Part 5


When Bobby arrived back at their current residence, Darien was doing his damnedest to not take a
piece out of the guy poking at his knee. He had refused to let the guy cut off his pant leg, not
after the threats of torture that Logan character had leveled at Hobbes earlier. In fact, it had
taken two nasty-looking guys with very large weapons to get him to submit to an exam at all. With
swift precision and no sympathy at all, the guy cleaned his head wound -- ignoring the hisses of
pain Darien unavoidably allowed to escape -- shined a light in his eyes, making him blink in
reaction, and then set out to see just how much pain he could inflict to his knee.

"Damn it, that freaking hurts!" Darien shouted at the man who was trying to convince the mangled
knee to bend. The urge to lash out at the guy was tough to fight, especially in his current state
of near madness. It was the gland making its presence known that ended the argument

This time Darien flinched backwards, smacking his head in the wall before trying to curl up into
fetal position with his hands wrapped tightly about his neck. His fingers curled into his hair, as
if trying to go after the gland itself, to tear it out of his own skull to free himself of the
pain. He couldn't think, could only react.

Bobby tried to rush to Fawkes' side when he saw what was happening, but was restrained by the two
mooks escorting him. When he saw what must be the field doc for the unit pull out a syringe and a
vial, he went still. "Whatever that is, don't do it. Don't give it to him."

The corpsman turned to Hobbes. "It's a muscle relaxant. It should help ease the convulsions."

Bobby shook his head. "No. You have no idea what you're dealing with. Just leave him be."

Darien's body relaxed then, his chest heaving as he tried to fill lungs that were nearly starved
for air. After the recent mess with the gland, his lone week of freedom, his realization that he
was damn useless to the Agency without the gland working at full, this.... reminder of the other
side, of what the cost was, almost made him wish he hadn't had Claire 'fix' him. For all the good
that even Alex admitted he'd done, the pain, the hell that he knew was coming, was damn near not
worth it.

Finally having caught his breath, his pushed himself upright and ran a shaky hand through his hair,
only to see Bobby being held in place buy a couple of the militia guys and the doc wielding a
needle. For an instant he debated asking the guy to knock him out -- or better yet, give him such a
high dose of some sedative that he'd never wake up again -- but the worry, the almost... fright in
Bobby's eyes stilled his tongue and forced him to swallow those words.

"Epilepsy?" the doc asked him.

Darien shook his head, wondering how to answer. Remembering his adventure with lightning, he came
up with a near-perfect answer. "Brain tumor. Currently inoperable. I'm on medication to control the
seizures it sometimes causes, but...." he trailed off.

"Ah yes. Lost with the plane crash." He nodded and put away the sharp toys. "Though I have to
wonder why they still have you working if this can happen."

"'Cause it usually don't interfere with his work," Hobbes snapped out and yanked his arms free of
the mooks holding him. Fawkes was getting pretty damn fast on his feet, coming up with bullshit to
toss out, and he'd come up with a pretty good explanation. This time he was allowed to go to his
partner's side. He noticed the bloodshot eyes Fawkes was sporting, though they had yet to reach
that really nasty stage. It was going to be close. He turned to the corpsman. "You fixing him up or
just checking out the best way to hurt him?"

The corpsman tipped his head to the side. "Logan wanted me to examine him. If all goes well, you'll
be out of here soon." He turned to Darien. "There's not much I can do for your knee. Keep your
weight off of it, but flex your foot now and then. If you start losing sensation below the knee,
have your guards get me." He reached back into his pack and pulled out a bottle of Tylenol. "Take
two every four hours. It should help with the pain and the swelling. Unless it will cause a problem
with the seizures?"

Darien shook his head and took the bottle from him.

"Good. Someone should be bringing you a meal within the hour." He closed the bag and got to his
feet. Moments later, Fawkes and Hobbes were alone again.

"How's Alex?" Darien asked as he struggled to open the child-proof cap on the bottle.

Hobbes took it from his hands and, with a practiced motion, got it open and shook two out onto
Darien's palm. "Girl's got balls, I'll say that much for her. She's safe for the next twelve
hours." Closing the bottle, he leaned back against the wall, sitting on the floor beside Fawkes.
"I passed along all they wanted."

