Title: Deleri
Author: BethCarielle
See Chapter One for Disclaimer and Details.
Chapter Six
Adrian Harper ran through the hallways, dodging fellow employees and jumping stairs. He had no time; he had to get to Matt's lab now. He had seen the effects of APF and he had seen the condition of the caretaker, she had hours, if that. Crashing through a set of double doors that marked the beginning of the main research facility, Harper sprinted the last hall, finding himself in front of the key card access only sector, hermetically sealed against all possible contamination, internal or external.
Drawing his card through the scanner, Harper listened to the hiss as the first door depressurized and allowed him access. He stepped through and partially felt the change in atmosphere as he was sealed inside. Moving to the video com link on the opposite wall he called into the lab, gaining Matt's attention. The clear, though colorless, image of his long time friend wrapped from head to toe in a level four biohazard suit, coiled oxygen tube trailing behind him, appeared, question on his face.
"Harper?"
"Matt," panted Harper, "We gotta go. No time. Decontam now."
"What? Harper, what's going on?"
"You alone in there?"
"Yeah. Harper, tell me what's going on."
"I'm sorry Matt, Redlin sent Novac after Claire with your virus. She's ok, Novac's dead, and others, but he nabbed Dana, Matt."
"Christ," replied Matt, disbelief evident.
"Yeah, I don't know where Dana is, but I saw the Chrysalis caretaker, she doesn't have long," Harper explained, only to be greeted by a blank video screen. He heard the rushing of air exchange as Matt cycled through decontamination. Moments later Matt appeared in the small hall between the room with the com link and the decontamination showers. Dressed in slacks and a Polo type t-shirt Matt passed through the final door, features pale and hands clammy.
"He has Dana? How?"
"He hacked into Chrysalis, found out where she was being kept."
"Where is she now?" asked Matt as they cycled out of the last sealed door and into the hall Harper had sprinted down earlier.
"Redlin's got her in one of the observation rooms on S3. It works right?" asked Harper.
Matt gave him a sidelong glance, worry obvious on his face. "It works in test animals," the doctor explained.
Matthew Ashbury had been single handedly responsible for the creation of the virus bearing his name. Ashbury's Pneumorrhagic Fever, simply shortened to APF, had been Redlin's baby for two years. A highly virulent, 100% fatal virus that killed its victims in 48 hours. Harper still remembered when Matt had first arrived at the Stratagen complex.
Harper had watched his employer watch his latest acquisition with guarded curiosity when Matt had arrived. Harper had been part of Stratagen for four years at that point and knew Redlin's preferred drill. Torment the people he wanted into capitulating to his demands and then sequester them away from all they knew. Some broke, some turned and thrived, others still seemed to remain indifferent until Redlin decided they were no longer useful, calling in Mikhail Novac to 'fix' the problem.
Matthew Ashbury, Harper had read from the printout he had been handed, was a talented virologist who ended up in Redlin's clutches when it was discovered he was the father of Ellen Parker's daughter. Redlin's obsession for the last eight years had been finding and retrieving Ellen Parker, by any means necessary. Redlin had located her inside The Agency, which Harper had reported to his superiors immediately, but before The Agency could act, Redlin had uncovered the rest of Ellen's secrets and 'forcibly recruited', as the term read on the printout, Matthew Ashbury.
Harper had been assigned to be Matt's handler and used this position to his advantage by revealing himself to the doctor. With his Agency contacts outside Stratagen, Harper was able to reassure Matt that Claire, as he knew Ellen, and Dana were safe. In the six years Harper had known Matt, they had become close friends, a friendship tested by the success of Matt's work.
In the weeks after the virus's successful hybridization and proven lethality, Matt had sunk into a deep depression, the images of Redlin's 'test' subjects burned into his memory. Harper had been there, and pulled him out. Reminding him that if he created the virus, he could create an anti-viral against it. No one else knew the genome and protein structure like he did, considering he had designed it.
Taking Harper's words to heart, Matt had secretly developed a sialidase anti-viral. The serum proved effective in lab animals, but human testing had not been possible. He now hoped it would provide the same life saving properties in the Chrysalis caretaker…and his daughter. Matt's thoughts shifted back to present when Harper roughly jerked him aside, tucking them into a small alcove, out of view.
