Sacrifices (3/?)
By Carol M.
See prologue for details
Note: So this part gets very intense. It might even be a little hard to read for some. I guess that's sort of the point. As the writer, I wanted the reader to feel like they were in this room going through the same events and emotions as the characters. Hopefully, I did my job. On with the story…
Alex would have done anything for a pair of earplugs. She was doing her best to block out the whimpers and moans coming from Darien on the floor. She refused to look at his lanky, writhing figure for fear that it would somehow affect her. Affect her right in the heart.
Bobby wasn't having that problem. In fact, he had spent the past twenty minutes trying to coach his partner through the pain. "Deep breaths, Fawkesy, deep breaths. You can do it, buddy," he said in a supportive tone as he stared down at his partner on the floor.
Darien lay on his side in a tiny sweat-covered ball, his heart racing so fast from the pain that on more then one occasion he had turned invisible. His whole world seemed to be consumed by the pain. It felt like he was lying in a pit of flames. He could hear his partner yelling at him, but his mind was having a hard time deciphering his words. He thought he could make out the words deep breaths. "Deep breaths, deep breaths," he repeated in a hoarse tone. In and out, in and out.
"Like you're fighting the madness, Fawkes," said Bobby.
Okay, fighting the madness. He had to get in that zone. That calm zone where he could block everything out. He began taking intensely deep breaths, breathing so hard that he thought he might pass out. Hmmm, passing out. That wouldn't be such a bad idea right about now.
Trey was watching all of this from his chair, his eyes observing the faces of all of his hostages. They were good; he would give them that. So far there was nothing in Bobby, Alex or the Official's expressions that said they would give up the code. He saw sorrow and guilt, but nothing to indicate they would break. It was time for a little incentive.
"Well, I think it's time for the next injection," said Trey as he reached for the black case and pulled out another vial of the purple liquid. He located the syringe and quickly filled it up.
Claire's eyes glistened with tears. "Please don't. Please don't hurt him anywhere," she said in the calmest voice possible.
Trey smiled and stepped to Darien with the syringe in his hand. "I'm not the one you should be saying that to, Ms. Keeply." He nodded towards the others. "They have the power to make this stop, not me," he said as he knelt down next to Darien.
Darien could feel Trey's presence looming over him and he quickly determined that it was not a good thing. He tried unsuccessfully to pick himself off the floor to get away, but his limbs refused to cooperate.
"Just another shot, Mr. Fawkes. Don't mind me," said Trey as he firmly grasped Darien's arm and pulled him up so his neck was exposed. He put the needle in Darien's neck and injected him with the contents. When he was done, he pushed Darien back to the floor and returned to his chair. "This next stage involves a feeling of pain and paralysis to the limbs. Your arms and legs will ache intensely and you will not be able to move for about twenty minutes. Don't panic, it's not permanent."
But panic is exactly what Darien did. For several seconds after the injection, the pain from his skin disappeared, leaving him blissfully free from the agony. Then an intense stabbing sensation seemed to build in his arms and legs. He tried to curl into a tiny ball, but realized that he couldn't move. His breath started coming in short pants and his heart began to race even faster. He quickly lost control of the gland and soon quicksilver was coating his entire body.
"Darien!" shouted Claire, trying unsuccessfully to mask her anger and worry.
Everyone in the room could hear his pain-filled pants, but they couldn't actually see him, which somehow made the whole experience even harder.
Eberts glanced at the Official, a look of horror on his face. "Sir?" he said. "Perhaps one of you should give up the code."
The Official scowled at Eberts. "We will do no such thing. It's just pain. Fawkes will survive," he said in a cold tone. He would be damned if he would admit that the sounds of Darien's pain-filled whimpers had left him with a cold ache in his stomach that he knew would not be going away anytime soon.
"He might not survive, sir," said Claire in a firm voice. "His heart won't be able to take this for much longer."
Their heads all snapped to the floor in horror as they heard Darien let out a gut wrenching sob.
Claire looked at Trey with a look of hatred gleaming from her eyes. "Uncuff me," she said simply.
Bobby and Alex both gave her a look of surprise.
