On Opposite Sides
By Barbara
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. I wish they were, but they belong to someone else.
***********************
Atlanta
The factory sat forlorn on the side road. No one had come here in years- or at least it presented that appearance to outsiders. Knee high grass and weeds surrounded the buildings, with weeds forcing their way through the asphalt to decorate the parking lots with sprays of green. To all outward appearances, the building was now seeing its first visitors in years. But in actuality these visitors were present because of others- people living in the building for the past two years- people the Volunteers were here to capture.
Despite the deaths of twenty Resistance leaders and the capture of several more in an ambush less than two months ago, the Resistance was nowhere near destroyed. A large part of that was due to the defiant nature of the captured Resistance members. They had all remained silent during interrogation, and after a few days, they had all committed suicide using carefully concealed drugs.
And so with no information available from interrogations, the Volunteers had had to track down the bases using more conventional techniques- techniques that often only yielded a possible address. Bases like this were common throughout the world. In all likelihood, this wasn't even the only base in Atlanta, but it was the only one they knew of. Most major cities seemed to have at least three.
Troops now surrounded the building preventing any escape from the visible entrances. Less than an hour earlier, the air had been filled with the sound of gunfire, as the Volunteers tried to gain entrance to what was in reality a well-hidden Resistance base. Even now, with the sound of gunfire absent for over thirty minutes, the Volunteers did not relax their vigilance- partly due to the prisoners now under care in a carefully cordoned area, and partly due to the presence of the head of the Volunteers- Companion Protector Ronald Sandoval.
Sandoval looked around the factory interior in silent satisfaction. It had been a fierce battle with the Resistance, but they had won. The Resistance hadn't managed to destroy the building and hence any traces of their identities. At previous Resistance bases, the buildings had been destroyed after the Resistance had evacuated to prevent the Volunteers from learning anything about their adversaries or their plans. Fingerprinting had led to more than one capture before the Resistance had wised up to the Volunteers methods and started destroying their bases. The ambush two months ago, an ambush Agent Sandoval had not participated in due to an unexpected hospital visit which resulted in his discovery of an unknown son, had only made the Resistance more careful about protecting their identities.
This time the Volunteers had managed to find and defuse most of the explosives before they could be used. Part of the building had collapsed, but the main portion was intact. Volunteers with scanning equipment were already moving through the building, looking for any biochemical or DNA signatures which would lead to the identity of any of those who had evaded capture. Most had either escaped or been killed- they seemed to prefer suicidal attacks to capture. Despite that, the Volunteers had managed to capture four Resistance members, all badly wounded, and at least two of those had been unconscious when found.
There were now Volunteers scattered throughout the base, trying to get DNA samples from blood or tissue left behind during the battle. DNA tests nowadays could be run on only a drop of blood. And there was certainly enough blood scattered everywhere. A lot of it probably came from those dead or captured, but many of the injured had escaped. This would enable them to find out who those people were, assuming, of course, that they could find uncontaminated blood samples. It was a very new technology, and this was only the second time it had been used in the field, and field conditions are a lot more complicated than laboratory conditions.
Sandoval noticed one of the Volunteers standing near what had been one of the building's entrances start for an instant. The Volunteer fiddled nervously with the dials on the scanner, as if it wasn't working correctly or as if he didn't believe his readings. Sandoval wondered idly if the Volunteer had just discovered someone he knew was in the Resistance. But then the Volunteer looked up at Sandoval and back down at his scanner again as if to retest its findings. After playing around with the scanner a bit more, he finally, slowly, almost reluctantly, started making his way towards Sandoval over the rubble scattered across the floor. Sandoval watched him move across the room, wondering what was causing the look of apprehension on the Volunteer's face, realizing there was more going on than the Volunteer finding out that a friend was a member of Resistance. He wouldn't look scared to approach Sandoval if he had discovered a friend of his was a Resistance member- there had to be more than that. Had the Volunteer determined the identity of one of the Resistance spies Sandoval knew were seeded among the Volunteers?
"Agent Sandoval?" the Volunteer said softly upon reaching him. "Uhmm, I found a DNA reading that didn't match any of the deceased."
And, Sandoval thought, why is this of particular interest to me? That is what you're looking for, after all- the identities of those Resistance members who escaped capture. What makes this DNA reading different from the others you're looking for?
"I ran it through the DNA database, but it didn't match anyone."
"Is that so much of a surprise, Corporal Milson, that you felt I had to know it immediately?" Sandoval inquired softly, the steel in his tone thinly veiled. "While virtually all U.S. citizens are registered, many citizens in poorer countries are not."
