Claire leaned against a lab bench, holding an ice pack against her nose. The bleeding had stopped, but the blasted thing was going to be very sore.
"Well, that could have gone better...."
Hobbes was subdued. "How long will that dart of yours keep him out?"
"A few hours. It can be a bit unpredictable once he goes into quicksilver madness. Time enough for me to move this along a few more steps," Claire added, gesturing at the chemisty equipment scattered about the lab.
"How much longer, Keep? Until, you know, until you've got some of the good stuff ready for him?"
"Three more days. And yes, I know it's time we may not have!"
Hobbes glanced at all the equipment. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Thanks, Bobby, but the last step won't be finished for another hour."
"And when's the last time you got any sleep?"
She waved him off. "I've done with less."
"You've got three more days to get through, remember? C'mon, at least come out of here for half an hour and get some lunch. You'll do better with something to race your engine on. I know this great little Italian place, just a couple of blocks from here...."
"No, I should stay," she said halfheartedly, "Keep an eye on Darien -- "
"We just left him. He's in a straightjacket in a padded room. Even if he wakes up, what's he gonna do? Eberts will call if anything happens."
"Oh, alright," she said, rubbing her eyes wearily. "It'll help me stay awake."
"Sure, a little fresh air, a little walk, it'll do you some good." Hobbes steered her towards the door before she could change her mind.
Elsewhere in the building, Fawkes stirred restlessly in his sleep.
Eberts watched nervously through the two-way mirror. He was sure this wasn't part of his job description. He tried to distract himself with the annual reports, but even they couldn't quite calm him this time. He began going through the budget reports again, checking over the math on the sections the Official had worked on.
He deliberately buried himself in the numbers. When the electronic chirp sounded, he jumped up and back, scattering papers across the room. His eyes flew to the window, but his charge was still lying where he'd last seen him.
Only when the sound repeated did he recognize it as the ringing of a cell phone. It took a couple more rings before he calmed down enough to sheepishly answer it.
"Hello?"
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Albert! Have you gotten your apartment back into the hopelessly tidy state it was in before my little....visit?"
"How did you get this number?" Eberts stammared.
"Oh, come on! I was *you*, of course I'd know your cell phone number. The bloody thing pops up every time you turn it on."
** Pull yourself together,** Eberts thought. ** I can do this, I'm trained to be an agent when I have to be. Just....just take command of the situation. **
"What do you want?" Eberts asked in a somewhat firmer tone of voice.
"Just wondering how well I'd judged the timing here. Tell me, how is our friend doing? Is he screaming in restraints yet?"
Eberts knew this one. Don't give the enemy any more information than necessary. "Do you hear any screaming?" he asked, with a bit more confidence. He glanced guiltily at Fawkes, but the agent did not choose that inopportune moment to wake up.
"No matter," Arnaud replied. "If he isn't, he soon will be. I know all about the key ingredient that no one can get hold of."
"And I suppose you're calling to offer us some fresh counteragent out of the goodness of your heart?"
"I'm afraid even I can't get ahold of that ingredient just now. And it takes *so* *long* to make it up from scratch! But there is a different recipe, one that doesn't require that particular agent. One that I think you'll be needing, before too long...."
"You....you...." Eberts was not a violent man, but the gloating in Arnaud's voice made him want to strangle him.
"I'll be in touch," Arnaud told Eberts. Then the line went dead.
"Well, that could have gone better...."
Hobbes was subdued. "How long will that dart of yours keep him out?"
"A few hours. It can be a bit unpredictable once he goes into quicksilver madness. Time enough for me to move this along a few more steps," Claire added, gesturing at the chemisty equipment scattered about the lab.
"How much longer, Keep? Until, you know, until you've got some of the good stuff ready for him?"
"Three more days. And yes, I know it's time we may not have!"
Hobbes glanced at all the equipment. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Thanks, Bobby, but the last step won't be finished for another hour."
"And when's the last time you got any sleep?"
She waved him off. "I've done with less."
"You've got three more days to get through, remember? C'mon, at least come out of here for half an hour and get some lunch. You'll do better with something to race your engine on. I know this great little Italian place, just a couple of blocks from here...."
"No, I should stay," she said halfheartedly, "Keep an eye on Darien -- "
"We just left him. He's in a straightjacket in a padded room. Even if he wakes up, what's he gonna do? Eberts will call if anything happens."
"Oh, alright," she said, rubbing her eyes wearily. "It'll help me stay awake."
"Sure, a little fresh air, a little walk, it'll do you some good." Hobbes steered her towards the door before she could change her mind.
Elsewhere in the building, Fawkes stirred restlessly in his sleep.
Eberts watched nervously through the two-way mirror. He was sure this wasn't part of his job description. He tried to distract himself with the annual reports, but even they couldn't quite calm him this time. He began going through the budget reports again, checking over the math on the sections the Official had worked on.
He deliberately buried himself in the numbers. When the electronic chirp sounded, he jumped up and back, scattering papers across the room. His eyes flew to the window, but his charge was still lying where he'd last seen him.
Only when the sound repeated did he recognize it as the ringing of a cell phone. It took a couple more rings before he calmed down enough to sheepishly answer it.
"Hello?"
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Albert! Have you gotten your apartment back into the hopelessly tidy state it was in before my little....visit?"
"How did you get this number?" Eberts stammared.
"Oh, come on! I was *you*, of course I'd know your cell phone number. The bloody thing pops up every time you turn it on."
** Pull yourself together,** Eberts thought. ** I can do this, I'm trained to be an agent when I have to be. Just....just take command of the situation. **
"What do you want?" Eberts asked in a somewhat firmer tone of voice.
"Just wondering how well I'd judged the timing here. Tell me, how is our friend doing? Is he screaming in restraints yet?"
Eberts knew this one. Don't give the enemy any more information than necessary. "Do you hear any screaming?" he asked, with a bit more confidence. He glanced guiltily at Fawkes, but the agent did not choose that inopportune moment to wake up.
"No matter," Arnaud replied. "If he isn't, he soon will be. I know all about the key ingredient that no one can get hold of."
"And I suppose you're calling to offer us some fresh counteragent out of the goodness of your heart?"
"I'm afraid even I can't get ahold of that ingredient just now. And it takes *so* *long* to make it up from scratch! But there is a different recipe, one that doesn't require that particular agent. One that I think you'll be needing, before too long...."
"You....you...." Eberts was not a violent man, but the gloating in Arnaud's voice made him want to strangle him.
"I'll be in touch," Arnaud told Eberts. Then the line went dead.