"Harper?" asked Matt, only to have Harper shush him. They remained silent and hidden as a contingent of people, Redlin's henchmen, passed their position.
Harper carefully looked around the wall hiding them and scanned the hall. Finding it empty, he drew Matt back into the passageway. Harper wasn't certain, but there was some chance that Redlin knew he wasn't exactly loyal to Stratagen. Silently he led them to Matt's private lab.
"Get what you need," Harper instructed and Matt hurried to a storage freezer in the rear of his lab.
Quickly sorting through racks of Eppendorf tubes, boxes of cultures and other paraphernalia, Matt located the anti-viral. He inverted the small vial a couple of times, checking it against the light, nodding in satisfaction.
Moving from the freezer, he gathered syringes and other items, placing them in pockets. Lastly, he placed the anti-viral in his front pants pocket where it would least likely be discovered. He turned to Harper and nodded.
Harper worked them through the compound, using minor hallways and a set of access tunnels that Matt hadn't known existed when he found himself standing outside another mirrored viewing window on sublevel three, an exact replica of the one he had stood on the other side of two years ago watching innocent people succumb to his virus. He slowed subconsciously, afraid to go near the window, the bloody images flooding his mind.
Harper felt his friend's reluctance and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's ok, Matt, she still has a chance."
Matt nodded and moved closer to the window. Inside was a young woman, caught deep in a coughing spasm that left a trickle of blood flowing from her mouth. She was well into the second stage of APF, but not yet terminal, or so he hoped.
"Where are the guards?" Matt asked suddenly, realizing they were alone in the viewing room.
"I handled them," replied Harper gruffly. Matt didn't need to know what he had done.
Matt nodded and moved towards the door that led into the observation room.
"What are you doing?" asked Harper, voice urgent and confused.
"Going in there," replied Matt matter-of-factly.
"You can't."
"The virus doesn't aerosolize. It needs a host environment," Matt explained, pulling on a pair of latex gloves that had appeared from a pocket.
Harper nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. He watched Matt open the door and move towards the woman. Even in her weakened state she took a defensive posture having been trained to defend her charges with her life if need be.
"What did you do with Dana?" she rasped, tracking Matt's movements warily.
"We're trying to find her. I'm here to help," said Matt, slowly withdrawing a hypodermic and fishing the anti-viral from his pocket.
"Why should I believe you?" asked the woman, backing away from him.
"Because Dana is my daughter," Matt whispered. The woman remained silent, eyes speaking volumes and she tried to decide whether or not to believe him. Matt readied a dose of the anti-viral, estimating her body weight to be somewhere between 120-135 pounds, indicating about 8ccs.
"Don't touch me!" the woman warned, moving to protect herself once more. Matt took another step closer and the caretaker lunged in for an attack, the sudden movement triggering another coughing spasm. Matt took advantage of her defenseless state and deftly injected the serum into her upper arm, foregoing sterility procedures. The woman gasped, terror and anger painting her features. As Matt stooped to check the woman's pulse there was a rapid pounding on the window. He turned to the mirrored surface and then saw the door crack open, revealing Harper.
"Redlin's on his way. He can't know I'm here. You'll be ok," he said, shutting the door and leaving the viewing room.
Matt stood paralyzed, used syringe and the vial of anti-viral in his hands. Quickly, he slipped the vial back into his pocket and left the room, dropping the syringe in a waste basket. He stood calmly in the viewing room, looking thoughtfully through the glass when Redlin accompanied by two others entered.
"Doctor! What are you doing here?"
"I had heard that there was another APF infection. I wanted to watch the progression. I might have found a way to aerosolize the virus," replied Matt. He had learned years ago to pretend to be on Redlin's agenda.
"Aerosolize?" asked Redlin.
"Airborne transfer, if one person becomes infected, others can become infected through the aerosolized droplets," explained Matt patiently.
Redlin nodded a slight smile at his mouth. That would be useful for large populations. "Good, Doctor, good. I'll expect a full report as soon as possible."