Darien raised one eyebrow, not wanting to ask the question aloud.

"The messages will be delivered. All of them," Hobbes answered and watched as Fawkes nodded in
understanding. "Swallow those. They don't do you any good on the outside."

Darien snorted, but did as Bobby directed. He stared at his wrist for a moment, noting that only
one remained green now. His last bit of sanity. Times like this he hated the monitor, his countdown
to madness. That nifty visual cue that told the world 'Darien Fawkes ends here.' He looked at
Bobby. "How bad?" He knew what was coming, could feel/hear those whispers in the back of his mind
slowly gaining in volume, beating on that little door he usually kept them locked behind.

"Doing that nasty bloodshot thing there, my friend. Just keep yourself calm, do that biofeedback
and meditation stuff the Keep is always going on about. Last time I checked, you still ran the show
and not that little blob of synthetic ooze in the back of your skull." Bobby got to his feet and
fetched a cup of water for Fawkes. Instead of settling back down next to him, though, he went to
the window and looked out over the quiet compound.

"Bobby, you don't get it. Eventually I get to the point where I don't want to fight it. Where I...I
crave it, almost. Sometimes worse than the counteragent. And you have no idea how much that scares
me." Darien's voice was soft, almost sad, but it needed to be said. For Bobby to be warned that at
any moment he could lose control and then ... and then it wouldn't matter that Bobby was his
partner, his friend.

"Oh, I get it, Fawkes. You've never seen good ol' Bobby Hobbes completely off his meds. You think
you get a little wacko and impulsive? Trust me, my friend, you don't hold a candle to Bobby Hobbes
in full nutso mode. Besides, what with you doing the
one-legged thing and all, I think I can take you -- adrenaline high or not." Bobby tried to sound
confident for Darien, and it seemed to work. "Get some rest. If things go well, you'll need it."

Darien didn't ask, knowing that right now, with a high chance of listeners, Bobby wouldn't tell him.



Between the drugs, injuries, and simple exhaustion, Alex managed to drift off for a time, grateful,
in some ways, to no longer be connected to the pain her body was currently in. Escaping the pain on
her heart was another matter. The current situation had just brought back all the heartache and
regret concerning her son and, for what seemed like the millionth time, her sleeping mind chose to
replay the events of those few days she'd had him back. This time there was no happy ending, as
sometimes occurred. This time she ended up trapped in, of all places, the Official's office, with
both the Official and Eberts tag-teaming her. Asking questions she was not given a chance to
answer, piling files in her arms and on the table before her, handing out assignment after
assignment when all she wanted to do was get out of there and get back to her search for her son.
She was on the verge of screaming in frustration when she was pulled out of sleep.

Alex tried to sit up, prepared to defend herself, and screamed in pain instead. A scream that was
muffled by the hand rudely shoved over her mouth.

"Shhh, we need to talk."

It took a moment, but the voice registered as Jane's. She relaxed back down into the cushions that
had been propping her up and waited for Jane to remove her hand. Which she did as soon as she knew
Alex had control back. "What's going on?"

"Not sure, but several helicopters have flown over in the last hour. Your friend Agent Hobbes did
as Logan asked. Would they try and rescue you instead of bargaining? Would they risk a war?" Jane
sounded scared, with good reason.

Alex chose to go with honesty. "Yeah, they would." She saw the woman frown, worry visible in her
eyes even with the room only dimly lit. "There is little chance Logan and his men will get what
they want. You must realize this." Jane's tight nod only confirmed to Alex that the woman had been
expecting something like this all along. "Is there someplace secure in the compound or, better yet,
outside it, where you can take the children?"

"I don't think...." She paused. "Maybe. Some of the kids have figured out a way to sneak out
through the perimeter security. We've covered for them as best we can; they deserve a chance to be
kids. I'm sure I can convince them to lead us all out."

"Good. You willing to help? To... to betray your husband and maybe end this with less bloodshed?"
If Jane was willing to give her the information and she could pass it on to Hobbes, they might just
get out of this in one piece.

"What do you need to know?" Jane said in a steady voice.

