Title: Deleri
Author: BethCarielle
See Chapter One for Disclaimer and Details
Chapter Four
"What did you learn?"
"Ellen Parker has been working for and handled by the government organization simply known as The Agency for the last 14 years. She is now known as Claire, occasionally using the last name Keeply, a variation of her position title within The Agency, which is The Keeper. She has a daughter, Dana, seven, her whereabouts are unknown. Ellen's last known whereabouts were at The Agency's Delta Eight facility outside La Mesa," Redlin's assistant finished.
Jason Redlin nodded and dismissed the underling. So, their protégé, Ellen, had turned state's evidence. How very interesting. Redlin had been cultivating Stratagen's interests for the last ten years. He had been cleaning up his predecessor, Ann Rolbin's, records and mistakes, mistakes like the Dallas raid 14 years ago, and losing Ellen Parker to what was their largest adversary, the U.S. Government. Even with their resources and financial power, they had yet to attract another brilliant mind like Ellen's and he was determined to get her back.
"Fawkes? Fawkes!" Bobby all but shouted, trying to get his partner's attention.
"Huh?" came Darien's mumbled reply.
"I said, 'don't worry about her, she'll be fine,'" repeated Bobby.
Darien nodded, trying to will himself to believe those words. It had been three days since Claire had literally disappeared, proving Darien wasn't the only one who could pull such an act. Bobby was making impressive progress, although he was still listed in serious condition.
"Hobbes, we don't even know where she is," Darien reminded his partner plaintively.
"Fawkes, listen to me. It's Claire," Bobby tried to explain, his voice growing weak, punctuated with small coughs as fatigue set in.
"Hobbes, Bobby, shh, you're over doing it again," said Darien gently. Bobby lay back on his pillows, glaring at his partner. He felt as though his body was betraying him, he tired easily and was still confined to his bed. "Are you ok Hobbesy?" Darien's voice penetrated Bobby's thoughts. Bobby looked up and caught Darien's imploring gaze.
"Yeah, fine man," mumbled Bobby.
"You ok if I go for the night?" asked Darien glancing at his watch, it was 10pm.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Fawkes, really."
"Ok, hang in there partner," replied Darien, clapping Bobby gently on the shoulder as he left the room.
****
"Ms. Keeply, you can't just go walk back into Dana's life."
"But she's my daughter," demanded Claire.
"Yes, she is, and we've never told her differently. She knows that she has a mother who loves her very much, but she has a dangerous job and she needs to stay here so you're both safe.
However, it's been two years; and the developmental psychology of a second grader is fragile. People change, Dana's changed; she's not the five year old you once knew."
Claire chewed on her lower lip. She had gained access to an internal computer at the DE facility and located Dana's whereabouts. She had then left the compound with the single-minded determination to get her daughter back and move on with her life.
"The Chrysalis Program has been operational for 40 years. We've developed a very successful reintroduction program. It has been known to take up to six months though; it depends on the psychology of the parent or parents and child or children," the woman continued to explain.
Claire nodded mute. So close yet so far. "When can I see her?"
"You can't. You have not been released from your current assignment," the woman said bluntly.
"You mean my rights as a parent mean nothing?" asked Claire, voice thick with anger.
"Dana is here because you can't provide her with a safe environment. Entrusting her to you would constitute child endangerment. Until your contract is up or The Agency assigns you to a safer position, Dana remains here," finished the woman severely.
"Sir! Sir!" Redlin's assistant came pounding down the hall. "We've lost her sir," he panted.
"Lost her?"
"Yes, Ellen Parker. She's no longer at Delta Eight."
"Then where is she?"
"We don't know. Apparently she was moved out four days ago, surveillance didn't catch it."
Jason Redlin paused in the center of the hall, thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of his nose. The incompetence of some people was completely inexcusable.
"We know she's attached to The Agency personally. Tell Novac to move in. Have him take APF."
"APF sir?"
"Yes."
The underling nodded and moved off down the hall to complete his assignment. Redlin turned and continued down the hall to his office. If APF didn't draw Ellen out, at least it would rid him of those annoying Agency nitwits.
****
"Fawkes! What do you mean you're going to go find her? You don't even know where she is!" Alex shouted after the retreating form of The Invisible Man on the morning of the fifth day of Claire's absence.