"Yes sir." Matt listened as Redlin gave instructions to his men, including that he should receive whatever he might request to further his research, and watched him leave, taking his men with him. Still standing in the viewing room, Matt released a shaky breath and leaned against the window, trying to calm his nerves. The door clicked open and he startled, spinning around to face whoever was entering. Harper stood in the doorway, a pale, resolute expression on his face.
"Harper, what is it?"
"I found Dana."
Matt's breath caught in his throat. He watched Harper enter the room and go to the window, focusing on the woman within.
"Is she…"
"No. But she's worse than her," he said, indicating the caretaker.
"Where is she?"
"Down the hall, smaller observation room. She's unconscious, but her pulse was still steady," reported Harper. "I can get her out," added Harper quietly. He turned to face Matt, seeing the fleeting hope cross his face.
"Are you sure?"
"Promise."
Matt nodded, retrieving a syringe from his lab coat pocket. "Take me to her," he commanded, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.
Harper nodded and led the way from the viewing room, taking Matt down a short hallway to a smaller room.
Matt stepped through the door and to the mirrored window. A small figure, dark hair splayed under her head like a gossamer pillow, lay on the floor's padding. A bright red stain spread from her lips and across one cheek, ending in drops on the white floor.
"She was probably infected at the same time as the caretaker, she's just smaller," said Matt with a clinical detachment. He slipped the anti-viral vial from his pants pocket and inverted it twice, holding it to the light. He frowned at the slight crystallization caused by the heat of having it in his pocket. The solution degradation wasn't enough to damage it.
Matt inverted the vial a few more times, re-suspending the crystals, and drew up a dose. He opened the door to the observation room and moved to Dana's side. She whimpered when he moved her, unfolding an arm and swabbing an area with alcohol. Grimly, he slid the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger, watching the clear liquid disappear under the pressure.
"Jenny," she murmured, tossing her head as she varied between consciousness and unconsciousness. Matt gently stroked her face, noting she was feverish.
"Harper," Matt called, beckoning the other man into the room.
Harper entered, still wary of infection, and came to Matt's side.
"She's febrile, no wonder she was unconscious. When can you get her out of here?"
Harper glanced at his watch. "The guards make a pass in 10 minutes. I need to make one phone call and then I can get her out," he replied.
Matt nodded, glancing again at his daughter, amazed by her resemblance to him.
"You better get back to the other observation room," instructed Harper, indicating there wasn't much time before the guards would be checking on him.
"Right," said Matt, trying to force himself to be calm. He bent down to Dana and stroked her hair once more. "I love you, sweetheart," he murmured before pushing himself away.
"Harper…Adrian, I don't know how to thank you, for everything," Matt said, watching his friend rise from the floor as well.
"It'll all work out, Matt, it always does. I'll be back, you can handle Redlin. I know you can," said Harper as he led the way to the door, ushering Matt from the room and back down the hall.
Matt took once last glance at Dana as he was propelled away and reined in his thoughts. He was going to have to focus on being one of Redlin's monsters for awhile. They reached the first observation room and Matt looked through the glass. The woman was on the far side of the room, curled around herself shaking so hard he could see the vibration from where he stood.
"I'll see you, Matt," said Harper as he turned to leave the viewing room.
"Harper! Wait. Here, take this," said Matt, pressing the anti-viral vial into Harper's hand. "Claire can make more." Harper nodded and left the room. Matt located a clipboard and pulled up a chair, settling into his act, Redlin would expect notes.
Harper
hurried down the hall, returning to a small unused office he had located
earlier. He pulled out his cell phone
and called his Agency contact, it was going to be a hard trip, but there was a
light at the end of the tunnel.
As he clapped the phone shut,
he heard the rhythm of footsteps in the hall.
He looked at his watch, guards were right on time. Waiting until he could no longer hear them,
he slipped from the office and made his way back to Dana's observation
room.
Carefully, he opened the door, crossed the viewing room, and entered the observation room. Dana had woken and was now crying, tears mixing with the blood she was coughing up.
"Dana?" he asked quietly, not wanting to startle her.
"Jenny," came to plaintive wail. Harper had assumed that the caretaker down the hall must be Jenny.