Anything for the children, Alex realized. "Weapons storage -- where and what types. Power center.
Guards. Everything you know."

Jane nodded. "Okay, here's what I know..."



The compound was slowly stirring. Dim lights turned on here and there. More people were moving
about, and there was an air of urgency about the place. By now they had to know Hobbes' message had
not been received the way they had hoped, though he was pretty sure they were more than prepared for
this eventuality. As he watched, activity increased around one of the more heavily constructed
buildings; he'd bet a month's pay that's where the weapons were stored. One more piece of data to
put away for later use. Thanks to his little tour of the compound earlier, he had also figured out
where the power center was. His plan, thin and weak as it was, required knowing the locations of
both places.

Over on the mattress, Darien grunted in pain and went onto another set of convulsions. Bobby knelt
beside him, wishing there was some way to help, to suffer through it for his partner -- hell, to
take the pain away completely. An impossibility, he knew, but still. Fawkes with the quicksilver
was one hell of an agent, as he had proved time and time again. Fawkes without was just... Fawkes.
Still his friend -- the ability to go see-thru had nothing to do with the more personal
relationship that had developed between them over the last eighteen months -- but not exactly top
agent material. That he had also proven.

He forced himself to focus on the situation at hand. Without his meds, his mind tended to wander a
bit randomly unless their was something demanding his attention, and right now Fawkes was. "Talk to
me, Fawkes."

"Get away from me," Darien snapped when he had control back. Damn, he was close, mere hours left,
or minutes if he were to use the quicksilver. That thought caught his attention. A few minutes and
it would be over. This fight for control, the pain, the god damned pointless worry and concern
would be gone and he'd be free.

"No can do, my friend. The door is still locked and Bobby Hobbes wants no part of being shot at.
Not yet." Even with the tension, the near anger he could feel radiating off of Fawkes along with
the fever he was now sporting, he still tried to get him more comfortable. To ease the lingering
pain the seizures always left behind, as well as that of his existing injuries.

"Yet?" This odd little feeling of joy within him sat up and took notice of that word. "I take it
there may be some action soon."

Hobbes grunted in response. "It looks like my messages were received loud and clear." Moving back
to the window, he heard the roar of another helicopter though this one did not fly directly
overhead. It was a good bet they were nothing but a distraction, to hopefully lead those here into
a certain pattern of thinking and to respond in a particular manner. So far, it appeared to be
working.

Hobbes continued watching for several minutes as more lights came on and more people began moving
about. Including a small group headed for their cell. When the door was throw open, Hobbes was not
surprised at all.

"Both of you come with me." It wasn't Logan, but was still obviously one of his team, maybe even
his X.O.

"On your feet," another voice barked at Darien.

"Right. With one leg. I think not," Darien replied with sarcasm.

Two others lowered their weapons, moved to Darien, and lifted him up. They were not gentle, and
Darien did his best to not scream aloud even though he desperately wanted to. He got angry instead.
"Son of a bitch. Let go of me." Balancing on his good leg, he shoved one away hard enough to knock
him into the sink.

"Fawkes, stop it." Hobbes moved in front of his partner, to get Fawkes to focus on him. There was
enough light to see that his eyes were that one step away from full madness. The veins were deeply
swollen, making him look like some special effect guru's mad creation. "Not now. You hear me,
Fawkes? Now is not the time for this." He barked this in his best drill sergeant voice and
succeeded in capturing Fawkes' attention. He saw evil cousin id back off and his partner reappear
for the time being.

"I hear you, Hobbes." Darien didn't feel the least bit guilty for shoving the guy away, would have
been quite content to see him smash into the metal sink head first, skull crushed and blood pooling
on the floor beneath him. But he knew he had to keep in control for now. Knew Bobby had some sort of
plan that he needed to be rational for. Or as rational as he could be, anyway.

"Good." Bobby moved to help support Fawkes, one arm wrapped securely about the larger man's waist.
He met the eyes of this group's leader, who appeared to suspect something unusual was going on, but
didn't argue with his helping Fawkes.

"Bring them."