Darien listened to the words echo down the hall. Lips pressed together in determination, he turned to face Alex. "I have to find her! She's the only one I trust damn it, I need her."
"You are being incredibly selfish," Alex murmured icily.
Darien stared at her, eyes narrowing in understanding. "You know. You know where she went," he accused.
Alex stood expressionlessly as Darien approached her. He was quickly entering her personal space and she instinctively tensed, shifting her weight for ease of attack. Even around people she trusted she couldn't let her guard down, she had lost too many people that way.
"I have no idea where Claire is," denied Alex.
"You're lying!" demanded Darien.
"I'm not," pleaded Alex weakly.
Darien stared, unwilling to compete with the decidedly senior agent. "Alex, where is she?" he asked quietly, the fight draining out of him.
"She's ok. I'm the only one here who knows where she went," admitted Alex, "And that's only because she told me herself. And she has my car."
"Why didn't she tell me? I didn't even know she was leaving," said Darien.
"There are more important things in her life, more important than you," continued Alex. "Look, Fawkes, Claire can't keep you forever. I don't mean to sound harsh, but you're just an assignment, and assignments change."
"I am not just an assignment," seethed Darien.
"See? That's where you're wrong."
Darien stood still, lips pursed in denial, staring at the floor. Claire didn't just consider him an assignment, she couldn't. Could she? Crap. She could, and did. He was being selfish, but that didn't mean he didn't want her back.
Darien looked up and Alex saw the defeat in his eyes. "Come on, let's go check on Bobby," she said, hoping to distract him. Darien nodded and headed back towards the recovery room that his partner hated with a passion.
****
"Hello?"
"Claire?"
"Alex?"
"Claire we need you," said Alex, fear tinting her usually steady voice.
"Alex, no. It's done. I've left."
"Claire please, we don't know what it is. Crena, Jameson, and Willis are dead. Others are sick. We need you."
"What?" shouted Claire into the phone.
"You don't know? You weren't told? Oh, God…" Alex trailed off.
"What's happened? Dahrien, Robert, you…are you alright?"
"The whole facility is locked down. Fawkes and I are in the agent dorms when the lock down happened, Bobby's still in recovery. It kills quick Claire, they can't stop it."
Claire medical investigative instincts kicked into gear. "When did it start? What are the symptoms?" she queried.
"Fever, pain, internal bleeding. They suffocate Claire."
"How long?"
"About 48 hours. They know it's a virus, they don't know how it's transmitted. I haven't heard about any new cases. Claire please, the docs here are clueless."
Claire tossed the possibilities over in her head. What could have gotten to the DE personnel? Something didn't feel right. She had refused to return to DE without Dana, and was fighting a repetitive battle of bureaucracy in the attempt to get her back.
"Claire?" Alex's voice broke her thoughts.
"I'll call, Alex, see what's going on," she murmured.
"Oh…ok," replied Alex dejectedly, flinching as the gun barrel that was pressed against her skull shifted slightly. She glanced up into the face of the man who had identified himself only as Novac.
Alex said a few more words to Claire and hung up the phone.
"So when's the good doctor going to put in an appearance?" he asked, voice dripping with malice, not waiting for an answer.
Alex glanced around the room, watching the expressions of the others in the room. Claire hadn't said she was going to return to DE, not that it really mattered, they weren't at DE anyways. Alex, Darien, and Bobby had been assigned to investigate a series of taunting hints about Claire left behind at the scenes of murders that had occurred over the last three weeks. 'A brilliance will soon fade,' 'Return her,' and 'Don't trust her truth.' The phrases and statements implied there was more to this than they had originally suspected.
Each murder consisted of a victim who had died from what turned out to be a lethal virus that killed by rupturing the alveoli in the lungs and causing the victim to literally drown in their own blood. About a dozen people were dead; although the singular blessing was that the virus was not airborne.
Things had taken a turn for the worse when the last murder they were sent to investigate turned out to be a trap. They had arrived at the 'scene' where Darien did some invisible sneak and peek, looking for anything out of the ordinary up close.
When the first seizures of QSM crashed through his body Alex and Bobby had been forced to call back to DE for Counteragent. The same nurse who had been keeping Darien from insanity had arrived in record time, accompanied by agent Pierson.