"I know that, sir, so I tried to have the scanner analyze the DNA to determine the racial type. But the scanner kept showing an error." Glancing up, the Volunteer clearly saw the impatience on Sandoval's face, and hurried on with his explanation. "I ran some more tests, sir, and, well…. I really think you need to look at this yourself." He virtually pushed the scanner into Sandoval's hands. Sandoval grabbed the scanner to keep it from falling to the floor and looked at it in carefully veiled confusion. These scanners were far more complicated than those he had used before, and he had no idea what data was being displayed, or even if data was being displayed.
"Exactly what it this I'm supposed to be looking at?" he asked sharply. These Volunteers can't deal with any thing on their own. They're supposed to be trained on this equipment, so why is he asking me about what it shows? he thought in exasperation.
"Just a minute, here," the Volunteer replied as he pressed a button on the device. "If you look right here," he pointed, "this is the person's DNA."
Sandoval sighed, and looked where the Volunteer was pointing, only to stare in disbelief. "How can that DNA have three strands?" Well, maybe this was something that should be brought to my attention.
"I don't know, sir, but I ran a DNA scan on the strands, trying to determine identity," he pressed another button under Sandoval's disbelieving stare. "Here's who the computer came up with as parents," he added apprehensively. The lower part of the screen, which had shown some sort of complicated data, went blank, and then a few lines of data replaced the previous overabundance.
Sandoval tore his eyes from the impossible DNA to read the parents' identities.
Father: Ronald Sandoval
Mother: Siobhan Beckett
Other: Unknown
His mouth opened as he stared in disbelief at the information before him. He had found his son. After all his searching, he had finally found some smidgen of information on his son. Every previous lead had turned up empty. That finally made sense looking at the data before him. His son was in the Resistance. Or at least living with them. How? Why? And the other almost as important piece of information-his son was a hybrid. What had the Taelons done? His mind raced in a million directions at once as he tried to assimilate this new information. There was too much to think about. But first, he had to deal with Corporal Ramirez and all the other Volunteers.
Pulling his mask firmly back into place, Sandoval looked at the Volunteer. "You are to speak of this to no one outside your unit!" As much as Sandoval wanted to, he couldn't order the Volunteer not to discuss the matter at all. That would look far too suspicious, and he couldn't afford to draw suspicion, not now that he finally had information on his son. Restricting the information to this one unit made sense in more than one way. They were the only ones here, and they were one of his "special" squads, the ones charged with activities the Taelons might not want to be associated with. No one would find it suspicious that they had access to information others didn't.
"That project is classified top secret, and not known to many of the Taelons let alone to humans." It must be if I don't know about it. "I shouldn't even be telling you this," he added confidentially, "but you've discovered it on your own. This information is to stay within your unit, understand? Mark this DNA as classified on the system, so the other Volunteers won't spend valuable time trying to figure out the anomalies." His mind going in circles, Sandoval suddenly wondered what his son was doing on a Resistance base. "You have a new assignment," he added. "I want you to find every location that has this DNA. I want to know where in this base this hybrid," he forced himself to twist the word angrily, "has been." He forced himself to continue. No one must question his willingness to find every Resistance member. "We can't allow such creatures free reign of humanity." He paused, and added suddenly, "How badly was …it injured?" Please, he prayed to a god he didn't really believe existed, please let it be a minor injury.
The Volunteer just looked at Sandoval in puzzlement.
"How much blood did you find?" Sandoval asked in exasperation. Can't these Volunteers put anything together by themselves?
"Oh," the Volunteer replied with a dawning look of understanding. "There were only a few drops of blood. It looks like he…it was standing near that concrete pillar that got hit in the first wave of the attack- probably just got nicked by flying debris."
" Very well. You have your instructions. Get to work."
"Yes, sir!" And with that the Corporal moved away from Sandoval carefully bent over his scanner once more.
As Sandoval watched him leave, he realized he had been foolish in what he had told the Volunteer. Now that he had a chance to think, he realized he should have told the Volunteer that the data couldn't be true, that it was all a ploy by the Resistance. Milson had been confused enough, he would have bought it, but he hadn't been thinking clearly enough to realize that he should have acted as though his first tangible proof of his son was a lie. I should have been thinking more clearly, he reprimanded himself. I just hope those lies don't come back to haunt me.
Sandoval remained in place, his mind a mass of disturbing and conflicting thoughts. A hybrid. My son is a hybrid. Those damn Taelons, experimenting with my DNA without my knowledge. But if they created my son, how did he make it down here? They'd never have let him go. He mulled this thought over for a few minutes. He didn't remember hearing of any projects, as the Taelons called their experimental subjects, escaping.
Of course. The Resistance. They must have rescued him in one of their raids. But that idea didn't seem quite right. But I don't remember any raids that I didn't investigate. I would have noticed evidence of children. I know I would have. So where did he come from? Did the Taelons hide the children even from me, and why? Did they suspect my motivational imperative wasn't as strong as they thought? Considering everything I've done for them, why did the Taelons feel the need to hide this from me? He paused. Or did they? But where else could a hybrid have come from? The Resistance certainly wouldn't make one. Neither would any of the less militant anti-Taelon groups. And perhaps more importantly, why use my DNA? I can understand the Taelons using it- simpler to use samples already available, but I can't see any human group that experimented with hybridization using my DNA, and besides, where would they get it? It's not exactly for sale on the street corner. But I'm not going to get anywhere with that line of questioning until I can get back to the mothership and go through their records.