"Why?" asked Trey, slightly intrigued.
"Because he shouldn't have to go through this alone," said Claire, tears trickling down her cheeks. "If I knew the code, you would have had it five seconds after the first injection."
"Very well," said Trey as he motioned to one of his men to uncuff her. Vore stepped forward and pulled out a key, which he used to remove Claire's cuffs.
As soon as she was free, Claire rubbed her wrists and knelt down on the floor, feeling for Darien. "Darien, I need you to come back. Come on, relax sweetheart, it'll be okay," she said as her hand finally found his chest.
Darien willed himself to take deep breaths and calm down. The quicksilver was shed several seconds later.
Claire wasted no time in gathering him in her arms. She leaned his head against her shoulder and began running a comforting hand through his hair. "I know you can't move right now. That's to be expected, Darien. You're not paralyzed," she said soothingly as she put her head down against his shoulder. "Do you trust me?"
Darien clenched his eyes shut, trying to deal with the pain. He nodded his head up and down slowly, tears dripping down from under his eyelids. "Yeah," he whispered after several seconds.
"I'm going to get you through this, I promise. I won't let you die," she said softly. "Unlike them," she added as she gave Bobby, Alex and the Official an angry glance.
Bobby sighed, fighting his own tears. "Damn it, Keep, that's not fair!" he yelled.
Claire gave him a cold glance. "Oh it seems perfectly fair to me. Your partner needs your help and you're failing him," she said as she grasped Darien's form even tighter.
"I'm sorry," he said softly as he lost the battle with his emotions. Tears started to run silently down his cheeks.
"Claire…" said Alex, who was also trying to keep her emotions in check.
Claire shook her head. "Don't even bother, Alex. He deserves better from you. Hell, from all of you," she said, giving the Official a look of venom.
The Official sighed harshly. "Doctor, there are millions of people that could be affected by the names on that disk. I know you live in a fantasy world where everyone goes home happy at the end of the day, but that's not the way the world works. Sometimes innocent people have to die for the greater good," he said.
"Where does it end, sir? Are you willing to risk all of our lives for that disk? When Darien dies and they start executing us all one by one, will it all have been worth it?" yelled Claire in anger.
"You're a doctor. Do your job and butt out of mine," replied the Official sharply.
Trey, who had been watching and listening intently, began clapping his hands. "That was some powerful television right there," he said as he stood up and began walking around the room. "You all put up a good front," he said as he glanced at Bobby and Alex and then the Official, "but in the end, I don't think you can let him die," he said, motioning to Darien's shivering form.
"Oh we can and we will, son. You have greatly underestimated my abilities and that of my agents," said the Official.
"So let me get this straight. You're willing to risk your most valuable agent for that disk? Is that what you're telling me?" said Trey.
"Yes, that's right. He works for the government. His job is to protect the safety and security of the citizens of this country. If he has die so that others can live, so be it," said the Official.
Trey stepped in front of the Official and stared him down. "You're very good at your job, sir," he said coldly. "But I'm better at mine," he said as he swiftly walked away and grabbed the black case. He pulled out another vial and filled the syringe. "Time for round three," he said as he walked to Darien and Claire.
Claire climbed on top of Darien and tried to shield his body with her own. "No! Bloody hell, I won't let you do this, you son of bitch!" she screamed.
Trey rolled his eyes. "This is touching, really, but I just don't have the time," he said as he motioned to his men. Vore and Hart stepped forward and effortlessly pulled a struggling Claire off of Darien.
"Damn you!" she screamed as Trey once again injected the contents from the syringe into Darien's neck.
The men dropped Claire roughly on the floor when Trey was done injecting Darien. She quickly crawled back to Darien and took him in her arms.
Darien relaxed into her arms, feeling somewhat safe and protected. He experimentally wiggled his arm and nearly cried out in relief when he found he could move it. The relief was short-lived however as an excruciating pain tore through his stomach. He screamed in agony and curled up further into her arms.
"What is it? What hurts?" she asked with concern.