After administering the Counteragent, Pierson and the nurse, Prue, prepared to leave. That was when things went to hell. Agents Crena and Willis were the first struck, quickly followed by Bobby and Pierson. Alex and Jameson had been next, leaving Prue and Darien to be the last to receive a small red-feathered dart filled with sedative.
They had woken later to find themselves securely strapped to chairs in a small room, Novac taking center stage. With a cheerful smile he began to explain what his plan was and how they fit into it, and how much he had enjoyed Darien's little attack.
The others had watched Novac first inject Agent Pierson when Claire's location was not revealed immediately. They watched as the man deteriorated in the next 48 hours, finally succumbing to the inevitable, the wracking, bloody coughs draining the life from his body. After that, as though it were a game, Novac systematically infected the other agents, each dying the same way.
Trading his needle for a 9mm, Novac forced Alex to contact Claire, try to draw her back to him for 'collection'. Having little choice, Alex called. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips as the gun was removed from its position against her skull. Novac casually glanced over the people in the room.
"So, is everyone comfortable?" he inquired.
"Go to hell," answered Bobby. He had recovered fully, nothing more than angry red scars left to remind him of his earlier ordeal.
"You first," replied Novac politely, retrieving a syringe. Bobby sat stone faced, refusing to give the bastard any satisfaction of seeing his fear. "Or perhaps nurse MacKay would like to experience this," he suggested, grabbing Prue's arm.
"Leave her alone!" demanded Darien, watching the color drain from her face. She was not an agent; she was a civilian who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Volunteering are we?" sneered Novac, approaching Darien.
"Claire said she'd come!" said Alex urgently, trying to take Novac's focus off his little torture game. They had been through this three times already. Pulse and respiratory rates soaring as Novac played a twisted game of Russian roulette with his needle.
Novac laughed, and to the relief of the room's occupants, he recapped the needle. "Yes, yes. She is. She never could stay away from a good medical mystery," he replied with a smile. "Please, relax, enjoy yourselves," said Novac as he tucked the syringe away in his jacket pocket and left the room, locking it from the outside.
"Did Claire really say she was going to come back here?" asked Bobby.
"No. She said she would call. I think she knew something wasn't right. There wasn't a whole hell of a lot I could tell her directly," replied Alex, nodding her head indicating the gun that had been pressed against it.
Bobby nodded and sighed, giving up his struggle against the bonds that kept him seated. He hated being powerless, whether in a situation like this or two weeks ago when he couldn't trust his own body not to fail him. Outnumbered, outgunned, and outmaneuvered, Bobby and the others were at the sadistic mercy of Novac.
****
Claire paced the small apartment she had been 'given' while her battle for custody of Dana waged. Alex's voice on the phone was not the voice of the confident agent she knew. Something was wrong, and it was probably a trap. What could she do? If the DE facility had been infiltrated, chances were they might take over the Chrysalis Program next, especially since she was here. She needed to leave. She would attract danger to Dana and the other children.
Acting on impulse, Claire grabbed her purse and left the tiny apartment, flying down the stairs and across the compound. She had arrived at the Chrysalis compound via Alex's car and it was still here. Saying a small prayer for Dana and another for forgiveness, Claire climbed into the sports car and left.
The drive to the Chrysalis compound hadn't been long, but an eternity passed as Claire crossed endless desert, mind warring with what she would do upon her return. What had happened at the Delta Eight facility? Actually, she had a pretty damned good idea what had happened, she just wanted to know how Stratagen had tracked her. And this virus, was it something she could defeat? Something she had worked on or something else entirely new and dreadful?
"God damn it all!" Claire cursed, pounding her fist against the steering wheel, forgetting about the almost completely knit bones in her hand. Tears of pain sprung to her eyes, accompanied by hot tears of anger. This was not how things were supposed to work out. She wasn't supposed to be some high-level internal government spy. She wasn't supposed to be forcefully kept from her daughter. She wasn't supposed to endanger her friends with her very existence.
The setting sun reflected off the windows of the Delta Eight compound in the distance causing an involuntary shiver to run through Claire's frame. She was walking into the proverbial lion's den. Killing the engine of Alex's Corvette, Claire carefully climbed out of the car, scanning her surroundings. It was quiet, no sign of any upheaval. Where was everyone?
Just as the thought began to fade, a familiar figure approached from the main building. The Official had a grim look cemented on his face. Whatever news he bore was not good.