I have to decide what I'm going to do. How do I feel about the fact that my only child is a hybrid? He thought about that long and hard. DeeDee and I tried for so long to have a child. That was one of the reasons I joined to Taelons, in the hope that some of their technology could help us have a child. The MI changed all that. I still want a child though. I just didn't think I'd ever have the time. Finding a woman I love and having a child takes time, time I don't have. This CVI won't last forever. The last one only lasted three years. It's already been two. I keep expecting this one to die, particularly since it's already broken down somewhat with the destruction of the MI. And even if I found a woman who would love me, I'd probably have just enough time to see the child born before I die. I don't know if I'd want to bring a child into the world as it is now, particularly considering it would never know its father.
But a hybrid, they grow much faster than normal children. He'd probably look like he's at least 5, since he was big enough to donate two pints of blood. I'd get to know my son as more than just an infant. I could actually be a father to him, a father he'd remember. That thought was very appealing. He'd be able to keep my memory alive after my death. He paused. I think having a hybrid for a child might be for the best. At least now, he'll get to know me, and he'll remember me after I'm gone. He is my son, despite whatever the facts of his birth.
How old is he? And how old does he look? He laughed to himself. Those two have nothing in common, not when dealing with hybrids. He knew other Taelon hybrids had grown at accelerated rates. He could look any age.
Oh, my God. I could have shot at him and not even known it. He could even be among the dead! Wait a minute, calm down Ron. Think! The Volunteers already took DNA samples from the dead and captured so they could filter the DNA here to determine who escaped. Therefore, my son can't be any of the bodies we've already found or among the prisoners. I could still have shot at him, though. I know I hit a couple of people. But at least I know he isn't dead. And we didn't find much blood. He's got to be all right. That's something. How do I find him, though?
As Sandoval was contemplating the difficulty of finding one person in the Resistance in a group of thousands, all hidden with great ingenuity, he noticed the approach of Volunteer Milson. He must have found something. Maybe this will give me more information on who my son is, or how to find him.
"Sir, I've searched the main corridors of the base and found traces for the desired DNA in only one other location. I thought you would want to know immediately." Milson had managed to complete a large part of his search while the other Volunteers were still working on the more general sweep since searching for such a unique DNA trace was easier than trying to identify a multitude of normal DNA readings jumbled together.
Gesturing for the Volunteer to precede him, Sandoval slowly followed Milson to the location where the DNA had been found wondering as he went if he really wanted to find more DNA traces. Such evidence might help him learn more about his son, but it meant his son was injured, perhaps seriously. Additionally, he was going to have enough of a problem convincing the Volunteers this was top-secret without more of them stumbling across the unusual DNA. The more people who saw the proof with their own eyes, the harder it would be to stop the gossiping. He really should have thought more before he said anything to Milson, but he had just been so surprised that he had said the first thing that came to mind to keep Milson quiet.
As he watched the dark-haired Volunteer ahead of him move nimbly around the debris, he wondered idly if his son had dark hair or light, was short or tall, slight or stocky, hoping that Milson's DNA traces might help him learn more about his son. He already knew he couldn't try to put together how his son looked from his DNA profile. That technology didn't exist yet, and even if it did, it wasn't designed to handle three DNA strands. The alien DNA could have changed which genes were dominant or recessive. No, the only way to know what his son looked like was to actually see him, which wasn't as much of a stretch as one might think. Sandoval had been all over the building during the battle, and with his CVI, he would be able to replay any moment of that battle that he chose. Hopefully, sometime in the battle, he had seen his son. When he had some time, he was going to review those memories and look for anyone who resembled him.
They stopped in an area that Sandoval, with a sinking heart, recognized. He had been in this room before. The room looked like a war had occurred there, which was not far from the truth. His eyes quickly picked out the burn marks visible on the walls all around the room before settling for a moment on the pile of rubble visible through the doorway on the opposite side of the room, a pile of rubble that had been a corridor through which the Resistance had escaped. The Volunteer proceeded right to a wall with a burn mark Sandoval remembered very clearly.
**********************
He'd come in with the second wave of Volunteers. The Resistance had clearly been warned and was putting up a good fight. He crouched down behind a convenient piece of machinery to catch his breath, energy pistol in hand. Because using his skrill depleted his energy reserves, he only used it when he had to, and right now he didn't have to. Of course, he still used it in the presence of the Taelons, they would expect it. After all, that was the ostensible reason for the CVI- so that a person could control a Skrill.
