch, at her words. "I can't do this. I won't..."
*Hush. Can you forgive me? I brought Bobby there.*
Her presence in his mind was a comfort that he'd been afraid he'd never get to experience again. He wrapped his arms about her, not sure what was coming next for them, but willing to find out. *Forgiven,* he replied inexpertly. There was a sound behind them and Michele shifted slightly, turning her head.
"Yes, Bobby. We'll be right there."
"Ah, oh, okay then," Hobbes answered, then went back to the van.
Darien chuckled softly. "You are going to drive his paranoia crazy."
"I know." She stepped out of his hold and looked at him. "Cat is safe?"
"Yes, armed guards and Eberts. Alex was transferred to Leavitt for a psych exam, once they realized she was the one who called Corvan." Darien rubbed the back of his neck, wishing things had gone another way.
Chele tipped her head to the side. "Well, that'll sort itself out in time. Come on, before Bobby comes after us again."
Moments later Darien stuck his head into the van via the open rear door. "'Sup partner?"
Hobbes twitched. "What is it about the two of you? Make some sort of noise, would ya?"
"You mean the great and powerful Bobby Hobbes isn't infallible?" Darien asked as he climbed in and crouched next to the seat Hobbes was in as he stared at a computer screen.
"Smart-ass. Do you see a curtain? Kid, get over here." Michele climbed in as well, but kept her distance. "I can have five two-man back-up teams out here in a couple hours and we can storm the place, get your kid and whisk the lot of you off to safety." Hobbes was watching her carefully, but her look was blank and revealed nothing about what she was thinking at the moment.
"Why?"
"The intel you gave the Official and the fact that he really doesn't want Chrysalis to have quicksilver tech in any form. He wants you to wipe the computer system while we're rescuing Kit," Darien answered. When he'd given preliminary agreement to the Official, he was strangely sure she would agree. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't see her allowing them to keep any part of Kit, even if it was just raw data.
She nodded slowly, as if contemplating his words. "How? And storming the place won't work, trust me"
Hobbes chuckled. "Didn't really think so, but we could provide a distraction for your escape." She just looked at him. "You did say getting out would be more difficult, right?"
"Yes, it will be. And yes, a well-timed distraction will help, but getting Kit to safety is my number one priority." Michele moved closer, having hunch over only slightly in the van.
"Covered. A team will be standing by to whisk him away to safety as soon as he's brought out, while we keep them busy. You and Fawkes will meet up with the kids at a location to be decided later. From there it's up to you." Hobbes turned to look at Fawkes, knowing that this was the part he didn't like.
"You can go into hiding on your own, though the Official has requested you keep in contact for your safety -- monthly check ins, or something like that. It may be some time before you're really safe. Even if we break up Changeling, Chrysalis may come after you." Darien had already decided that her leaving was for the best, both for her and the kids, at least until Claire figured out the gland. He could deal with living without them if they were safe. And that included safe from him.
"Corvan will come after me. He has to. Without me, there's no one to breed for them." Her voice was harsh, but she regained control after a moment. "Thanks. I'll take the help." She sat down on the floor of the van and leaned back against the wall. "What did you have in mind?"
Outside, the sun had finally slipped below the horizon.
They were plastered up against the outside wall of the building that faced the helipad. The quarter moon had just risen in the east, casting its pale white light across the sand. It would have left the two of them awash in it except that 'Chele was easily handling the quicksilver for both of them. He'd argued that they'd show on thermals, but she had a trick that canceled out the cold effect, leaving them truly invisible. His mind had wandered for a few minutes as they made their way slowly along the exterior wall, contemplating just a few small heists he could pull with her and this little trick. The fun they could have on their own, with no Agency to tug on his leash, no one after her....
*Dare...* she'd admonished gently, though with more than enough humor in her thoughts for him to know she found the idea tempting.
They were waiting for Hobbes to let them know he had finally gotten a lock on the lab's security system, so that Michele wouldn't have to try and fool the security at the same time they were making their way through the building. She was capable of doing it, but she had been honest and told them it took quite a bit of concentration and she'd have to divide her attention. She could manage on her own, but with Darien along the risk factor went up dramatically. Darien had told her point blank that she was not going to go in alone.