Minutes later they were in a room, an office, near the communications center Hobbes had been in
earlier. It was just down the hall in fact. On the desk was a tape recorder. Logan was standing
behind the desk looking at a map mounted on the wall. He was deep in discussion with two other men,
but the slight turn of his head, the change in body posture, let Hobbes know he was aware of their
presence in he room.

With nearly identical nods the two turned away and left the room, leaving them alone with Logan.
"Sit, Agent Fawkes." He gestured at a chair off to one side of the room.

Hobbes didn't trust the guy, but knew Fawkes would be better off sitting right now and helped him
over to and then into the chair. Then he turned to face Logan.

"What did you tell them?" Logan didn't yell, didn't shout, didn't even seem angry, but it was
plain he was going to get answers one way or another.

Hobbes said nothing.

With a sigh, Logan reached into the desk and removed a baton, one of those collapsible metal ones
some riot squads used, and with a flick of his wrist had it extended and locked into place. "How
many hits do you think it will take to ruin his knee completely?"

Hobbes held his ground. No matter how much he didn't want Fawkes hurt, wanted to protect him, he
would not give in on this.

Logan nodded and set the baton down. The threat was still there, but it had been placed aside for
the moment. "Agent Hobbes, you cannot win this. We have more than enough armament to keep them away
for months. We know these woods. We have prepared for this eventuality for years. Whatever you told
them, whatever hints you dropped, you will correct." He picked up the tape recorder. "I've listened
to what you said a dozen times and, while I believe I've found most of your code phrases, they were,
shall we say, unique. I'll admit to being unable to ascertain your real meaning."

Darien snorted. "Try just talking to him on an average day -- it's worse." Unintentional as it was,
the derisive statement caught the attention of Logan.

"Really... Perhaps you'd be willing to explain some of the references to keep your partner from
being tortured. I noticed he has a bit of fear of heat. A few hot pokers making him scream might
convince you." Logan watched both men, but did not get the reactions he expected.

Darien got angry, very angry, and forced himself to his feet.

"Fawkes, back off," Hobbes shouted at him, hoping he was still in a frame of mind to listen.
"Now!" he ordered, and was thankful when Fawkes backed down. He settled back into the chair,
though he was not relaxed in the least.

"I have no control over what those down the mountain do. I did what you asked and passed your
message on exactly as you wanted. I kept my end of the deal, now let us go." Hobbes knew this
wouldn't work, but it was worth a try.

"You know I can't. You and your partners are the only thing holding them at bay." Logan snapped,
his frustration finally breaking past that cool exterior.

"No we're not," Darien said with a sick grin on his face. "In fact, letting them know we were here
probably convinced them to move sooner. They're gonna take you down. Every single one of you."

Logan looked from Darien to Hobbes, who could only nod in agreement. While the timing may have been
less than perfect, the statement was true enough. They, or more accurately Fawkes, was the main
reason this was going down so soon, and why those down the mountain were moving in on this
encampment instead of trying to deal. Now Hobbes just had to keep up his part of it, or things were
going to get real messy.

Logan slammed his fist into the desk and then picked up his radio and shouted into it. "Get me a
line to whoever is in charge of that circus."

A few seconds later the radio crackled and static-y words drifted out. "We've been trying, sir, but
they've apparently changed the encryption to one we do not have the code for. Repeat: we are no
longer able to monitor their communications."

Logan glared at Hobbes, knowing that he was responsible for the knowledge of their eavesdropping
getting out. "You are now worthless to me. Benkin!" he shouted, and seconds later the door opened.
"Escort them back to their cell."

"Yes sir." Benkin entered the room followed by three others, two of whom moved to Darien and made
it plain arguing this time would be bad.



Jane returned about an hour later with the items Alex had asked for. "Are you sure you want to do
this?"

"No choice. I can't walk like this." Alex met her eyes, seeing the concern, the worry the woman
had for her. "Help me keep that promise."

"All right." She removed the items she had secreted in various places about her body. Within
seconds she had the syringe filled and aspirated. Again she hesitated.

"Do it," Alex hissed. She knew this was going to be risky, but had few other options. She refused
to just sit here doing nothing, even if it meant risking her life. This was part of her job, her
life -- hell, part of *her*. And she had no plans to fail today.