"Shh, Jenny's not here. I'm Harper," he said, hunkering down to her level. Dana looked at him with piercing blue eyes, much like her father's. "A good doctor gave you some medicine that's going to make you feel better, but we can't stay here," Harper continued, trying to keep her calm.
"Where's Jenny?" asked Dana softly, lucidity overcoming the fever.
"Jenny's getting better too. You'll see her later. But you know what?" Dana shook her head slightly, "We're going to go see your mommy," said Harper. "But you have to be very quiet, ok?" Dana nodded and coughed, bringing more blood to her lips, which she wiped away with a frightened look.
"You're going to be alright," said Harper, picking her up not caring about possible infection anymore. She melded to his shoulder and he backed out of the room. He was amazed and a little frightened by how hot she was where her face rested against his neck.
He took them deeper into the sublevel, nearing what was mostly utility access. He keyed open a door with a guard's keycard he had liberated earlier and brought them into a narrow repair access. He walked quickly and silently, knowing that this particular tunnel reached a set of stairs that opened to a storm drain at the edge of the compound. That would then be the most dangerous part, getting them away from the compound unseen.
Harper reached the cement stairs and began his ascent, stopping at landings to listen for any sounds of company. He reached the surface and keyed open that door, surprised by the burst of cool air. He felt Dana shiver and tried to keep her close. He walked along the now dry cement heading to the square of light at the end that was freedom. He neared the end of the tunnel and carefully set Dana down about fifteen feet from the mouth.
"I'll be right back," he said, squeezing her hand. He walked to the mouth of the drain and cautiously looked around, trying to spot any guards or patrols. Once he was satisfied there was no one about, he returned to Dana.
"This is where you have to be very quiet and very still, ok?" Dana nodded and tightened her hold. He walked to the mouth of the drain and looked around again, double checking. Silently, trying to stay in the shadows, he crossed the open expanse that lead away from the buildings behind him. Stratagen technically owned most of the area but once he reached the perimeter road they would be safe.
The walk was long, longer than Harper had originally estimated. He had forgotten Dana would act almost as dead weight in her state. He continued, only once bringing them to the ground when he thought he heard an engine. When nothing came of it, he decided it must have been an echo.
In the distance he could see the winding strip of dirt road, and as he continued to draw closer, the small speck that was an Agency vehicle. Seeing success in sight, Harper quickened his pace. He covered the last of the distance, coming into view of the other agents.
"Stop! Federal Agent, identify yourself," a voice commanded.
"Agent Adrian Harper, number 3245072384, currently embedded inside the Stratagen biological company," replied Harper calmly.
"Welcome back, Agent Harper," said a familiar voice and he turned to see Bobby Hobbes standing next to the vehicle. "How is she?" he asked, indicating Dana.
"Burning up, she needs water," said Harper, moving to the car and setting Dana in the back seat.
"Water we can do," replied Bobby, "now let's get you two out of here," he continued, climbing into the front passenger seat of the car as Harper climbed into the back next to Dana.
Harper reached out to take the bottle of water that Bobby held out to him and screwed off the cap. He turned to Dana tilting her head up and holding the bottle to her lips.
"Come on, Dana, you need to drink," Harper urged. She whimpered and turned away from the bottle. He tried again and managed to get her to sip at the moisture.
"There's a plane waiting to take off for San Diego in Odessa. We'll be at the airport in 30 minutes," reported Bobby, watching Harper trying to get Dana to drink.
"Does Claire know?" Harper asked setting the water bottle down.
"No," was the succinct answer. Bobby watched Harper tear a strip of material from a towel and wet it with water, gently placing it on Dana's forehead. This was the first time Bobby had seen Dana outside of the Chrysalis compound, and that had been two years ago, a year after he'd been recruited by The Agency.
Bobby had been recruited away from the FBI in 1999 and had been trained to replace Harper inside Stratagen when the QS-9300 project had come to fruition. His superiors decided he was more useful in a guarding position for the new subject in San Diego where he would be working with Ellen Parker and could later be placed in Stratagen once the QS-9300 project has become settled. His placement and previous training also allowed him to become Harper's contact. Now things had gone to hell again and he was in charge of getting Dana back to San Diego to see her mother since there was no known cure for the virus with which she had been infected.
