Sacrifices (6/?)
By Carol M.
See prologue for details
Note: Keep on truckin', kiddies. I-man might be gone for now, but Fawkesy and Hobbesy live on! Enjoy the next part! More on Sunday.
"Hobbes, take it easy!" yelled Alex in anger as she watched Bobby raise a hand to punch one of his Hobbesnet informants. The kid couldn't have been any older than 20 and his eyes projected a complete and total fear of a pissed off Bobby Hobbes.
"You know something, I know you do. Just remember who got your drug violation reduced, my friend, remember that, punk?" yelled Bobby. He grabbed the kid by the collar and bashed him against the brick wall of the kid's crappy apartment. "Your ass would be in jail right now if it weren't for my divine intervention. I'm sure the ole' boys would love a sweet young thing like you!"
The kid started to sob uncontrollably. "Look man, I already told you, I don't know nothing! I'm just working at the plant, trying to get my life back on track, that's all, dude!" he cried.
Alex stepped behind Bobby and put her hand on his shoulder. Bobby swung around wildly and brought up his fist to hit the offender touching his shoulder. "Whoa, Hobbes…Bobby, it's me, it's just me," said Alex in surprise.
Bobby's gaze softened and his hand lowered back down to his side. "Sorry," he whispered. He had completely forgotten she was there. He shook his head and glanced back at the kid. "Give me a name, or your history, pal," said Bobby in a menacing tone.
The kid wiped at his face and tried to catch his breath. "Chazz Buckley," he responded.
"Is he a buddy of yours?" asked Bobby as he put an arm around the kid.
The kid nodded. "Yeah, man. That dude knows everything going down in this city."
Alex cleared her throat and looked at the kid. "Where can we find this guy?"
"Corner store on 7th and Main. He hangs out back," said the kid.
Bobby let the kid go and put his finger up menacingly. "If I find out your lying, I'll come back here and have you busted back into jail so fast you won't know the inmates from the prison guards."
Alex grabbed at Bobby's arm and pulled him towards the door. "Hobbes, let's go."
Bobby looked back at the kid and pointed his finger once again. "I'll be watching you, my friend. Remember that."
The kid nodded and then sank down to the floor in relief.
Alex dragged Bobby out of the apartment and led him down the stairwell that would take them back to the street. Bobby dragged his feet and looked at the ground as they walked.
When they got to the car, Alex quickly got in the driver's seat of the Corvette and Bobby sank down in the passenger's seat. Alex was about to start the car when Bobby abruptly stopped her. "I'm sorry, Monroe, I was out of line back there," said Bobby sincerely.
A small smiled crept on Alex's face. "What good's a partner if you can't slug them every once in awhile," she said teasingly.
A cloud formed on Bobby's face and Alex instantly knew she had said the wrong thing. "I know I'm not your partner. But for now, just pretend like I am."
Bobby snorted softly and then smiled. "You sure you want to be my partner, partner?" he asked.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," said Alex as she put the key in the ignition and started the car. "Now come on, let's go find Mr. Buckley."
Bobby nodded and relaxed into the seat.
Alex pulled out onto the street and took a left at the first stop light, heading towards Main Street.
"We've gotta get this guy, Monroe," said Bobby suddenly.
Alex nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure the government would appreciate getting their top secret disk back."
"Not just for the disk, Alex. For Fawkes," said Bobby.
Alex glanced over at him with a confident expression on her face. "As Bobby Hobbes would say, no worries, my friend."
Bobby's face broke out into a full-blown smile. "You've got some nerve there, Monroe. Mocking me like that when my emotions are on the fritz."
"Somebody's got to keep you in line," said Alex as she drove on.
Bobby was about to respond with a witty comment when his cell phone started to ring. He reached into his jacket and quickly answered. "Hobbes…Keep…oh god, he's dead isn't he?" said Bobby with worry.
Alex eyed him in fear. "Is Darien okay?"
"What?" said Bobby into the phone. He let out a huge sigh of relief. "Oh thank god…oh thank god," he said as he covered the phone with his hand and glanced at Monroe. "Fawkes is gonna make it."
Alex smiled. "I told you," she said happily.
Bobby uncovered the phone. "Take care of him, Claire. Monroe and I are going after Thornton. Yeah… you too…bye." Bobby hung up the phone and let out a long sigh of relief. "He's alive. He's bad, but he's alive. Keep said he should be okay in a month or two."
