Sacrifices (1/?)
By Carol M.
See prologue for details
Two months later
It was a lone black van sitting two blocks away from the Agency. There were eight men crammed into the small space of the van, sharing air and body odor. They were all dressed in identical black shirts and pants, all holding the same gun and all wearing thermal glasses.
The head of the group, a tall black-haired man with intense green eyes, sat in the front seat humming softly to himself. He glanced down at his watch and then turned around to look at his men. "We go in thirty, guys. The place should be fully occupied by then," he said. He turned back around and stared at the small television screen sitting on the passenger's seat. The picture on the screen flipped back and forth between the hallways of the Agency, the Keep, the Official's office and the elevators.
It was easy to get cameras into a location when you were the person in charge of installing new security measures for the Harding Building. In fact, it was amazing the things you could learn just by eavesdropping on bits of conversations in the halls of the Agency. Trey Thornton knew everything there was to know about the Agency in a little over a month. He knew exactly what had to be done to get what he wanted.
Trey leaned over the passenger's seat and reached underneath it, pulling out a small briefcase. He opened the briefcase and smiled slightly as he looked at the ten vials of a purple liquid neatly tucked into the black case. He reached further under the seat and pulled out a black bag filled with tazers, billy clubs, timers, wires and bits of plastique. Everything he needed. He glanced at his watch. 10:35. Only 25 more minutes to go.
**
"I'm telling you man, it doesn't matter anymore," said Darien as he and Bobby entered the front doors of the Agency.
"What do you mean it doesn't matter? How can it not matter?" asked Bobby with confusion. He walked next to Darien down the hall, heading towards the elevator. "Oh what, so you're going to tell me now that you don't care?"
Darien smiled and nodded his head. "Yep."
"You're nuts, Fawkes. Absolutely cuckoo," said Bobby.
"Not any more, my friend," said Darien as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.
Bobby eyed him suspiciously. "What are you hiding from me?"
Darien gave him a look of innocence. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Bobby shook his head. "No, no, don't give me that, okay. Something happened, so you need to spill it. I'm your partner, I'm supposed to know these things," said Bobby matter of factly.
Darien stopped walking and braced both his hands on Bobby's shoulders. "Hobbesy, it's nothing okay. I've gotta go see the Keep," he said, stepping away from Bobby.
Bobby sighed. "Come on, man that's not right. As your partner and best friend, I think I have the right to know."
Darien turned around and gave him a sly grin. "Let's just say I've got some control."
Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Control?" He stared at Darien for a few minutes and then a wry look of amusement spread across his face. "Well it's about time partner. Took you long enough. So who's going to be the first lucky lady to take you out for a test drive."
Darien glanced at his watch. "Well, we do have fifteen minutes 'til the meeting. I suppose that gives Claire and I enough time," he said, trailing off in a teasing tone.
"You wouldn't," said Bobby, his face raging in jealousy.
Darien shrugged. "I don't know, man. She is pretty sexy and she's always giving me these lustful looks. Maybe we should take our relationship to the next level."
"Do it and die, my friend," interrupted Bobby.
Darien smiled. "I'm kidding, buddy. You know that. Now go. I'll see ya in a bit," he said. He turned the corner and started walking towards the metal door of the Keep.
"Yeah, yeah you better be kidding, my friend or Bobby Hobbes will come and kick you in the old cojones. Then it won't matter if you've got control or not," he yelled down the hall in a threatening tone as he stepped into the elevator. He rolled his eyes in annoyance as the elevator doors shut in front of him.
Darien laughed slightly and fished around in his pocket for his keycard to the Keep. He finally found it and swiped it through the slot of the Keep door, causing the heavy piece of metal to swish open. He saw Claire sitting at her desk working at her computer. "Hello, Ms. Keeply. How are you this fine Monday?" asked Darien as he sauntered over to the counteragent chair.
"Wow," said Claire as she glanced at Darien's happy face. "What happened to you?" she asked as she got up from the chair and walked over to the counteragent chair.
Darien flushed slightly. "Well, let's just say I might be able to have my way with the ladies again. Civilian ladies," he pointed out.
A brief look of jealousy clouded Claire's features, followed quickly by a bright smile. "Congratulations, Darien. I'm very happy for you," she said as she began rooting around in the top drawer of a cabinet next to the counteragent chair.
"Thank you, thank you very much," said Darien as he took a deep breath and settled back into the chair.
Claire stepped beside him, holding a huge needle. "Which arm would you like me to use?"
Darien glanced down at both of his arms, smiling at the lack of track marks that for almost two years had marred the crooks of both his elbows. "The right I guess. Just don't take too much. Blood loss makes me woozy."
Claire nodded and then tied the familiar rubber strap around his right arm over the crook of his elbow. She eyed a vein and expertly slid the needle in, pulling the plunger up to suck his blood into the vial.
Darien hissed and turned away, not wanting to look at the blood being drained from his body.
After a few minutes, Claire carefully removed the needle and undid the strap around Darien's bicep. She took the vial of blood over to her microscope and poured a tiny amount on a slide. Then she sat down and began peering intently at the sample.
Darien remained in the chair, wiping a cotton ball over the puncture mark from the needle. He watched Claire as she studied his blood, noting the casual pair of jeans and red shirt covering her frame. He looked down at his own casual wardrobe, which consisted of a tight-fitting gray T-shirt and khaki pants. Ever since they had all come back to the Agency, things had been much more relaxed and fun. Darien couldn't have been happier.
Claire poked her head up from the microscope and looked at Darien. "Well, you're blood is showing an extremely high level of quicksilver in your body. I want to keep track of the amounts in your blood to make sure there aren't any side effects. If there are, we might be able to use the counteragent to flush out some of the excess quicksilver."