"Dr. Keeply."
"Sir."
"You have a lot to explain."
"Me sir? Where are Dahrien, Bobby and Alex? I received a call."
"A call? A call from whom? Agents disappeared, kidnapped we believe, four days ago. I know you know it's Stratagen."
"A call from Alex sir. She said there was a virus being spread around the DE facility."
The Official's already stone cold expression took on an extra degree of hardness. "Where did you receive this call?"
"At the Chrysalis Division."
He nodded and turned, heading back towards the main entrance. "Eberts! I want a list of all the incoming calls to Dr. Keeply's apartment while at Chrysalis," he demanded as he re-entered the building.
"Yes sir," agreed Eberts as he left, heading towards the communications center of DE.
"If we can get a phone number, we can get an address, and then we might just be able to save the others from your mistake, Dr. Keeply," said The Official coldly.
Claire remained silent hearing her own thoughts voiced by another. This was her fault. Those agents' deaths were on her hands, as was Bobby's attack and the attempted attack on Darien.
"Sir!" called Eberts as he hurried back down the hall, sheet of paper in hand. "9578 Greenfield Drive! It's an industrial area outside Alpine," Eberts explained quickly, handing the paper towards The Official.
The Official nodded and reached for the paper just as Claire snatched it from Eberts' hand. "Sorry," she apologized and turned to leave the building.
"Doctor! Where are you going?" yelled The Official as Claire opened the door to the corvette.
"To fix my mistake," Claire shouted back and she pulled the door shut, and turned the ignition. "To fix my mistake," she murmured to herself as she put the car in gear and pulled away.
"Why, Dr. Parker, how nice of you to join us," gushed Novac with false enthusiasm as he gestured to the guards to leave her in the room. Claire had been apprehended as soon as she had neared the building at the address Eberts had uncovered.
"Mikhail Novac," replied Claire in an icy voice. Her loathing for the man went beyond comprehension. He had been Ann Rolbin's purveyor of illegal activities when Claire had been with Stratagen. His loyalties, if you could call them that, lay with whoever would keep him out of jail. He lied, he stole, he destroyed, and he killed.
More than one undercover federal operative investigating Stratagen's suspicious goings on had found themselves facing the silenced end of a semi-automatic in the hands of Novac.
"So glad you remember. It's been what? 13, 14 years? You look great," he continued.
"Go to hell you bloody bastard," answered Claire, glaring at the all too cheerful man in front of her. "Where are my friends?" she demanded.
"Down the hall. They've been enjoying the accommodations."
"Why them? Why not just take me in the beginning?"
"Just a gentle reminder that we can bring you down doctor. And we wouldn't want to leave you protected. We break your contacts, destroy your life, kill a person here and there, remind you there's nothing we can't do. The *Agency* was very thorough, you almost didn't exist. Very, very, well crafted. But we found you Ellen, or should I call you Claire? Ann's dead, although I didn't pull that trigger. Jason Redlin has been cleaning house, and re-establishing lost sheep. You're coming back Ellen," explained Novac. "The only person we can't find is your precious Dana," he said softly, letting the pin drop silence roll around them.
"You touch her, I kill you. I will fucking kill you," seethed Claire, struggling against the cuffs enclosing her wrists behind her back.
"Now, now. Settle yourself doctor. You come back to us, and she'll be just fine. Ok," he started with a renewed smile and a clap of his hands, "I'll give you the night to think it over. I want an answer first thing in the morning. Have a good night Dr. Parker."
Claire swallowed against the raw bile in her throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger. Rough hands jerked her towards the door by her cuffed hands. She was propelled down the hall and ushered into a pitch black room. She heard Novac tell the guard to release her and heard a click and felt the disappearance of pressure from her wrists. She was pushed into the dark room and heard the door shut behind her, the scraping of locks sliding into place echoing around her.
Not moving, Claire was deafened by the blood pounding in her ears. Where was she now? What waited in this room? Was she alone? She forced herself to be calm, and heard what sounded like a faint shuffling.
"Hello?" she called faintly, scared she was either going to be attacked or frighten whoever was there.
"Claire?" answered an incredulous voice from the darkness. A voice that sounded like one Bobby Hobbes.
"Bobby?" she questioned, voice shaky with relief.