"Feel better now?" asked Alex as she pulled onto Main Street.
Bobby thought for a moment and shook his head. "No, not even close," he said finally.
Alex nodded. "Me neither."
**
Claire put the phone back in the cradle and glanced at Darien. He looked like he was finally coming around. She could see his eyes moving under his lids and his body twitched every couple of seconds. She dashed to his side and sat back down in her chair. "Darien, open your eyes for me," she said encouragingly.
Her response was a muffled groan.
"Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes," said Claire.
Darien's eyelids started to flutter rapidly and after a few seconds, a pair of tired looking brown eyes were glancing up at her. Darien tried to sit up but found that he could barely move. "Easy, easy," said Claire as she pressed a firm hand against her chest. "You're going to be okay, Darien. I'm using the counteragent as a way to flush the drug out of your system. You're probably going to be in pain for a few more days until the drug is completely gone from your blood."
As if on cue, Darien started to whimper. He frantically pointed at his legs. "Ouchie, ouchie," he moaned as the pain in his legs flared up to an almost unbearable level.
Claire clutched Darien's shoulders and held him while he started to shake with the pain. "It's okay, it's okay. I think I'm going to give you another shot of the counteragent."
Darien's head started to shake back and forth violently. "No more shots," he hoarsed out.
Claire sighed. "Darien, I have to, it's the only thing making you better. It might even help with the pain," she said as she reached for a syringe that she had already filled with counteragent.
"How many?" whispered Darien.
"A miniscule dose every two hours," said Claire sympathetically.
Darien glanced at his arms and winced as another pain shot through his leg. "Well, I guess I'm going to be getting my track marks back," he gasped.
"Easy, Darien," she said as she began rubbing his leg for lack of anything better to do. "A shot every two hours for two days. Then it'll be over. The drug should be out of your system by the end of the week and you'll be on the road to recovery."
"Great," he whispered sarcastically. He looked up at her and then looked at the needle. "Stick me."
Claire nodded her head and picked up the needle. She wiped the crook of his elbow with an alcohol wipe and then glanced up at Darien's fear-filled eyes. "Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."
Darien nodded hesitantly, but couldn't stop his body from shaking in fear.
Claire ignored the small tremors and carefully inserted the needle into his vein, pressing down on the plunger and releasing the counteragent into his system. His reaction was not as violent as before. He arched up and then fell back against the chair, passing out. About a minute later, he woke up again.
Claire pointed to his legs. "Any better?" she asked.
Darien thought for a minute and then nodded. "Yeah," he whispered.
"Good," said Claire with a smile. "How about we move you into a bed?" she suggested.
Darien shook his head. "I want to go home. I don't want to be here," he answered.
"Two days, Darien. Let me give you the injections and then I promise, you can go home on one condition," said Claire.
Darien weakly raised his eyebrow. "What's that?"
"I'm staying with you," she said firmly.
"You mean like, living with me?" he asked curiously.
"Yes," said Claire. "Just for the next couple of weeks. Believe me, Darien, you're going to need somebody with you. Once this drug leaves your system, your body is going to be completely worn out."
A small smile crept on Darien's face. "You know Keep, if you really wanted to stay with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to go to all this trouble."
Claire laughed. "I'm glad to see your sense of humor has returned."
"Yeah well, give me a few days. I'm sure it'll be leaving pretty quick," said Darien as he struggled to look around the lab. "How's Hobbes? Was he down here when I was out before?"
Claire shook her head. "Bobby and Alex are trying to track down Thornton and get the disk back on the Official's orders."
A slight look of hurt washed over Darien's face. "Oh," he said softly.
"Hey," said Claire as she reached under Darien's chin. "I'm sure Bobby will come and see you once he and Alex get Thornton."
Darien nodded. "Yeah."
Claire gave him a look of concern. "Darien, maybe we should talk about what happened."
Darien shook his head. "No, it's cool, I'm fine," he said curtly. "You were saying something about a…owwww," Darien yelped as a brief flash of pain tore through his stomach, "bed," he gasped out.
"Yeah. We'll move you into Lab Two," said Claire sympathetically as she reached for her phone. She quickly took it off the cradle and dialed. "Eberts, this is Claire. Can you come down for a moment and help me get Darien into Lab Two?"
