DS #9 A Life for a Life (2/?)
By Carol M.
See prologue for details
Um, not sure when the next part will be out. Either tomorrow or Sunday. Enjoy, kiddies!
Claire looked up in surprise from the pile of files in her lap when she heard the door to the apartment open. Darien emerged, looking sore and exhausted.
"What happened? Why are you home so early?" asked Claire with urgency as she struggled to get out of the bed.
Darien put a hand up to stop her. "It's okay, stay in bed. I just got a little banged up is all. The Official let us out of school early," said Darien as he drifted towards the bed, crumpling in the center of it. He held up his wrist. "Need a shot," he muttered.
Claire nodded in agreement when she saw that his tattoo read 3 segments green, 6 segments. She reached into the drawer next to the nightstand and pulled out a fresh syringe of counteragent that she had prepared that morning in the temporary lab she had set up in their apartment. She ejected the air bubbles from the syringe and then carefully injected the contents into Darien's arm. Darien moaned and then sagged further into the bed in exhaustion.
"Tell me what happened?" asked Claire with concern as she pulled Darien closer to her.
"Hobbes tried to take Golda to the Indy 500, that's what happened. I think I might have pulled every muscle in my neck and upper back," said Darien, sighing in discomfort.
"Bloody, Darien you can't even ride in a car without getting injured," she said with amusement.
Darien looked up at her with slight disgust. "Are you going to fix me here or are you going to make fun of my tragic plight?"
Claire gave him a large grin and then carefully removed his shirt and jacket. Then she rolled him on to his stomach and began examining his neck and back. She pressed firmly against the spot where his spinal cord started, eliciting a harsh moan out of Darien.
"It looks like you just strained some muscles," she said after a few more minutes of poking and prodding.
"What do we do about that?" asked Darien.
"We do this," said Claire as she started firmly kneading the muscles of his neck and back. At first Darien's groans were pain-filled, but after a few minutes they became moans of relief.
"Oh god," he said in a voice filled with ecstasy. "Why do you do this to me?" he asked.
"Do what?" she asked innocently.
"You get me all hot and bothered when you know I can't freakin perform in my injured and pained condition," he said.
Claire smiled and shook her head, continuing to work magic on Darien's back. When she was done with the massage, she placed a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. "There, all better."
"Um…could you maybe keep doing that," he said in a near pleading tone.
"Do what?" asked Claire.
"That thing where you kissing me," he replied as he pushed his face into the comforter.
"Oh this?" asked Claire devilishly as she placed a trail of kisses down his back.
"Yeah, that," replied Darien in a muffled voice.
"With pleasure," said Claire as she continued her ministrations with her lips.
**
"I just can't figure it out," said Bobby as he scanned the foyer of Darien's apartment building from the van.
"Figure what out?" asked Alex as she picked up some binoculars to scan the street.
"McClellan. What would he want with Fawkesy?" asked Bobby.
"Well, McClellan is a very powerful man with a very powerful organization. Maybe he needed Fawkes for a mission or something," replied Alex as she continued to scan the streets.
"Something's off with this thing though. You saw the Official, he was spooked out of his head. And let me tell you, that man does not get spooked easy, my friend," said Bobby.
"Well whatever is, Fawkes and Claire are safe. There's no way anybody is getting past us or the agents posted around the building," said Alex as she set down the binoculars.
"I think Fawkes has a right to know about this," said Bobby as he glanced back at Alex. "Don't you agree? Wouldn't you want to know?"
"Know what, Bobby? We don't even know what's going on," said Alex.
"Hey, Bobby Hobbes knows exactly what's going on," he said confidently.
"Oh yeah? What's going on then?" asked Alex.
"McClellan wants our see-through boy for something big, something really big," said Bobby as he once again glanced at the foyer.
"Hobbes, do you ever listen to yourself?" asked Alex with amusement.
"As a matter of fact I do. You shouldn't take my hunches lightly there, Monroe. I'm normally right," said Bobby defensively.
"Just keep telling yourself that, Bobby," said Alex as she picked up a walkie-talkie. "Agent one, this is base, check in, over," said Alex into the device.
"This is Agent Parker reporting, all clear in the alley," said the voice of Agent Parker.
"Okay, good," said Alex as she switched over to another channel. "Agent two, report."
"All clear in the stair, Agent Hunter, over," replied the agent over the microphone.
Alex continued the process with the other agents and breathed a sigh of relief when everyone had given them the all-clear sign. "See Bobby, what did I tell you? Everything's fine. The Official just went a little overboard, that's all."
"For once Monroe, I hope you're right," said Bobby as he once again scanned the foyer.
Several hours later, darkness had fallen, encasing the outside of the apartment building in a black velvety fog. Bobby was still checking the foyer every two seconds, while Alex was busy surveying the windows.