So Michele downloaded the information she'd stored in that mind of hers into the security overview program Alex had brought with her to the Agency. Seeing as she was a bit... tied up at the moment, neither Darien nor Hobbes thought she'd mind them using it. Much. They'd spent some time going over the data while they waited for the backup to arrive, and tried to establish a connection with the building's systems. It wasn't easy -- the lab was on its own power, and most transmissions were either satellite or cell tower, including the computer links. Eventually though, Bobby, with some help from Michele, was able to get into the system. Talking to it was more difficult. The security was tight, and Michele couldn't link to it with her mind. There were limits to what even she could do.
Bobby had promised to have the connection working by the time they were ready to head in, but they had been waiting nearly ten minutes now and didn't dare make any more noise than necessary. 'Chele was already messing with the security in their area so the sensors wouldn't pick up the sounds they couldn't help but make as they moved. Darien knew that if Bobby didn't get his ass in gear soon, she'd head inside anyway and he didn't think he'd be able to stop her. Darien leaned in close to her, found her ear by feel. "Five more minutes. He'll have it working," he whispered.
*Five and no more. The overnight staff is minimal.* She turned her head slightly, moving it close enough to rest lightly against his. *You don't have to speak aloud. I'll hear you like this. Just focus on me.*
Darien followed her instructions, which involved more than just the words in his mind -- there were also directions that showed him what he'd need to do. It wasn't anything difficult, but would take some getting used to. *A bit quieter this way, as well.* He tried and was surprised to find it easier than he'd thought. *Is Kit all right?*
*Sleeping. I don't want to wake him till necessary.* The worry in her mental voice was thick, but he caught the overtone of something else. Another concern that wasn't directly related to the matter at hand.
*'Chele...*
"I'm in, Fawkes," Hobbes suddenly said in his ear, startling him. Michele's hand settling on his chest kept him from jumping out of his skin, but it was a near thing and left his heart pounding and adrenaline surging through him. 'Chele was handling the quicksilver for several reasons, not least of which was to avoid the risk of him going mad again. He would only use the gland if absolutely necessary.
Darien made a soft clicking noise that was the agreed-upon acknowledgment to Hobbes' communication. Then, with her hand tightly held in his, they made their way to the small gated entrance that ran along this wall. They were trusting Hobbes to lead them through the security measures, to tell them when cameras weren't aimed their way, direct them around or through the laser grids, keep them out of sight of the thermal cameras. He would also let them know when they would have to take a more direct approach and disarm or disable security themselves. Hobbes had no control over the systems, he could only see them and give them the necessary warnings or advice.
It worked, though. Michele, and occasionally even Darien, could handle the few obstacles they encountered. Within minutes they were inside the building and making their way down, into the lab proper via an emergency stairwell. The people awake and moving about were few and far between, and the stray guards making rounds were easily avoided even with the thermals they were wearing. Neither Michele nor Darien gave a damn why security seemed to be so relaxed on this night. Anything that went their way was not something they'd complain about.
Once they reached the correct level, it was Michele who took over, leading them as she followed the link she had to Kit, as well as the data in her head about where he was being kept. They found themselves in a true lab, with banks of computers and equipment of every type imaginable, including embryo storage. There were small cryo-pods that Darien recognized, and what looked like infants in tanks of water. He didn't even want to contemplate the possibility that they might be alive.
Michele's sudden reappearance, with a look of disgust and horror on her face, gave him all the answer he needed. Color returned to his sight seconds later, and he watched as she approached one of the tanks, her hand coming up to rest against the thick glass. She shuddered. "Alive, what there is to them."
Darien moved to her side. "What is this?" Now that he was closer he could see the rise and fall of the infant's chest, noticed the wires that trailed from the small body, up out of the tank, and to the nearby machines. It twitched in reaction to something and opened it's eyes to stare about itself blindly. The eyes were nothing but solid blood-red orbs.
"Gland experiments using the information I stole from the Agency. They wanted to create a gland that would develop with the child, but they haven't figured out how to remove the flaw yet." She backed away from the tank, shaking her head to clear it. "The poor thing is stuck in a state of quicksilver madness. There's just enough counteragent in the liquid to keep it from going Stage Five."
Darien didn't want to know how she knew all that, didn't care. All he wanted was to end it -- this poor creature would never have a real life, never know anything but the discomfort of quicksilver, perhaps never leave its watery environment. "'Chele, you didn't know what they were going to do." He was trying to ease the guilt that emanated from her.