The number of people firing at them seemed to be steadily decreasing and not all of that was due to the injury or death of the Resistance members. Clearly, they had another exit the Volunteers didn't know about since he hadn't had any reports from the Volunteers outside the building that they had captured the fleeing Resistance members. The exit was likely either a portable portal or an exit into a tunnel system of some kind under the building. Unfortunately, their plans for the building didn't show any such tunnels, and initial scans of the surrounding areas hadn't indicated any entrances to a possible tunnels system. Blundering around looking for an tunnel entrance would have been counterproductive as it would have alerted the Resistance.
Sandoval watched the remaining Resistance members carefully, trying to determine the leaders. Capturing them would deal a large blow to the Resistance, at least in this area. Once more he spotted a tall Resistance member wearing a black ski mask pulled over his features. There'd been others with masks, but this one was distinctive. The man was everywhere in the battle, and he was a crack shot, wounding several of the Volunteers. He'd be shooting at Volunteers on one side of the room, but blink, and he'd be halfway across the room putting pressure on a wound. Blink again, and he'd have dragged the wounded Resistance member back to whatever room they were evacuating from. A few seconds later, he'd be back in the thick of battle. Clearly, he didn't intend to leave until the end.
Which was just fine with Sandoval. The black mask indicated one of two things, either this was someone he or the Volunteers would or might know, or this was someone from a different Resistance cell that was hiding his identity from this cell. Either way, he would be a perfect person to capture. If he was known to the Volunteers, they would have their first link into the web of spies Sandoval knew was woven throughout the Volunteer Corps. If on the other hand, this was a member of a different cell, he could give them an entire other group of Resistors that the Volunteers might know nothing about.
Whoever that person in the black mask was, they had to know someone high up in the Resistance hierarchy, or know one of the spies on board the mothership. Only the Volunteers in this unit had known of the location of this raid. Obviously this person wasn't the person who had procured the information- unless he had stolen it from the mothership's computers. So he was either a hacker, and a good one, or a Resistance courier, which meant that he might know all sorts of information, including drop boxes, other cell locations, even the names or at least descriptions of spies within the Volunteers or the leader of the Resistance. This was one person they needed to capture.
Sandoval watched as black-masked man covered several Resistance fighters' retreat to a different room. Carefully edging forward Sandoval watched as he stuck his neck out again and again protecting Resistance members fleeing into the room behind him until finally he was the only one left in the main room who wasn't badly injured or dead. With covering fire provided by others in the room he was heading toward, he dived through the doorway, rolling out of the opening quickly.
Sandoval reached the doorway without incident. With a quick look he saw reasonable cover off to one side. Snapping off a few quick shots at the quickly diminishing number of Resistance members, he dove behind an abandoned piece of machinery. Unfortunately, this drew the attention of the remaining Resistance members, who sent up enough cover fire that the Volunteers were unable to follow Sandoval into the room.
Sandoval watched in impotent fury as the masked stranger laid down enough covering fire to allow the Resistance members to escape into the next room, where they appeared to disappear into a hole in the room. A tunnel. Damn it! He should have looked harder for a tunnel system even though there had been no indications of one. He should have known the Resistance would have more than just surface exits out of a building- they weren't stupid. Or were they going into the sewer lines themselves? It didn't matter right now. All that mattered was the infuriating man in the black mask who, despite his earlier proficiency in shooting, never seemed to hit Sandoval.
As the last of the Resistance members escaped down the hole, Sandoval carefully lined up his gun. He knew the man would have to break cover to reach the safety of the next room, and he was determined to capture him. Even with his planning, he almost missed the masked man- he was incredibly fast. His shot only grazed his upper arm, leaving a burn on his arm and on the wall behind him. Unfortunately for Sandoval, it wasn't the man's gun arm that was hit. Snapping a couple of shots off with his good hand forcing Sandoval back under cover, the masked man reached the tunnel entrance and jumped in. A second later Sandoval heard a splash, and then the entrance to the room with the tunnel collapsed. Sandoval stood still wondering for a few seconds if the rest of the building was going to come down around him, but it appeared that the Volunteers had found the majority of the explosives.
******************
Volunteer Milson started, "The DNA scanner shows that this shot right here contains the suspicious DNA. It looks like it was a grazing shot since…."
Sandoval interrupted, "I know what happened, Volunteer. Continue with your search." He watched the Volunteer leave, and turned back to stare at the burn mark on the wall. Oh, yes. He knew what had happened here. That burn mark had been caused when he shot the masked man in the arm.
He had shot his own son!
Only Sandoval's locking his knees prevented him from collapsing to the floor at the realization that he had shot his own son. He had never believed that he would injure his son, and yet he had. True it hadn't been intentional, but that didn't make him feel much better. He knew it was foolish, but he thought that he should have felt some sense of recognition when he saw his son- something to say this was his son, but he hadn't. And because he hadn't, he had shot his own son.