"Oh, God, Claire. Yes, it's Bobby. Where are you?"
"By the door," answered Claire, hearing the rustle of clothing and then carefully approaching footsteps. She mentally followed a soft scraping along the wall as Bobby moved towards her.
"Are you alright?" asked Bobby as he neared, one hand venturing out to bump into her shoulder.
"I'm fine. You, what about you?" she asked, hands instinctively reaching for his left flank for tactile reassurance. Bobby captured her hands, holding them in his own.
"I'm fine Claire. Fine. I promise," he said, drawing her further into the room, eventually to sit against a wall.
"Dahrien and Alex, where is everyone else?" she asked.
"He splits us up at night. Guess he thinks we can't discuss escape plans or something," replied Bobby, "But the cuffs come off. What does he want with you Claire?"
"He…he wants me to go back to Stratagen."
"Strata-what?"
"It's a bioengineering company. It's where I first worked. I didn't know what they were doing. They were killing people Bobby, hundreds of people. And I helped them!" explained Claire, voice rising in anger.
"Helped them?"
"I mapped the viruses and bacteria. Laid it all out for them so they could make them incurable. Whatever he has now is probably a direct result from my work," spat Claire.
She could hear Bobby sigh, she knew he was mulling over what she had revealed to him. It was a horrible fact of her past that she couldn't change. She scooted away from him, putting distance between herself and her friend. She would deal with Novac. She would return if he promised to let her friends go and he and his guards would leave the Agency alone. Permanently.
****
"Rise and shine!" bellowed a malicious voice as the door was flung open. Claire blinked against the brightness as overhead lights were thrown on. A quick glance around the room confirmed it to be both windowless and empty.
Three guards filed in, one training a weapon on Bobby and another on herself while the third cuffed them securely. "Let's go join your friends," announced Novac as they were lead from the room.
Together, Claire and Bobby were herded down the hall and into a larger room that contained five chairs with convenient wrist and ankle restraints. Alex was already in place, the anger and disgust that flashed on her face when Novac entered told Claire all she needed to know about Alex's opinion of the man.
"Claire!" gasped Alex upon seeing her pushed into the room and unceremoniously strapped into a chair.
"Alex," replied Claire with false calm.
"I'm sorry, Claire. I wish I hadn't called," said Alex.
"Don't be, Alex. It's not your fault. This was my mistake from fourteen years ago."
Claire turned her head to see Darien led into the room, looking much worse for wear and very near QSM. "Oh God, Dahrien. Dahrien? Are you alright?" asked Claire, panic in her voice as she addressed her Kept.
"Keepy?" asked Darien, the same incredulous note in his voice that Bobby had had.
"Yes Dahrien. It's Claire. Are you alright?" she repeated.
"Head hurts," he replied, shaking as a small tremor shook him.
"Ok, today we get to hear Ellen's; would it be better if I called her Claire? I wouldn't want to confuse, Claire's decision," drawled Novac as his guards took up positions around the room.
"He needs Counteragent! Let them go!" demanded Claire.
"What was that, Dr. Keeply?"
"You let everyone go and I'll go back with you."
"You would sacrifice yourself for their safety? That's very noble of you doctor."
"Look, Mikhail. You want to complete your assignment and return me to Stratagen. I'll go. Just let them go and leave them alone. Agent Fawkes needs Counteragent. If you don't let him go he'll die.
"And this is supposed to upset me?" asked Novac coolly.
"I know how it works, I've seen it all. If you kill me or get me killed, you'll find yourself looking at the same four walls for the rest of your life. Let them go," continued Claire.
Novac nodded absently, "I'll think about it," he said finally, turning to leave the room, giving the four guards terse instructions to not let them move.
"He needs Counteragent!" she screamed at his retreating form. Tearing her eyes from Novac, she looked at Darien. "Dahrien, look at me," she commanded gently. Darien pulled his chin from his chest and met his Keeper's gaze. Claire inhaled sharply when she saw the almost total redness of the sclera.
Claire noticed Bobby's hand working to grasp something. It was a pen. Silently, he slipped it under the strapping captured in the buckle and began trying to pull it loose.
Bobby continued his efforts, finally to be rewarded with some slack in the wrist restraint. Working the pen under the buckle he was able to loosen the leather strap and discreetly slip his hand free.