Darien struggled to sit up. "I can walk," he said as he tried to plant his feet on the ground. Unfortunately, the world seemed to start spinning at that moment and Darien had to close his eyes against the vertigo. "Aw crap," he whispered as he felt his stomach rumble.
"Eberts, now, please," yelled Claire into the phone. She quickly hung up and ran to Darien. "What, what's wrong?" she asked with worry.
"I'm gonna be…" Darien threw up before he could finish the sentence, nailing both of Claire's shoes. "Oh god," he murmured a few seconds later. He glanced down at her shoes and then shot her the puppy dog eyes. "I'm so sorry," he whispered apologetically.
Claire kicked her shoes off with her feet and then helped Darien lay back against the counteragent chair. "It's okay, Darien, you're sick, you can't help it," she said in understanding.
She went to the sink for a moment and returned to his side with a wet paper towel. She began wiping off the sweat that was glistening on his face.
"Thanks," he murmured. "When all of this is over, I'm going to buy you a whole new wardrobe."
Claire smiled. "You're lucky I have fairly strong stomach, otherwise I would be puking all over you."
"Believe me, I wouldn't blame you," said Darien.
"Is everything all right?" asked Eberts as he dashed into the Keep. He eyed the vomit on the floor for a moment and then glanced up at Darien.
"Yes, Eberts, Darien just got sick. Can you help me move him into the other lab?" said Claire.
"Of course, doctor," said Eberts.
"There's a stretcher in storage. Go get it and then we can transfer him," said Claire.
Eberts nodded and walked back out the door.
Claire turned back to Darien. "We'll get you settled and then you can sleep for awhile," she said as she ran a hand through his hair.
"Sounds like a plan," said Darien.
"Maybe later you can try and eat something," said Claire.
Darien glanced at the vomit on the floor and shook his head. "Don't think that's going to be happening anytime soon there, Claire."
Claire smiled and looked up as Eberts returned with the stretcher. He rolled the stretcher so it was adjacent to the counteragent chair. "Okay, I'll get his legs, you get his arms," said Claire to Eberts.
They both got into position and carefully lifted Darien's lanky body onto the stretcher. Then Claire and Eberts both pushed the stretcher through the Keep, out in the hallway and into Lab Two. By the time they reached the bed, Darien was on the verge of falling asleep.
"Okay, on 3…1…2…3," said Claire. She and Eberts once again lifted Darien and transferred him into the bed. Claire pulled the sheets out from under him and wrapped them over his body. "I'll wake you in two hours, Darien."
"'Kay," murmured Darien. Within seconds, he was fast asleep.
**
"Well if it isn't Chazz in the flesh," said Bobby as he eyed a lanky red-haired man in his late twenties. He was smoking a cigarette in the back alley of the Central convenience store.
Chazz eyed Bobby suspiciously and then his gaze drifted to Alex, who was standing behind Bobby. "You cops or something?" he asked.
"Or something," said Alex sarcastically.
"What do you want?" asked Chazz.
Bobby took out his gun and cocked it. "A little info."
Chazz swallowed hard and eyed the gun. "What kind of info?"
Alex raised an eyebrow. "A little info about a disk and the men who stole it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Chazz.
"Well my .35 caliber colt says differently," said Bobby as he tore the cigarette out of Chazz's hand and pushed him against the brick wall of the alley. He put the gun to Chazz's head. "Remember now?"
Chazz nodded. "Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that."
"Like what?" asked Alex as she stepped beside him.
"My friend Vore, he's been bragging for weeks about some fancy smancy heist involving some top secret government disk. Said he was going to be a millionaire," said Chazz.
Bobby pressed the gun harder against Chazz's head. "And?" he said roughly.
"And…and…he told me about some deal. Supposed to go down tonight at some abandoned airport hanger," said Chazz.
"Which one?" asked Bobby.
Chazz closed his eyes.
"Which one?" yelled Bobby in anger.
"Seagull Air, it's just outside of town," screamed Chazz in fear.
Bobby took the gun away from his head and patted him on the shoulder. "See. That wasn't so tough, my friend."
Chazz let out a sigh of relief and sagged against the wall.
Bobby turned his head to look at Alex. "Seagull Air, my dear?"
Alex smiled and waved her hand towards her car. "After you, Mr. Hobbes."
The pair quickly got back to the car and sped off, leaving a long, smoking skid mark in their tracks.
TBC