Did his son know who his father was? Thinking about it, Sandoval realized that was a foolish question. After all, his son had donated the blood he needed to live. And thinking over the battle, Sandoval realized his son, while an expert marksman when shooting others, had never seemed to hit him. Sandoval was good at dodging enemy fire, but not that good. If his son had wanted to hit him, he would have.
So his son knew who he was, and didn't want to hurt him. Or did he? His son had set off the explosives, after all. But remembering the previous bases the Volunteers had attacked, Sandoval realized the explosives had all been located in areas which might yield clues to the Resistance members' identities- bedrooms, living areas, and meeting rooms. His son knew exactly where he was and knew the explosions wouldn't kill him. He might even have realized that the Volunteers had been dismantling the explosives. No, his son had known he would survive when he had detonated the explosives.
Leaning against the wall next to the scorch mark, Sandoval wondered how many members of the Resistance knew that his son was his son. There must be some- the Resistance members who freed him from the Taelons had probably discovered the truth of his parentage during their raid- and yet they had still rescued him. There were some decent people in the Resistance. Had those people helped in raising his son? He hoped so. His son had probably needed some decent role models after being raised by the Taelons. And at least he didn't have to worry about some Resistance member abusing his son. He was clearly enough of an adult for that not to be a worry.
And the Resistance trusted his son. Why else would he be at this base in a mask? He was probably the courier who had brought the news of the attack to this cell. And couriers were trusted cell members. Sandoval just couldn't see his son worrying about being known to the Volunteers- the other obvious reason someone would wear a mask. It was highly unlikely that his son was an undercover agent of any kind. After his treatment at the hands of the Taelons, he probably didn't want to be anywhere near them. Plus, being a hybrid, he didn't exactly have an identity in the computer system. Creating an entirely new identity and then joining the Volunteers would be foolish- standard checks would reveal the truth quickly. No, his son had to be a courier from another cell- probably one with a very good hacker to find out about the attack before it occurred.
Well, at least he knew his son was all right. He had escaped before the explosion, and Sandoval's shot hadn't done more than graze him. But his son wasn't exactly in the safest of professions. What Sandoval really wanted to do was grab his son by the arms and yell at him. Didn't he realize how dangerous the Resistance was? Did he want to die? Being in the Resistance would only lead to a quick death. Now, he just had to find his son to convince him of this.
*************
Wincing in pain, Liam watched as Dr. Park efficiently bandaged his upper arm where Sandoval's Skrill blast had got him. It was going to be a pain. Sandoval had shot him in the right arm- and when working with the Taelons he was exclusively right-handed. In actuality, his Kimera heritage made him ambidextrous, but he had always used his right hand more. After the crackdown, he had decided to try to differentiate his Resistance persona from his Protector persona for his own protection. To that end, he started using his left hand exclusively in Resistance activities. That way, the description the Volunteers had of him was of a tall left-handed man, not something they would associate with a right-handed man. Just another way of preventing them from connecting Liam the Resistance member with Liam the Companion Protector. Unfortunately, that meant in this case, he was going to have to use his injured arm to maintain the fiction of his being exclusively right-handed.
"You have got to be more careful, Liam," she admonished him. "Don't you realize what would happen to the Resistance if you were caught? Not to mention how badly I'd feel." Looking straight into his eyes, she added, "I don't want to have to attend your funeral. You're just a child- a child I care for greatly. But you're too reckless. Every time I get a global call from you, I'm afraid you've been badly injured." She reached out to caress his cheek. "It doesn't do my heart any good. I'm under enough stress as it is. I don't need you adding to it." She tried to look stern, but the look in Liam's eyes defeated her.
Liam leaned into her caress, forgetting everything for a moment as he reveled in the feeling of being loved. Pulling away, with a little boy grin he said, "Sorry, Lissa. I don't try to get injured. You know that." He turned serious. "But I couldn't let that cell be captured. We've lost too many good people already. And before you say that I could have just globalled them, I tried." Liam looked frustrated. "Sandoval must have been blocking all global calls to that area. I'm just lucky I got there before the Volunteers attacked. They're getting smarter. They managed to disable most of the explosives in the base before they went off. That cell and all close family members of those cell members are going to have to go into hiding. We know the Volunteers will be using DNA scanners. We can't risk them being caught."
And what about you, Liam?" Dr. Park asked impatiently. "You were injured there, too. They might find your DNA there. Aren't you worried about that?"
"Of course I am. But there's no way to trace it back to me. It's just some unknown DNA with an alien strand running through it. For all they know, it could be some Taelon hybrid. Don't worry, Lissa. I know what I'm doing."
With an unhappy frown, Dr. Park said, "Well, at least next time take someone with you. If you had been more seriously injured, you wouldn't have been able to fly that shuttle. You might not have even made it to the shuttle."