"Shots again?" asked Darien, crinkling his forehead in slight fear.
"Not necessarily. We don't really know how these levels of quicksilver are going to effect your body in the long run. There might be no effect. It's just something to keep an eye on, that's all," said Claire in a gentle tone.
"Yeah well, if we can help it, I would prefer not returning to my status as a human pin cushion," he said sarcastically.
Claire smiled and looked back down into the microscope.
Darien was about to ask her about her weekend when he heard the sound of gunfire coming from outside. "What the hell was that?" he asked as he got off the chair and headed towards the door.
Claire looked up from her microscope with a look of horror on her face. She dashed towards one of her cabinets and pulled out a gun. She began searching through the drawer for bullets, but came up empty. "Darien, what's going on?" she whispered tensely.
Darien shrugged in confusion as he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the Keep door. Darien stuck out his hand and let the quicksilver flow onto the metal door, effectively turning it invisible. They saw a group of armed men wearing thermals and carrying explosive devices heading straight for the Keep.
"We know you're in there," said one of the men as he saw Darien through the door. Darien quickly let the quicksilver drop from the door.
Claire eyed Darien in a panic. "Bloody hell! What do we do?" she asked.
Before he had time to answer, the Keep door was blown apart by a small explosion. The force of the blast sent both Darien and Claire roughly to the ground. Darien whacked his head on a desk and was instantly knocked out.
Claire received a blow as well, but didn't lose consciousness. She coughed as the smoke from the blast invaded her lungs and made her eyes water. She could make out the blurry images of the terrorists entering the Keep. She glanced up at one of the men in a daze as he picked her off the floor and dragged her out the door. She looked down at the end of the hallway and saw the bodies of Jack and Clay, two of the Agency's security guards, laying in a bloody pool by the door.
As she was slowly dragged down the hall, Claire's head started to clear and she realized what was happening. She began to struggle wildly in the arms of her captor. "Darien," she cried out, looking back at the man dragging Darien's limp form down the hall. "Stop it, you bastards," she cried as she clamped down on the hand of the man holding her and bit his finger.
He cried out and slapped her across the face. "Don't do that again, bitch."
Trey, who was leading the group down the hall, turned around with a smile on his face. "Let's go upstairs and meet the rest of your friends, shall we Miss Keeply."
Claire's response was a fear-filled moan.
**
"Hobbes, what the hell is that?" asked Alex as she heard the sounds of gunfire coming from downstairs. She and Bobby had been heading to the Official's office when the explosions and gunfire had started.
"That's bad news, Monroe," said Bobby as he pulled out his gun. Alex did the same and followed Bobby towards the Official's office. They slammed through the door with their guns drawn. "Sir, I think we're being taken over," yelled Bobby as he saw the Official and Eberts inhaling Chinese food.
The Official glanced up from his lunch with a look of panic on his face. "Where's Fawkes?"
"Downstairs, chief, with the Keep," answered Bobby.
"Get them, get them now," said the Official as he picked up the phone. His face paled when he didn't get a dial tone. "It's dead."
"Come on, Monroe," said Bobby as he dashed out the door. "Lock the door, sir," Bobby yelled over his shoulder. Alex quickly followed.
"Sir, what's going on?" asked Eberts as he ran to the door and locked it.
The Official sighed and stared at Eberts with a look of fear on his face. "Terrorist retrieval," he said as he reached into his desk and pulled out a gun.
Meanwhile, Bobby and Alex were standing outside the elevator, watching as the numbers above the doors moved up from the first floor. They each stood on a side, their guns ready to fire. "Watch out, they might have Fawkes or Claire," said Bobby. Alex nodded and took a deep breath.
The elevator beeped and they both tensed waiting for the door to open. When it finally did, Bobby swung around and aimed his gun into the elevator. "Freeze," he yelled.
He was greeted with the sight of Trey holding a gun to the head of his barely conscious partner. "Drop it now," said the man in a cool tone.
Bobby did what he was told and dropped his weapon, eyeing his partner with concern.
Alex ducked back and waited for the man to walk out of the elevator. When he did, she came up behind him and was about to hit him over the head with her gun when a shock of pain tore through her back. As she fell to the ground she saw that her attacker had been hiding on top of the elevator. Another man jumped down from the top, aiming a tazer at Bobby's neck. She tried to call out a warning, but lacked the strength. Bobby screamed in pain and fell next to her on the ground.
Bobby and Alex felt themselves being dragged down the hall towards the Official's office, but were enable to move due to the effect of the stun guns. They saw the stairwell door open, revealing a terrorist holding a kicking and screaming Claire. Several other mooks followed behind them with their guns drawn and ready to fire.
The coworkers were all roughly dragged to the door of the Official's office. Trey dropped Darien to the floor and tried the doorknob. When he couldn't open it, he took out his gun and blew away the glass. Then he picked up Darien and pushed him through the door.
The Official and Eberts both stared in shock as Darien's body crash landed on the floor amongst a sea of broken glass. The gun dropped from the Official's hand as Bobby, Alex and Claire were dragged into the office by the heavily armed terrorists. The men went about handcuffing Bobby, Alex and Claire into chairs.
Darien, who was beginning to regain consciousness, was picked off the floor and handcuffed into a chair as well. Another one of the men stepped to Eberts and roughly sat him down in a chair, cuffing his hands behind his back. Eberts glanced at the Official with a look of terror.
Rage surged through the Official's veins as he too was handcuffed. "What do you want?" he asked, eyeing Trey.
Trey nodded towards the seal behind the Official. "I think you know what I want 'fish."
TBC