"Of course I did," she snapped. "Arnaud had been working with them, remember?" She moved further into the room. "We have to get Kit. Now."
Darien followed her through the lab to where a large glass window was located. On the far side was a fairly large room filled with toys, monitoring equipment, a bed with a sleeping guard, and a crib, with his son. Darien sucked in a surprised breath at seeing him lying quietly on back, arms flung above his head as he slept, oblivious to the fact his parents were standing just a few feet away. He was wearing one of those footed jammie things, with his head turned slightly towards the window so that Darien had no problems seeing that face, or the dark brown hair, a stray lock of which was curled on the infants forehead. "'Chele..."
She put a finger to her lips and he shut his mouth on the rest of his words. Setting her hands on the glass, she closed her eyes and tipped her head slightly to the side. *Remember your promise to me? To protect them?* Darien nodded, not sure why she was reminding him of it right now. *I'm holding you to it.* She stepped over to the door of the room and, with a shove from her mind to get it open, rushed inside with Darien behind her. The guard never had a chance to do more than sit up before Michele was upon him. She didn't hesitate -- with a quick move, she snapped his neck and left the body where it fell.
She was at the crib a moment later, lifting Kit, who was crying in fright, and cradling him to her. She whispered soothing words to the child until he calmed. "Come here, Dare." When he joined her, looking over her shoulder at his son, she smiled up at him. *Kit, meet Darien, your father.* It was more than just the words -- with her abilities, she connected the two of them. Kit's small mind went from slight fear to radiant joy at the meeting. Kit would always recognize him now, Darien somehow knew, and this contact was something to treasure, something to hold onto, something to fight for.
Alarms began to go off then as the attack from the outside commenced to facilitate their escape. Michele handed Kit to him. "Take him and get out."
"Not without you," Darien argued, even as he took his son in his arms. He saw the look on her face, knew that she was going to stay, going to do what she could to shut down this place and, even though the Official had asked her to, Darien would rather she didn't. They could drop a bomb on the place later.
"Kit, Dare. Protect Kit and Cat." She set her hand on him and let the quicksilver flow over them both. "Go. Please."
He knew she was right. "Michele, be careful." He hesitated for one more second and then, after making sure he had a secure hold on Kit, turned and fled the room. He made his way out through the lab, dodging both techs and weapon-wielding soldiers, replacing her quicksilver with his own when it flaked off. He still felt her in his mind. She hadn't dropped the contact that allowed them to communicate so easily. He could feel her anger as she broke through the computer's security and systematically began to destroy every record, every piece of data, every bit of work that had ever been stored there; felt her send the order to erase all data to all the other computer systems that Chrysalis owned; felt her set the self-destruct code for the building.
He had made it out by then and was met by a team from the Agency who, as planned, took Kit from him. They took the baby boy to a nearby vehicle, which would take him to safety.
Hobbes was waiting for Darien, to head back in if necessary to get Michele. Anger and frustration burned across the link, making Darien's head ache. It was weaker now, though -- something or someone perhaps was blocking her. She tried to get past it, but it burned her mind and, through the connection, his as well.
*'Chele!* he all but screamed at her with his mind.
*Run!* was her only response.
Darien ran back towards the lab, even as everyone came boiling out. The electronic voice announcing the impending destruction could be heard counting down the final seconds. Darien found himself flung to the ground, a heavy weight upon his back. He struggled to get up when Hobbes' voice penetrated through the overwhelming need to find her, to save her.
"Fawkes, it's too late."
"No, damn it, she's still alive, I can feel her." Darien rolled and threw off Bobby, only to feel the ground shudder beneath his body and low rumble vibrate him hard enough to make his teeth ache. The ground shifted upward momentarily then dropped, settling several feet lower than before. There was a sudden burst of joy and release, tinged with just a hint of regret, across his senses, then nothing. A blank wall where Michele used to be.
Dust rose into the air in great billowing clouds, blocking off the small amount of light the moon had been providing, leaving him lying in an inky pool of darkness.
*'Chele?* he tried, with little hope. Somehow he knew what that surge of emotions had meant, knew that she... that she.... "No!" he screamed into the night air. He forced himself to his feet, headed for the remains of the lab.