"My stomach," he hoarsed out. Without warning, a wave of intense nausea rolled through his body. He gagged and vomited all over the floor and Claire's legs. "I'm sorry," he murmured in misery a few seconds later when he got his breath back.
Claire scooted them away from the vomit and brought Darien into a tight hug, resting her head on top of his own. "Don't you dare apologize, Darien. This isn't your fault," she whispered into his ear. She removed one of her shoes and used it to wipe the vomit off of her pants before the smell sent her own upchuck reflex into action. When she was done, she set down the shoe and turned her attention back to Darien.
She felt him begin to shake in her arms and she realized that he was crying. She held him as he slowly broke down, sobbing against her chest like a small child. She began rocking him back and forth in her arms, trying to do something to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Darien, I'm so sorry," she whispered soothingly into his ear.
A huge lump formed in the throat of Alex as she watched the exchange between Darien and Claire. Claire was right; he didn't deserve this. But no matter how much he was hurting, she couldn't bring herself to give up the code and risk the lives of millions.
Eberts and the Official were looking away, trying not to absorb the scene playing out before their eyes. Eberts bit down on his lower lip to keep from sobbing. He quickly concluded that if he knew the code, he would be spilling it right about now. Which was probably the reason he didn't know it, he guessed.
Bobby stared at his partner being held protectively by Claire on the floor, wanting to do something, anything to help him. "Darien," he said, his voice cracking. "Are you okay, partner?" he asked.
Claire's head shot up. "No, he's not okay, Bobby," she said.
At that moment, another intense pain shot through Darien's midsection. He screamed in pain and convulsed violently causing Claire to lose her tight grip on him. He ended up face first on the floor.
"It's okay, it's okay," whispered Claire as she firmly grasped his hand in her own. She began rubbing soothing patterns on Darien's quaking back with her other hand. She looked up at Bobby with her own version of puppy dog eyes. "Give them the code, Bobby. Please give them the code!" she begged.
"No!" yelled Darien in a pain-filled gasp. "Don't do it, Hobbes. Don't do it, buddy. I'm not worth it!"
Bobby started to sob. "Damn you, you're worth it. I would cut off my leg for you, partner. I would take your place in a heartbeat if I could, you know that. I love you man," he cried.
"Then give them the code!" screamed Claire. "Give them the code and this can end!"
Bobby shook his head. " I wish I could Claire, but I can't," was all he said.
Claire looked at Alex. "Alex? Please…think of your son. Think of him being tortured like this. Think of it. Could you let it continue like this?"
Alex finally broke and began crying. "Stop it!" she said harshly.
"Your son is down on some cold floor, bleeding and crying, moaning in pain. If you had the power to stop it, would you do it? Or would you let him lay there and suffer for the good of his country?" she screamed.
"Stop!" sobbed Alex.
"You're all cowards," yelled Claire. "You're supposed to protect people. Why don't you start with protecting one of your own!"
Bobby and Alex sat silently, tears streaming down their faces.
Claire glared at the Official. "And you. You heartless bastard. You don't even care about him."
The Official shook his head sadly. "It's not personal Claire, you know that."
"Tell that to him," said Claire as she pointed at Darien's moaning form. "A few more injections and he'll be dead. What then, huh?"
The Official was silent.
Claire turned back to Darien, taking deep breaths to calm her raging emotions down.
Trey stood up from his seat and pulled out his gun. "Thank you Ms. Keeply for doing my job for me. I think you almost had Mr. Hobbes and Ms. Monroe convinced for awhile there," he said. He stepped over to Darien and Claire and roughly pushed the doctor out of the way. He picked up Darien and forced him into a standing position. Darien sagged against him, his body wracked with tremors of pain.
"No," cried out Claire as she tried to pull Darien back to her. She was rewarded with a swift push back to the floor.
Trey placed the gun to the back of Darien's head, right against the area where the gland was located. "I think the way to convince ole Charlie is to hit him right in the purse strings. No gland, means no Agency."
The Official shuddered. "You're bluffing," he said in an icy tone.
"Try me," said Trey as he cocked the gun against Darien's head.
TBC (yeah I'm evil, but then again, you already knew that!)