He watched the girl breathe, seeing the strain that came with every breath. She couldn't possibly have much time left. Claire thought Dana was gone and it seemed that she wasn't far from the truth. Bobby glanced at his watch, 10 minutes until they made the airport and then an hour and half flight to San Diego. They were going to be cutting it close.
Matt looked to the respiratory monitor linked to the Chrysalis caretaker, he had convinced Redlin that in order to change the genetic code of the virus he needed to have detailed notes on its current effects on the human body. The machine beeped and he watched as the numbers dropped only to return to normal and remain steady. The woman was well within the third and terminal stage of infection but thanks to the anti-viral, the viral progression had stopped before it became life threatening.
No longer at the hands of Redlin's mercy, the caretaker has been placed in a smaller room with a bed and the equipment Matt had requested. He had remained in her room, encased in gown, gloves, and mask watching monitors and taking notes, playing his villain role well.
The caretaker had remained unconscious from not long after the administration of the anti-viral and although it didn't worry Matt, she should have been regaining consciousness soon. He moved to her side and checked her pupils with his penlight. The irises contracted normally and he turned to pick up his stethoscope, placing it to her chest. He listened carefully; the wet crackles and rales hadn't decreased as much as they should have by now.
"Davila," Matt called as he completed a blood draw, smoothing a label onto the tube. "Take this to my lab, I want a complete viral count immediately," he instructed the aid who entered the room from the hall.
"Yes sir," the young man replied and left with the tube encased in a Ziploc bag and carried gingerly down the hall. People were afraid of the virus and rightly so.
Matt turned his attention back to the woman, watching her thoughtfully. He checked the O2 saturation, one canine worrying his lower lip, not high enough to be normal. He adjusted the finger lead just as she started coughing, more blood coming to her lips. Bright red, not the darker blood that he had seen in the last few hours that was from the first ruptures, this was a new rupture. He grabbed the stethoscope again and followed the rales up her lungs; there had to be a hemorrhage on the left side, slowly drowning her.
The respiration monitor released a shrill chirp as she started to arrest, blood choking her throat and flooding her lungs. The virus hadn't been stopped Matt realized, slowed yes, but not stopped. It had reached the terminal point when the pneumorrhagia became too massive for the body to cope with it. She may die in a few minutes, it might stretch out for hours while her body fought and lost.
"Damn it," Matt cursed as he suctioned away blood and opened an intubation tray. He deftly inserted the tube and increased the oxygen flow, hoping to give her a chance but knowing it was a lost cause.
"Sir! Lab results," Davila spoke up behind him. Matt grabbed the print out, trying to keep the shock off his face. The viral load looked as though the anti-viral had never been introduced.
"Go back, tell them to run a hydrolased glycoprotein screen," demanded Matt. He needed to know why this anti-viral didn't work.
"That's for anti-viral screening sir."
"Just do it!" shouted Matt, hovering over the caretaker. It didn't work, and Dana had been worse when he had given her the anti-viral. It would only buy her a couple more hours, and now he didn't have a contact, he had no way to tell Claire.
"I thought you said we had time," Bobby demanded of Harper over the roar of the jet engines, wiping more blood away from Dana's mouth.
"We do. Matt gave her the anti-viral, it just takes time," replied Harper, equally agitated, hoping his words were correct.
Bobby had been surprised to learn there was an anti-viral against APF and relieved when Harper had told him Matt had given both the caretaker and Dana a dose, but now Dana had deteriorated on the flight to San Diego from which they were only 20 minutes away.
"What if we gave her more?" asked Bobby. Harper had told him about the vial Matt had given him before he left.
Harper looked from the other agent to Dana, seeing the effort it took her to breathe. It might work. "Need a needle," he replied.
Bobby got up from his seat, and moved to the rear of the small plane, retrieving a kit from a cabinet. He flipped open the clasps and pulled out a hypodermic. "Fawkes has never flown on the plane but we're always ready," explained Bobby, handing the syringe to Harper.
Harper took the needle with shaking hands, trying to remember how much Matt had first given her. He inverted the vial as he had seen Matt do and uncapped the needle and drew up what seemed to be the same amount.