"We don't have that many shuttle pilots," Liam reminded her. "And Renee normally does come with me to meet other cells. This was just too sudden. It's not like she can just disappear in the middle of a day full of meetings and no one ask any questions."
"You can't just disappear either," Dr. Park reminded Liam.
"True, but I can run off to check any of a hundred things. And the Volunteers know it. There's no reason for them to suspect anything. There's always something to be done for Da'an- scouting an upcoming speech site for possible ambush sites, checking out a project Da'an is interested in… there's a lot out there I could say I'm doing."
With a worried look in her eyes, Dr Park replied, "And just how are you going to explain this injury with any of those excuses? Not to mention your hands."
Looking down at his hands, Liam admitted she was right. They were covered with small cuts, most from the debris that rained down after he set off the explosives, but some from earlier. "I'll just have to think of an excuse." He thought for a moment, as Dr. Park watched him wondering what he was going to come up with this time. "I know. I helped rescue a cat. It wasn't very grateful- that's how I got the scratches."
"And the wound on your arm?" Dr. Park prompted him, shaking her head at his vivid imagination. Liam was extremely good at coming up with plausible reasons for every wound he had gotten. The Volunteers thought he was rather accident-prone and a little clumsy, particularly around young ladies, but that only helped his cover. They certainly never thought the wound on his leg was from an energy weapon and not a cut from rescuing a little girl's doll, or that the pulled muscles were from a dive to avoid a gun shot rather than from helping a young lady move. No, they didn't suspect a thing.
"I fell out of the tree. Caught it on a branch on the way down." He answered promptly. "Like I said, the cat wasn't very grateful. That should explain it enough. Hopefully, Sandoval won't even notice. I'm not supposed to meet with him for a couple of days, and by then my hands should have healed enough that he won't notice them. If I'm careful, he won't notice the arm either. With the pain medicine you gave me, it shouldn't hurt that much, not enough for him to notice."
Suspiciously, Dr. Park asked, "And just why are you so worried about Sandoval? You're not normally this concerned."
"Well…uh," Liam prevaricated.
"Liam," Dr. Park said sharply.
"He saw me there. More than once. He was prettily heavily involved in the fighting this time. I know he noticed me." Seeing the scared expression in Dr. Park's face, he hurriedly added, "But don't worry. He didn't recognize me. I was wearing my mask. There's no way he could have known it was me." Liam cut off his statement there, not wanting to add that his father had shot him.
With a sigh, Dr. Park realized that was all the information she was going to get. Liam was clearly hiding something- she knew him well enough to know that- but he wasn't going to tell her anymore. Remembering the wound, she wondered if Sandoval had caused it. That would certainly account for his worry about Sandoval noticing his wound and would explain what he was hiding. But bringing it up wouldn't help. Liam was as obstinate about his relationship with his father as his father was about destroying the Resistance. At times she just wanted to bash both their heads in. Sandoval had certainly hurt Liam enough already, but Liam seemed to forgive his father virtually anything. She sighed quietly. She would never understand that relationship.
*****************
After Lissa left, Liam sat back against the sofa. She had been right, he admitted to himself. Going to meet that cell knowing they were about to be attacked was dangerous. But he couldn't just let them all be slaughtered. He couldn't let them all die if he could possibly prevent it.
They'd tightened up procedures since the crackdown, and particularly since Da'an had used his image to lead the Resistance into a trap. Now, only he knew the codes to contact the different cells. The only way large meetings occurred was if Liam contacted the leaders in person and organized the meeting. The information on how to contact the cell leaders was present elsewhere, so that if he ever died someone could take over the leadership, but no one knew where. A coded message would reveal that. It made for a lot of work for Liam, but prevented any other large-scale captures of cell leaders. It also made the cells virtually independent from each other- not always the best thing.
To counteract that problem, Liam had established a private bulletin board. There, cell members could exchange coded information without ever seeing each other. As a safety measure, each person had a different entry code, and the codes of those captured were entered into the system. The system didn't block them- that would be too obvious, and if the cell member ever escaped, would leave him with no way of contacting anyone. Instead those using those codes were routed to a different board, which of course looked exactly like the original. So far, none of the Volunteers had figured out the deception.
The Atlanta cell leader had already called Liam and informed him of the identities of the captured cell members, and Liam had already input their codes into the system. Liam hoped silently that they were dead. He didn't want to imagine them under his father's less than tender mercies. In truth, he didn't have to. He'd seen the results of Sandoval's interrogations more than once. They still gave him nightmares, nightmares in which he was the one strapped down screaming in pain. He didn't want to imagine that, but there was always the worse alternative. Rather than someone discovering he was a Resistance member, they could discover he was part Kimera. He shivered, knowing that if they ever discovered he was Kimera, he'd probably be wishing he were only under Sandoval's care. It didn't bear thinking about.