Stealthily, he undid his other wrist, completely freeing his upper body. He glanced around, watching the guards' positions. He could undo the ankle restraints, but he was going to have to be quick.
In a flash of movement he bent double in his chair and freed both legs. His movement attracted the guards' attention and they converged on him, weapons drawn. Bobby straightened up, grabbing the wrist of the guard nearest him and wrested the 9mm from his grasp. Gunshots filled the air, accompanied by strangled cries as Bobby hit his marks with deadly accuracy. The warm coppery odor of blood filled the room as Bobby stood panting, Novac's guards lying dead in the room.
Automatically, he moved to Alex who was seated beside him. She in turn freed Prue and Bobby moved onto Claire. The four by silent agreement left Darien restrained.
"Where did you learn to do that?" Claire asked Bobby as he unbuckled her wrist.
"Fawkes. We had a lot of free time while I was in recovery," he explained gruffly.
"What now?" asked Alex as she liberated guns from the guards, handing one to Bobby.
"Now we blow this joint," declared Darien in an icy voice that spoke of his battle of mental wills, pulling against the restraints still in place around his wrists.
"He needs Counteragent," repeated Claire, with Prue nodding in agreement.
"Novac's probably outside the door as we speak," said Bobby, urgency thick in his voice. "Darien? Darien, still with us partner?" asked Bobby.
"Sure Hobbesy, right here," cooed Darien.
"He's gone," said Alex.
"Knock him out," stated Claire simply.
"What?" questioned Bobby.
"Knock him out. We have to get out of here, and he's too far gone to cooperate."
Bobby nodded in grim understanding. "Sorry partner, you'll feel better later," promised Bobby as he effectively smashed the butt of his gun against the back of Darien's head, sending him into unconsciousness. Hurriedly, Bobby and Alex unstrapped the limp form of The Invisible Man, and moved him to hunch against the wall.
"Hate to do it, but I think we leave him here for the moment," said Bobby. Alex nodded in agreement and cautiously, she and Bobby approached the door. Surprisingly enough it wasn't locked from the outside. "It's a little too quiet," whispered Bobby as he pushed the door open farther, sweeping the hall outside.
"How many guards did he have?" asked Claire softly.
"I don't know, probably about a dozen," answered Alex.
"Minus four," added Prue with a shrug.
Bobby nodded and silently, they continued down the hall. "I don't believe it's clear all the way out," said Alex in disbelief. "What kind of sick game is he playing now?"
"The best kind, Ms. Monroe," echoed a voice through the hallway. "I've considered the doctor's offer. You can go. She can stay. Take your unconscious friend with you, although I do hate to miss another one of his fantastic shows," continued Novac's voice as he came into view at the end of the hall, silhouetted in the doorframe that led to freedom.
"All together now, he's not a small one," said Novac. Slowly, not turning on this rather unstable psychopath, Bobby and Alex backed towards the room where they had left Darien. Claire and Prue followed carefully.
As Bobby and Alex bent to retrieve Darien from the floor, an ear piercing shriek flooded the room. Novac's eyes widened and he stepped outside, slamming the door shut. Shouts and the sound of gunfire could just be heard through the alarm.
"I have a feeling we're not alone anymore!" Bobby shouted against the din. Pounding footfalls could be heard as guards and Novac ran down the hall. Orders were given and agreed to and Novac burst into the room.
"Time to go doctor," he demanded, grabbing Claire by the arm, while his guards kept their weapons trained on the group.
"No!" shouted Alex, delivering a kick to his midsection.
"Is that all, Ms. Five-Star A has?" he jeered as Alex prepared to attack again. Drawing back to punch him, Novac caught her wrist and smartly stuck his syringe into her arm. Time slowed and Alex was afraid to breathe as burning pain blossomed through her upper arm and shoulder.
"Oh shit," swore Bobby when he saw the needle puncture Alex's skin. Novac tossed the empty syringe to the floor and grabbed Claire once more.
"Say good bye," he instructed and yanked Claire from the room. Before reactions could be garnered, Agency SWAT members flew into the room.
"Get him out of here!" commanded Alex, indicating the still unconscious Darien. "He needs Counteragent!" she continued as they scooped him up.
"Monroe! Alex! You need to get, to get…" Bobby faltered, knowing there was no known cure for the virus she had just been subjected to.