Hands still shaking, he moved to Dana's side, pushing up her shirt sleeve. He took the alcohol wipe Bobby handed him and swabbed her arm. "Sorry kid, haven't done this in a while," muttered Harper as he stuck the needle into her arm and depressed the plunger. Dana cried out weakly, bringing more blood to her lips.
"Sirs? We're closing in on the airport, priority landing. Any assistance needed?"
"Yes! Have an ambulance waiting, infectious disease protocols in place. Need police escort to the Rothe Building," Bobby instructed the pilot who radioed his orders to the flight tower. He couldn't call ahead from the plane on his cell phone because it could interrupt the radio transmissions and Bobby prayed that Claire was on the premises.
The small jet landed with a thump, jostling its passengers and eliciting a cry from Dana. Harper gathered her up in a blanket and Bobby opened the hatch, bright southern California sun pouring into the cabin. Bobby hurried down the stairs running to the ambulance and its sterilely clad personnel.
Harper followed close behind, handing Dana up to Bobby who placed her on the stretcher as attendants swarmed over her. The coughing and amount of blood had lessened and Harper assumed that the anti-viral was taking effect again as he climbed into the back of the ambulance.
The ambulance sped through the San Diego streets, taking them to the Rothe Building in record time. Bobby threw open the doors and rushed to the door, keying it open. Agents Thorsrud and MacKinnon snapped to attention at the commotion and Bobby instructed them to clear the halls to The Keep.
Harper followed Bobby, Dana in his arms. She was unconscious again, head resting against his chest, the blood from her lungs soaking into his shirt. He realized both he and Bobby had been directly exposed, although the others were relatively safe since Matt was positive the virus didn't aerosolize. Moving into the recesses of the Rothe Building, they neared The Keep. Bobby slid his keycard through the port and the heavy door moved aside with a groan. Claire looked up from her computer monitor, weary frustration creasing her features.
"Bobby?" she asked confusion evident.
"It's ok; Claire, she's here, but you gotta help her. Harper thinks the anti-viral doesn't work," explained Bobby, as Harper passed him, moving to the examining chair with his bundle.
"Who's here? Help who?" asked Claire, watching Harper settle the blanket wrapped figure. A small blanket wrapped figure she realized. She moved to the examining chair, a sweeping rush of adrenaline flowing through her when Harper turned back the corner of the blanket revealing Dana's face.
Matt looked over the latest set of lab reports on the virus in the caretaker's system, disgustedly frustrated with the failure of his anti-viral. The aides that had been assigned him had wrapped, bagged, and removed the caretaker's body, taking it down to the incinerator to destroy any evidence of Redlin's guilt.
Matt's only hope at the moment was that Harper had gotten Dana to Claire in time for her to realize the sialidase wasn't working completely. According to the test results, only free viruses were affected by the anti-viral. It didn't prevent the replication inside the host cell, so for every one virus that managed to infect a cell, hundreds more were produced, the anti-viral couldn't keep up.
He gathered up the half true notes he had made for Redlin and left the room. As he walked down the hall an ear piercing klaxon reverberated through the sublevel. Matt clapped his hands to his ears and felt himself shoved into a wall as a barrage of guards ran past, down the hall to the room where Dana had been held.
He turned to continue down the hall when a hand rested on his shoulder, "Dr. Ashbury? I'm Dr. Claudia Serrano, we need to talk."
Claire checked the hydrolization of the anti-viral for what had to be the hundredth time in the last hour. So far it was working piggy-backed on a viral neutralization agent which allowed it enough time to destroy the free viruses.
She was still running on an adrenaline high that threatened to make her faint as she moved to Dana's side once more, drawing a small tube of blood for a viral load count. She reached up to brush the dark hair away from her daughter's face, something she hadn't been able to do for the last two years. Claire wished she was conscious, but with being intubated the sedation was necessary. Forcing herself to process the blood sample she moved away from the bed.