Pulling the afghan over his legs, Liam sighed as he remembered his conversation with Lissa. He hadn't been completely truthful with her, on more than one subject. Still, it wouldn't surprise him to know that she'd figured out that Sandoval had shot him.
But what she didn't know was about the upgrade to the DNA scanners. The new scanners, which had only recently been deployed in the field, would be able to process his DNA enough to determine exactly who his father was. And there was no way the Volunteer who found his DNA wouldn't tell Sandoval. He'd been afraid of this for a while. How would his father feel about having a hybrid as a son? Liam was frankly scared to find out. He knew his father's feelings towards the Taelons - he didn't think his feelings for a half-breed son would be much different, though he still hoped.
But at least this way he would know. Oh, his father wouldn't go telling everyone about his son and his feelings about him, but even if he told the Volunteer who found the DNA to keep quiet, the information would be gossiped about, at least within that particular Volunteer unit. The news probably wouldn't get bandied around outside the unit- they were at least that security-conscious- but it was bound to be speculated on throughout the unit itself. The Resistance had a spy in that unit, a medic, who would tell him what Sandoval had said. Oh, he didn't expect Sandoval to tell the Volunteers he had an alien son in the Resistance, but he thought he'd be able to figure out Sandoval's true feelings from what he told the Volunteers. If he told them the initial scans were wrong or tried to hide the fact his son was in the Resistance in some other way, Liam would know that Sandoval cared about him, at least a little.
At least he'd know. He just wasn't certain if he really wanted to know.
***************
Sandoval sighed. What did he really know about his son? He was quick, agile, and a terrific shot. He smiled to himself at those thoughts. Although he would never, could never, admit it, he was proud of his son's abilities. Calling up his memories of the battle, Sandoval realized his son was relatively lean, at least as much as could be determined through the clothes he was wearing. He was also a few inches taller than Sandoval. Finally, he was left-handed as he had been holding his gun in that hand. Or, he amended himself, he could be ambidextrous. Looking over his memories carefully, Sandoval tried to see if there was anything more. But no, he didn't even know his son's eye color- they had been too far apart.
But maybe the prisoners knew something.
He knew that soon the prisoners would be transported to the mothership. The problem with waiting until he was there to interrogate them was that all interrogations were monitored. He didn't want anyone to realize how important the man in the black mask was to him. His only choice was to question the prisoners now. But how to elicit the information from them without sophisticated interrogation means? He smiled to himself as an answer came to him. Now if they would only believe him…
****************
Daniel looked around in despair. Sitting on the ground outside the former Resistance base were three others besides himself. There were in an open area away from the base, but they hadn't been placed in a vehicle as that would have brought the prisoners into too close quarters with the Volunteers. Surrounding them were six Volunteers- very alert Volunteers. The Volunteers weren't close enough to knock out, assuming any of them were even up to that. He had a nasty burn on his back, a broken arm, and a concussion. The only reason he was a prisoner was that he had been unconscious for a large part of the attack. Denise had broken ribs and a broken arm while Roger was sporting a twisted knee and a burn on his leg, and Fred had a broken leg. None of them had been able to run during the battle, it was unlikely they'd be able to overpower their guards now.
He only hoped he'd have the courage to die before revealing any information. They all had suicide capsules, but he wasn't about to take it until he had no choice. Of course, if he waited too long the Volunteers would discover it, and then he would have no choice, period.
Looking at their guards, he noticed them straightening up even more. Someone was coming. Looking toward the building, Daniel saw Agent Sandoval approaching. He shivered involuntarily. Sandoval was the stuff of nightmares. There were rumors about his interrogations- that everyone talked- that no one came out whole- that most didn't come out at all. He'd heard the man had killed his own wife- that he'd experimented on children.
Sandoval had stopped near the Volunteers and was coolly looking over the prisoners. Daniel shivered again as Sandoval's gaze passed over him. Sandoval's face was expressionless, his eyes seeming like black holes into which a person could fall forever. It was not the face of a man with a conscience, but that of a remorseless killer.
The tone of his voice was like liquid nitrogen as he dismissed three of the Volunteers. "You three, spread out and look for any tunnel entrances. Talk to Captain Porter about where his men have already searched. I want to be out of here before it gets too dark," he said with a pointed look at the sunset.
Turning to the remaining three Volunteers with a glint in his eye that Daniel didn't want to understand and a twisted small grin on his lips, Sandoval coolly said, "I want to speak to the prisoners alone."
Daniel watched fearfully as the remaining guards backed away from them, fading into the background. While the guards had been threatening, they had been a known threat, an understandable threat, and Sandoval was neither of those. Daniel was afraid of what Sandoval was going to do with no one around to witness his actions. It was a measure of his fear that he never even thought of attacking Sandoval.
Seeming to tower to the skies, Sandoval stood silently watching the prisoners for several minutes as their fear and terror grew greater. He had them so mesmerized that they all started when he finally moved. "I want to know everything you know about the man in the black balaclava. He was tall, relatively thin, and an excellent shot. I'm sure you all know who I'm talking about."