Hobbes stopped him, yet again. "Fawkes, help is on the way. If she's alive, they'll find her." Darien had continued moving, and only stopped when he reached the edge of the shallow crater that had formed where the lab had been. The explosion had imploded it, causing the complex to collapse into itself. The buildings that had been standing on the desert floor were now several yards below him, shattered and broken beyond salvaging, only small pieces remaining to identify them as to what they once were. It was a scene horribly reminiscent of pictures he'd seen on television many months before.
Darien sank to the ground heavily, numb. "'Chele?" he called aloud in disbelief.
Hobbes stood behind him, unsure what to do. "Fawkes... Darien, we have to go. Your kids still need to be moved to safety."
It seemed to take forever for the words to penetrate past the emptiness in his mind. "Kids?"
"Yeah Fawkes, the twins. Kit and Cat. Remember?" Hobbes wasn't sure how to help him -- even with his words of possible rescue of Michele, he knew the chances were slim, but he also knew if he didn't get Fawkes moving he might never break him out of the cycle of loss he was swiftly becoming buried under.
It was Michele's own words that broke him free. Echoing softly through his mind -- 'You'll keep them safe, won't you? Kit and Cat? You won't abandon them, will you?' He groaned, his agony finding a voice, and then pushed himself to his feet. Raising a shaking hand to his face, he rubbed his eyes, which had become irritated by all the dust in the air, and was surprised to discover he'd been crying. "I remember, Bobby. The kids come first." He managed a few faltering steps away from the hole in the ground, before pausing one last time to look back. "Bobby?"
"They'll tear the place apart until we know. I promise," Hobbes said to him.
With a nod, Darien was able to turn and move away, with Hobbes right beside him.
When they arrived at the Agency, hoping to find out where Darien would need to go to meet up with the kids, they instead found bodies. The first one was lying on the floor in the lobby, a bullet in the back of his head. Hobbes' gun came out instantly, and he squatted down to check on the man. Hobbes removed the face mask he wore and looked carefully at the visage revealed. Darien was standing nearby, unable to really feel anything. The drive here had done nothing to help him. He was worried about the twins, but because he'd still been in contact with Michele when.... when the lab had been destroyed, his mind was caught in a seemingly endless loop going over and over the last few seconds of contact.
"Fawkes, this isn't one of our guys," Hobbes said as he got to his feet. "Come on."
Hobbes led the way deeper into the building, down towards the level where both the Keep and the secure room for Cat were. When they discovered signs of a struggle, and the bodies of a couple of agents they recognized, Darien's mind snapped out of the groove it had become stuck in. "Ah, crap. Cat." He took off at a dead run, ignoring the shouted protests of his partner.
Hobbes caught up with him in the nursery. The nurse herself was unconscious, sprawled on the bed. The crib was empty. Darien was sitting on the floor, where just a few days ago Michele had collapsed, holding the pink and yellow blanket Cat had showed up in, and her favorite toy. The duck. He looked up at Hobbes in total bewilderment, his mind too overcome to grasp what was happening. Had it only been days ago that his life had been a living hell, when he'd suffered from mind-searing pain and nearly overwhelming depression, only to have it completely turned around with the return of Michele? She'd brought not only hope but a family, his family, into his life. To have them ripped away so suddenly, so unceremoniously, just seemed far, far too cruel.
"Bobby, what's going on?"
"I wish I knew, Fawkes." Darien wasn't sure what Hobbes saw as he looked down at him, but it was enough for him to realize that Darien was at the overload point. "Stay here. I'm going to check out the Keep."
Darien nodded and saw the sympathy in his friend's eyes. Then he turned back to the items in his hands and folded in on himself, not wanting to face the loss of both Michele and Cat in a single evening. It was Claire's voice that finally brought him back to the world about him.
"Darien, are you all right? Bobby told us about the lab." She looked worried as she crouched before him next to the crib.
"Kit. Is Kit safe? Or did we fuck up that one, as well?" Darien's voice was raw with unshed tears, with tightly contained emotions, with pain and heartache that only had one small glimmer of hope remaining.
"That's what you need to go find out," the Official said from somewhere nearby.
Darien pushed himself to his feet, still holding the blanket and the toy. The Official had a bruise forming on his forehead and was looking a bit pale. "Corvan and his men broke in while you were attempting the rescue. He locked us in the padded room."
"He wanted Cat, and did some damage to find her," Claire said as she stood before Darien and lifted his right hand to check the monitor lying coiled there. That's when Darien realized she was injured as well. She was sporting a black eye and torn lip. "We didn't tell him, but he knew."