She heard a cough and turned to see Harper caught in a spasm. She had run a viral pathology screen on him and found the virus in its early stages in his system from his contact with Dana. She had given him a dose of the anti-viral as soon as she had been able to restructure it. Harper's earlier guess that the anti-viral wasn't working had been correct. She had examined what was left of the vial Harper had and quickly realized that the basis and theory behind it was sound it just didn't work inside the host cell and thus couldn't keep up with the viral replication. Adding a viral neutralizer to the serum prevented new host cell infection and allowed the sialidase to work. She had run a viral pathology on Bobby was well and found no infection, but gave him a dose as well in case the virus hadn't enough time to show up in the blood work.
"How's she doing, Keep?" asked Darien. He had followed Bobby and Harper into The Keep after their rather noisy and hasty arrival.
"Better, Dahrien, better. It's going to be a struggle for her body to repair itself, but the prognosis is good," replied Claire, as she watched the ventilator gently force air into the small body.
"And Bobby and uh, Harper?"
"They're both fine."
"Hey, Fawkes," Bobby called across The Keep, summoning his partner. Darien squeezed Claire's hand and covered the small distance of the new lab to Harper's bedside.
"The Official wants us to get Ashbury," Bobby began.
"Ashbury? Matthew Ashbury?" asked Claire incredulously from Dana's bedside.
Harper pressed his lips together in a grim line, "Matt's been inside Stratagen for the last six years, Claire. That's where the anti-viral came from."
Claire digested this information. "How could he create the anti-viral, this virus has a very unique protein structure, unless…no, he wouldn't," she said determinedly.
"APF, Ashbury's Pneumorrhagic Fever. It wasn't his fault Claire. Redlin threatened him; it tore him up knowing he created something so horrible. That's why he made the anti-viral," explained Harper.
"People have died. Agents, innocents, Dana, he almost killed Dana," said Claire, voice ending in a whisper, shaking her head.
"It wasn't his fault, Claire," said Harper again, another cough spasm hitting him.
Claire remained silent, sitting at Dana's side, holding her hand.
"Anyways," Bobby began again, "Harper's in no shape to extract Ashbury so you and I are on it Fawkes. The bad news is we have to get into Stratagen; the good news is we might not have to go very far. Harper's told me how he got Dana out and one Dr. Serrano is currently cultivating Matt as we speak."
"Serrano? Claudia Serrano?" asked Harper.
"Yes," answered Bobby.
"When did you guys flip her? I know I reported her as a mole, but you never told me you managed to flip her," said Harper.
"Amazing what a few years of jail time hanging over your head will do," commented Darien dryly.
"We flipped her about a year ago. She's been working for us, feeding Redlin just enough information to keep him interested without endangering the assignment. She doesn't know about you Harper, or Dana, or Claire. She was placed here to get information about the QS-9300 Project, which she does know about. Now that we need to get Ashbury out of Stratagen, she's gone back since Redlin still trusts her and she's supposed to make contact when she has Ashbury," explained Bobby.
"So, let me guess. We go in under the radar," said Darien, Quicksilvering a hand to indicate his point and catching the shocked look on Harper's face, "And get Ashbury and Serrano out of the compound."
"Exactly."
"I'll be needing a shot then and probably one for the road," replied Darien, holding up his right wrist displaying the five red segments.
Bobby turned to Claire and saw that she was already preparing a syringe to go and another one for now. She came to Darien's side and prepped the inside of his elbow and neatly slid the needle into the exposed vein. Darien grimaced as the Counteragent hit his system, taking a deep breath waiting for the shock to settle.
"When do we leave?" asked Darien through gritted teeth.
"Now, my friend," replied Bobby.
"Who are you?" asked Matt warily.
"Like I said, Dr. Claudia Serrano. I'm here to get you out."
"You're with The Agency too?"
"I was actually sent to The Agency as a spy. Let's say they made me an offer I couldn't refuse and now I work for them. Now, let's get out of here," she said, grabbing him by the hand.
"Where are we going?" asked Matt, panic showing in his voice as he realized she was pulling him towards the direction where the guards had run to earlier.
"There's access to a storm drain from here, or so I've been told."
Matt followed reluctantly, sticking with Serrano in the shadows and walking as quietly as possible, shedding his lab coat to aid in his attempt. They found themselves at a locked engineering access.