"Hobbes…Bobby, get Darien and Prue out of here. I'm going after Claire," she replied, not letting herself think about the filth that was now coursing her veins.
"But,"
"No! Go! Now!" she commanded, leaving the room and running down the hall where Novac had dragged Claire.
"God damn her," spat Bobby as he followed the SWAT members and Prue from the building. Outside, he counted four more of Novac's guards dead, along with some of their own people.
"I want team two ready now!" he demanded, watching the appropriate people scramble into position. "Do we know where they are?"
Alex quietly walked down the semi-lit hall. She had been following the sounds of footsteps and struggle as Novac led Claire away. She wasn't going quietly. He must be headed towards another exit she thought as she tried to keep track of her location.
The sound of a door slamming shut drew her to the left. Weapon ready, she carefully approached the solitary door at the end of the hallway she was in. Listening, she heard Novac's cruel laugh and Claire's harsh reply. Taking a deep breath, Alex kicked the door open, revealing Novac with his cell phone pressed to his ear, requesting secure transportation for himself and his retrieved 'assignment', standing under a red 'Exit' sign.
"Alex! No!" shouted Claire when she saw her.
"Coming back for a second dose?" inquired Novac.
"Coming back to rid the world of you," replied Alex, her own voice replied in measured calm.
"Really?" responded Novac with false surprise.
"Really," answered Alex, squeezing the trigger in quick succession. Claire watched with a mix of relief and fear as the bullets brought Novac to the floor, a crimson puddle spreading beneath him.
In answer to her shots, bullets spun into the room from the hall. Novac's guards were coming as reinforcement. Alex grabbed Claire and pulled her against the wall where the guards couldn't get an angle on them. Shots continued to strike the walls around the room, the sound of the discharging firearms deafening the two women.
"Claire! Claire!" Alex shouted trying to get the other woman's attention and to be heard over the cacophony. "Get out of here!" she demanded.
Claire looked at her incredulously, "I won't leave you!" she replied, tremor evident in her voice.
"You don't have a choice. You saw him inject me Claire, I have less than 48 hours, and I am not going to die that way. Now run! I'll cover you!"
Claire's gaze was locked with Alex's. She was not going to lose another friend to this madness. "No! You have to come with me. I'll find a cure!" pleaded Claire.
"Claire, God damn it, get out of here!" screamed Alex, pushing the doctor away from her and out into the open. The first shots rang out and Claire ran for the door with Alex's defensive shots clearing the danger from her path. Alex saw Claire disappear through the doorway where she could find Agency personnel had been collected outside. She was safe. Checking her weapon she found she had three rounds left.
"Well this was a good idea," she muttered sarcastically, listening to the shots graze the wall that was giving her cover. "Now or never," she said to herself mirthlessly as she pulled the slide on her gun, she was going to at least inflict more pain before she died. "Momma loves you, James," she murmured as she stepped around her protective wall and faced her last decision.
Claire burst through the doorway into a crowd of Agency SWAT personnel, her commotion had them armed and aiming at her.
"Stand down! Stand down!" shouted Bobby when he saw Claire tumble through the door. "Where's Monroe?!"
"She wouldn't come, she's…she's still in there," panted Claire, tears streaking her face.
"Team two, prepare for entry!" commanded Bobby as appropriate members of the SWAT snapped to attention. Bobby was about to give the go when a rumble followed by an earth shaking blast erupted from the building.
"No!" screamed Claire as a Kevlar suited agent pulled her to the ground to avoid the projectiles from the explosion. Dust and ash clouded the air, making it nearly impossible to see and even harder to breathe. "Alex!" shouted Claire as she scrambled to push the agent off of her and move towards the wreckage.
"Claire! No!" shouted Bobby, grabbing her by the arm, keeping her from re-entering the ruins of the building.
"Bobby…Bobby…no! She's ok! She has to be!"
"Claire…you saw it, I saw it, and we know what would have happened. She didn't want to die like that. She died doing her job," Bobby said, trying to calm Claire and provide reasoning for Alex's actions.
"She died for me!" spat Claire bitterly. A brave woman died for her, and she didn't deserve that sort of sacrifice.
"She died for all of us, Claire," said Bobby grimly. Claire looked at her coworker, features hard and unreadable. Saying nothing she walked away, leaving Bobby to direct the other Agency agents.