"Why the hell does he always leave his windows open?" asked Alex.
"Cause he's a little punk who doesn't know any better," replied Bobby. He picked up the walkie-talkie and turned it on the proper channel. "Papa bear to all cubs, papa bear to all cubs, what's your sig rep, over?"
"This is Agent Parker reporting. I got a black Suburban parked about a mile away. Looks like…" Parker's voice faded out, replaced by static.
"Parker, report, report, what's going on?" asked Bobby urgently. "Agent 2, report!" A deafening silence greeted him from the walkie-talkie.
Bobby glanced up at the apartment in a slight panic. He quickly picked up his cell phone and started to dial Darien's number. When he realized he wasn't getting a signal, he threw down the phone in disgust. "It's been jammed," he said grimly.
He was about to get out of the van, when he saw the reflection of a man in the side mirror easing along Golda towards his position in the driver's seat. "We got company, Monroe," whispered Bobby as he cocked his gun and waited for the man to approach him.
Seconds later, the man was at the window.
"Nice try, pal," said Bobby as he aimed his gun at the man's head. "But you forgot who you…" Bobby lost consciousness as a harsh spray hit him in the face.
"Hobbes!" yelled Alex as she aimed her gun at the man at the driver's window. She felt a sting in the back of her neck, and the world started to dim around her. Seconds later, she too was slumped over unconscious in her seat.
The two men joined together in the front of the van. "Team 6, it's a go. Retrieve target now. Over and out," said one of the men into a walkie-talkie of his own.
**
Claire let Darien's snoring lull her in into a deep reading state of mind. She had once again started going through the file folders, studying readouts on counteragent and quicksilver levels. She was immersing herself in data, trying to make all the information a permanent part of her brain. She knew that after the baby came she just wouldn't have the time for a little light reading.
She was about to reach a particularly interesting section in one of the files on the effect of quicksilver on hair growth when the electricity suddenly went off. She looked around in the darkness, feeling out of sorts for a few moments until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She fumbled for the phone next to the bed and after a few failed attempts, found it. She put her ear to the receiver and was about to dial out when she realized the phone was dead. She replaced the phone in the holder, starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Darien," she whispered as she shook the lump buried under the covers next to her. "Darien, wake up," she said urgently.
"Hmmm, wuz going on?" she heard him say in a muffled voice.
She reached down and pulled the covers off his face.
"Whoa, did you forget to pay the electricity bill, Keep?" asked Darien in a sleepy voice as he realized the apartment was pitch black and way too quiet.
"Something's wrong," she said in a fearful tone.
Darien shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of his brain. He felt around and stumbled out of bed, tripping over a cord and crashing to the floor. "Damn it," he whispered as he quicksilvered his eyes to see in a clearer spectrum. He moved towards the window and looked out. "What the hell?" he whispered.
"What?" asked Claire.
"Golda's down there," said Darien. He cupped his hands over his mouth and started shouting to his partner. "Hobbes, Hobbes, what the hell are you doing down there?" When he didn't get a reply, he shook his head in frustration and started for the door. "I'm going down there," he said. He stopped short when he heard the stomping of harsh footsteps coming down the hall. "Aw crap," he yelled as he quickly ran towards the bed and felt for Claire. He instantly let the quicksilver flow from his body onto hers, effectively quicksilvering both of them. "Be quiet," he warned her.
The sound of the door crashing down startled the hell out of both of them. "Drop the quicksilver, Fawkes. We got thermals," yelled a man with thick goggles and a nasty looking gun in his hand.
Darien instantly threw himself at the man, trying desperately to protect Claire. He was rewarded with a sharp blow across the face from the man's gun.
"No! Help! Please help!" shouted a still invisible Claire from the bed.
"Nice try, Fawkes," said the man.
The quicksilver flaked off Darien as he hit the floor harshly with a muffled whimper. Claire let it flake off of her as well, realizing being invisible wasn't doing either of them any good. Darien lay on the floor, holding his bleeding head, looking towards the blurry outline of Claire in the bed. "Please don't hurt her!" he shouted at the man standing over him.
"Believe me, we have no intention," said the man as he pulled out a small tube and sprayed Darien in the face. Darien slumped to the ground, completely unconscious.
"No!" cried Claire as she struggled to get out of bed. "What the hell are you doing?" she shouted furiously, tears starting to work their way down her face.
"Time for a little nap," said another man as he stepped towards Claire and sprayed her with the same solution. Claire held her breath, trying desperately not to breathe in the substance, but she could tell the resistance was futile. Through eyes that were slowing closing, she saw the men pick up the limp, unconscious form of Darien and drag him roughly out of the apartment. After that, all she saw was the pitch blackness of unconsciousness.
TBC