Claudia slid a keycard through the port and the door clicked open. Matt walked single file behind Claudia, ducking some of the lower pipes. This must have been how Harper had removed Dana. Matt's heart tightened and his breath caught when he thought of Dana. He still had no idea if Claire had been successful in treating her. They began to ascend a staircase, the cement steps absorbing the sound of their soft footfalls.
"We're supposed to make the perimeter road and if they're not there, keep going," whispered Serrano from in front of Matt as she unlocked a second door. Matt felt the gush of cool air as the door opened and he realized they were indeed in a storm drain. He saw the square of light that was the mouth of the drain and followed Claudia towards it.
"We're not going to be there in time," said Darien, checking his watch. The flight back to Odessa and the 30 minute drive from the airport seemed to stretch on for eternity.
"Serrano has her orders," said Bobby.
"Two unarmed doctors," said Darien, stressing the occupational word, "Trying to escape these Stratagen people in the middle of nowhere? Why am I not reassured?"
"They'll be fine Fawkes," answered Bobby gruffly. His partner was voicing the same worries he felt.
Matt and Claudia reached the mouth of the tunnel, the cool night air causing them both to shiver. They stepped out cautiously, well aware of the exposed land around them. They were completely vulnerable. Claudia set out first, walking resolutely across the dirt populated by a few low shrubs.
Matt followed more tentatively, some gut feeling telling him this was wrong, this was too easy. Just as his mind settled on the word trap, the area around them was flooded with glaring light and they were commanded to stop.
Claudia turned to Matt, "Sorry," she said quietly with anything but apology on her face.
Matt bit back a couple of curses and capitulated to the patrol's demands. Kneeling in the dirt with his hands now secured behind his back he saw Claudia talking with one of the men he recognized from the group that had rushed to the room Dana had been in when it was discovered she was gone.
"Where is she?" a voice commanded, one Matt recognized as Redlin's.
Matt remained quiet, staring straight ahead.
"I said, where is she?" he demanded a second time. When Matt still refused to answer, Redlin made a small gesture with his hand and Matt felt the sharp impact of a heavy boot meeting with his side.
Matt lay curled in dirt, unable to defend himself beyond his fetal position with his hands cuffed behind him. Blows rained on him, sharp kicks connecting with his ribs, back, and face. He could taste the blood filling his mouth from split lips and broken nose. A mild command from Redlin stopped the assault and Matt drew a painful breath.
"Where is she, Ashbury?" asked Redlin again, coming into his view. Matt caught the sight of a hypodermic in Redlin's hand. "Tell me where she is, Ashbury," Redlin threatened again, stabbing the needle into Matt's biceps. Matt jerked at the pain, the burning sensation spreading throughout his arm. Matt tried to jerk away from the hypodermic when a shot rang out, followed by a pained groan and the thud of dead weight hitting the ground.
"Federal Agent! Drop your weapons!" commanded Bobby.
Claudia ran for Bobby's side, skillfully played panic and innocence on her face, "They ambushed us," she shouted.
"Traitorous bitch," yelled Redlin, firing three well aimed shots at Serrano. She fell and was still, blood pooling around her.
More shots crashed through the air, striking flesh and shattering bone. Two more of Redlin's patrol dropped to the ground as Redlin himself ran for and ducked into a waiting vehicle. The car sped away in a volley of gunfire, somehow unharmed. Another guard found himself tripped and punched by an unseen force, eventually ending up heaped on the ground.
"Fawkes? Where are you partner?" called Bobby as he secured the three remaining conscious guards with cuffs. Darien shimmered into view, Quicksilver flaking off of him. "Check him," Bobby instructed, nodding towards Matt as he cuffed the one unconscious man. Darien moved to Matt's side, keying the cuffs open and rolling the man from his face down position. He sputtered and spit out a mouthful of blood before sitting up.
"Dana?"
"She's with Claire," answered Darien, helping the doctor to his feet.
"She's ok?" asked Matt with disbelief. "The anti-viral, it doesn't work."
"Claire fixed it. Dana's ok," repeated Darien as he directed him towards Bobby.
"Agent Hobbes," said Bobby, nodding towards Matt, who had removed his torn and bloody shirt in order to use it to stem his nosebleed.
"Matthew Ashbury," replied Matt thickly.
"I know. Come on, you're going home."