Jane said nothing and simply stuck Alex with the needle, injecting the contents. Within moments,
Alex was feeling no pain. The morphine was doing its job. Jane moved away, hiding the vial and
syringe somewhere in the room, while Alex waited for the drug to hit fully. Focus was going to be a
problem, at least at first, though the pain she was going to be inflicting on herself by moving
would swiftly burn off the excess drug. She only hoped the balance would be struck in her favor, so
she'd be coherent and able to function instead of either doubling over in agony or so high she was
useless.

"They called off the guards who are usually roaming in the halls, though we probably still have
some outside." The woman was proving both her usefulness and her inherent strength. She held
Alex's upper arm in a firm grip as she got to her feet very carefully.

Alex was a little lightheaded, but not bad considering. She could feel the pain as a dull, distant
ache that was simple to ignore. "You got everyone ready?" she asked as Jane led her from the room.

"Yes, the kids are awake and just about ready to go. We... we'll drug the little ones if we need
to. It wouldn't be the first time." They made their way down the darkened hallway to a series of
interconnected rooms. The women here were hurriedly finishing dressing the smaller children.
Several were noticeably pregnant, and there were three infants Alex could see, as well as a round
dozen kids under the age of three. This was not going to be easy. Lily appeared then with a
sweater, heavy socks, and Alex's shoes, which she put on quickly.

"Who knows the way out?" Alex asked as she tied her boot.

Three children, two boys and a girl, all around ten, were escorted over to her. "She found it,
ma'am," one of the boys said, pointing at the girl.

"Oh, really." Alex turned to the girl, who had an excess of both red hair and energy. "Can the
adults fit through your escape route?"

"Yes'm. Easily. But why we going?" There was a hint of fear in her voice.

Alex debated how far to go, how honest to be with these children without scaring them into
immobility. "I think some of my friends are going to be coming to try and rescue you and there..."

"There's gonna be shooting, isn't there? The government is gonna kill all of us the way Logan kept
warning us. Gonna keep us from telling the truth." This was the other boy, a dark-haired lad who
had obviously taken the lessons he'd been taught to heart.

"Yes, there will be shooting, but no, they don't want to kill anyone here. Especially not you and
the other kids. I just want to make sure it stays that way." Alex looked over the kids' heads to
see Jane and Lily standing there.

"Nate, do you want to see Syd get hurt again? Have to rescue her from Zeke again?" Jane's voice
was tight, her arm wound protectively about the girl, and Alex was willing to bet that that she was
not only Jane's daughter, but this 'Syd' as well.

"No. You know that," Nate said defensively. "I promised to protect her, and I will."

"Then help us protect her. Protect all of you," Alex said softly. "Please."

Nate nodded. "Okay, we'll show you the way, but the guards will be real alert what with all the
copters flying over tonight."

Alex got to her feet and set a hand on his shoulder. "I'll deal with the guards." She met Jane's
eyes and she nodded. "Are they ready?"

"Five minutes." Jane looked over at Lily, who moved off towards the group to help get the few
stragglers ready. "I wasn't able to get any weapons. They watch us in the kitchen. Best I could do
was get a couple extra syringes and load them up with a strong sedative." When Alex raised her
eyebrows, she shrugged. "So I took advantage of him. It was worth it." She handed them over to
Alex, who carefully stuffed them up the sleeves of the sweater. She'd much prefer using the drugs
to fighting right now.

Within minutes, everyone was ready to go. With Lily and the three kids leading the way, the group
headed for a side entrance that backed up against the woods. The first obstacle was the guard
stationed outside the door. After being told the typical routine, she had Jane open the door and
leapt out at the guy. It was effective. He was so surprised to see her coming at him that he did
nothing more than turn about. She grabbed him, one hand going over his mouth, and yanked him down
even as she injected the contents the syringe into his neck. In seconds he slumped back against
her, unconscious. Having to inject Fawkes with the counteragent had had some use after all. She
lowered him to the ground and proceeded to remove every weapon she could find from him. The AK-47
he'd been armed with she kept for herself. The 9 mm Glock she handed over to Jane as she came up
beside her, somehow knowing the woman knew how to use it.

That's when gunfire broke out in some other part of the encampment.

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