Eberts, with Hobbes beside him, came into the room then. Eberts was a mass of bruises, one eye nearly swollen shut and the right side of his head bloody.
Darien closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Thank you," he said softly, and he meant it. Even though none of them had been very happy over the situation, they had all done their best to protect Cat. He couldn't blame them for failing. It was his responsibility.
"We've lost contact with the car transporting your son," Eberts said, his voice distorted by the swelling of his face. "I'm sorry, Darien, but he might very well have gotten the information from me."
Darien's eyes had opened as Eberts was speaking, and now he shook his head at the man. "Not your fault. How do you stop yourself from thinking?"
Claire had checked over the nurse and then returned to his side, holding a syringe of counteragent. Without a word of complaint, he held out an arm and didn't even feel the usual sting of pain as she broke through the tender skin at his elbow to inject it into his system.
"Fawkes, you and Hobbes need to go check on the situation," the Official said, anger creeping into his tone.
Darien nodded and set the blanket in the crib, the duck atop it. "I think we should, too."
What they found didn't make either of them feel better. The transport car had been forced off the road, both the driver and the back up were dead, and the car seat, which Kit had been securely tucked into, was gone.
Somehow Darien held it together, anger coming to the surface. The need to find his children was foremost in his mind, along with a growing need for revenge against Corvan. They spent two days trying to track down Corvan and the kids, while Darien also waited for word from the rescue operations at the lab. People had been rescued out there, but so far only those from Chrysalis. Michele had been deep underground when the place had collapsed, and hope was growing fainter every day.
The Official told them about the discovery of a burned-out SUV found on a lonely back road well south of the city. There had also been a pair of shot up sedans found with it. Eberts' jaw had been broken during his interrogation, so he simply handed the directions to the location over to the agents with a nod.
The drive was mostly silent, neither man having anything to say. Over the last couple of days, as they followed stray clues and false leads, they had talked and settled things between them. Both had apologized for various things that had happened over the last year and agreed that their partnership, their friendship, was worth far more than holding onto the lingering remains of things done out of desperation. Claire had even unbent at last, as she realized she'd been holding onto her anger just because she thought there could be nothing else. It was odd -- Michele had begun the chain of events that had nearly broken them beyond repair, and yet it was also Michele who had brought them back together again.
They came upon the crash scene and knew it was bad from the moment they stopped the van. A huge area was taped off, there were several teams marking off evidence for later collection, and the coroner was on site. Lying on the ground next to the van were three hastily-covered bodies -- one obviously an adult, and the others tiny.
Darien found himself unable to move closer, the stench of burned plastic and metal making his stomach roil in protest. Hobbes must have caught the look on his face.
"Easy, my friend. We don't know anything yet." When Darien nodded tightly, he wandered away to find out what was going on.
It was the familiar gold pins on the bodies of those in the sedans that made the picture look bleak. They all wore the small double helix that meant they were members of Chrysalis. If this had been Corvan and the twins, then it was entirely possible that Chrysalis had tracked down where Corvan was, or perhaps Corvan called them for another bargaining session, and things had gone sour. Bobby stood by Darien's side as the coroner gave a very preliminary and less-than-detailed description of the scene. Darien stopped listening after the man confirmed that the children were very young -- only a few months old -- and their sexes, based on other evidence, being one boy and one girl.
Hobbes got Darien back into the van and then, after a couple of phone calls to pull the right strings, claimed jurisdiction of the scene.
"Fawkes, we don't know anything yet. Let the Keep run some tests first." Hobbes stood outside the passenger door, looking over the scene as they waited for the Agency teams to arrive and take over. For the time being, the police continued to search for evidence. They were cooperating for a change, perhaps realizing that this particular 'accident' was a bit more personal for the two agents.
Darien nodded. "I know, Bobby, but...." he trailed off and waved towards the scene. "It just makes sense. Corvan swiped the kids and tangled with Chrysalis over them." The hand began to shake and he ran it across his face, trying not to lose hope, trying to hold it together. "I promised her I'd protect them, and... and I failed."
"Unless a man or woman has experienced the darkness of the soul he or she can know nothing of that transforming laughter without which no hint of the ultimate reality of the opposites can be faintly intuited."
Helen Luke may have been wise enough to realize this and share it with the world, but she fails to tell us what we should do when we fall back into that darkness.
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