Daniel tried to keep the surprise off his face- this wasn't what he had expected Sandoval to say- though he wasn't certain what he had expected Sandoval to say. He wondered why Sandoval was even bothering- he had to know they wouldn't talk. Besides, it wasn't even as if they knew much about the man Sandoval was asking about- he wasn't a member of their cell.
Sandoval waited for a few moments for someone to speak up, not seeming to be surprised when no one answered him. "No answer? I didn't think so." With an evil grin on his face and a look in his eyes that Daniel didn't want to recognize, he reached for Denise, pulling her up by her unbroken arm. She tried to hide her pain as her ribs were jolted by his abrupt movement. "Well, I'm sure this young lady and I will have a wonderful time," he said as he looked at Denise with an expression that couldn't be interpreted as anything other than lustful. "And I'm sure the Volunteers will have some fun as well," he added absently.
Daniel's heart screamed to him as Sandoval started to pull Denise away. He couldn't let this happen- Denise was his wife! He couldn't just sit there and not do anything as his wife was raped in front of him. He had thought he could stand up to any torture, but to see his wife in the hands of that monster… "NO!!!" he screamed. "Don't! Please! I'll tell you what you want to know," he sobbed.
Denise yelled, "No! Don't!" though anyone could see she was terrified of Sandoval. But she clearly didn't want valuable information to be revealed to save her either.
Daniel hesitated, and Sandoval shook Denise roughly, saying "I thought you had something to say, but clearly you don't, so…" He made to drag Denise off again. That decided Daniel.
"No. Don't. I'll tell you what you want to know. Just don't ... hurt… her. I don't know much about him, but I'll tell you what I know."
Sandoval looked mildly interested but kept a firm grip on Denise's arm as he waited for Daniel to continue.
"He's a courier from another cell- I don't know which, but he brought the information about the attack. I never saw him without the mask, but the cell leader seemed to know him."
Sandoval just stood there, as if contemplating whether that was enough information for him to release Denise.
"Do you know his name?" he demanded abruptly.
Daniel shook his head, tears filling his eyes as he realized his betrayal of the courier might not be enough to save Denise.
Suddenly, Roger, who hadn't said a word during this conversation, spoke up. Moving his eyes from looking out into the woods beyond them to Sandoval, he said, "I heard him called Falcon. It's probably his codename."
Sandoval contemplated this information silently, and then released Denise's arm. With a sob, she collapsed at Sandoval's feet. He paid her no more attention as he looked over the prisoners again. That proved to be a mistake as she grabbed him around the ankles, bringing him to the ground. And suddenly, Roger was there, grabbing Sandoval in a chokehold as he tried to kick Denise to free his feet. His breathing being far more important than his feet, Sandoval reached up with his arms trying to dislodge Roger or shoot him with his skrill. But by then Fred had reached them and was trying to force Sandoval's skrill arm back against his body. With a sigh, he went limp as unconsciousness overcame him.
"What are you thinking?" Daniel hissed, "The Volunteers will be here any minute."
"No they won't," Roger replied. "There's somebody in the woods, one of ours. I think it's Mike and Susan. Remember? They went out for supplies. They've knocked out the guards. We're lucky Sandoval sent the other Volunteers away- they wouldn't have been able to manage to rescue us with six alert guards close by. Come on. I need your help to get out of here."
With a confused shake of his head, Daniel got up and helped Roger stand. "So that's why you told him the courier's name? To buy more time before Sandoval called for the guards? Did you tell him the truth?"
"Yeah," he sighed, "I did. I had to. He's got this uncanny ability to recognize a lie. And I didn't want him to wonder why I was lying. If I had lied, he'd have raped Denise. Plus, he'd have known that I was lying and would have wondered why I would have risked her like that. He might have been able to call for more Volunteers before we could subdue him."
Looking back suddenly, Daniel asked, "Did you kill him?"
With an impatient snort, Roger replied, "No. You forgot the directive, didn't you? Don't kill Sandoval unless there's no choice. And I can see why- his successor would probably be worse. After all, I think his successor is Kincaid. We can't risk him becoming chief protector. You've seen him. With him as the head of the Volunteers, we'd get less chances at them, and he'd convince people the Taelons aren't so bad. He'd be a perfect front man for the Taelons, and he's so likable everyone would believe him. You've seen him work- that would be a disaster. We can't risk it."
By then, they had reached the shelter of the woods and found Mike and Susan heading toward them from opposite directions as they had suspected.
"Come on," Mike whispered. "It won't take them long to figure out what happened. We've got to get to the main road before then."
Moving quickly, they got into an old van, the back of which was filled with grocery bags. They were on the main road before they saw a shuttle, clearly searching the road they had just left. They had escaped.
*********************