Working Title: Life's Chances
Sequel to "State of Mind" which can be found at http://www.fawkesyandhobbesy.com/alli_lori_index.htm
Author: Lori with a little help from Alli
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or basic story lines of "The Invisible Man". If there are any similarities of any person, real or fictional, dead or alive and any plot similarities to any current fics posted, being written or is currently floating around in someone's head is purely a coincidence. I'm certainly not getting paid for this at all. So why do it? Cause I want to keep the best scifi series alive.
Description: No Name is back and has a weapon of his own to destroy the Agency once and for all. Darien must fight an enemy to keep his own sanity intact and save a friend.
Chapter 1
"You know that ol' sayin' that goes, 'things happen for a reason'? Here's the thing, I've never really believed that, I mean what could be the reason for my mom dying and my dad leaving Kevin and me? So we could go live with Uncle Pete and Aunt Celia? I can't find a reason good enough for me on that one. So, what's the reason for me getting a gland in my head and losing Casey, Kate and Allianora? That, I'm about to find out."
A grey toned world is what Darien saw as he made his way to the house. His heart pounded so hard that it was no problem keeping him under the protective coating of invisibility. He walked slowly and quietly up to the house. Careful not to make any noise, he took each step slowly up the steps to the back of the house until he reached the top. Now was the tricky part, time to walk across the wooden planks of the old house. As a kid he had known every creek his Uncle and Aunt's house made and he knew what parts of the porch to avoid.
But this house was new to him. Like a soldier making his way through a mind field, he carefully put his weight on each foot and slowly, methodically made advancement on the unsuspecting terrorists.
Hobbes sat in the back of the van, sweating bullets. This was a very dangerous mission. So dangerous, that Fawkes was ordered to wear a bullet proof vest. Of course, he complained that it wouldn't protect his head, but agreed none-the-less. He held the earpiece close to his ear and heard every breath that came out of Fawkes' mouth. Silently, almost trying to communicate with Fawkes through his mind, he coached his partner along. 'Nice and easy, Fawkesy, that's it, take your time,' Hobbes thought to himself, not wanting to say anything out loud fearing that he might scare Fawkes and blow the whole thing. Not to mention get Fawkes killed.
Claire and a team of cleared medical personnel waited in a truck a few blocks away. Inside the truck resembled a trauma center that any hospital would be envious of and on the outside, the truck resembled a UPS delivery truck. If Claire was in the habit of biting her nails, she probably would be at this point. The whole team sat in an eerie silence.
Darien tried to peak through the back window but all the shades were drawn. From what they learned from the FBI debriefing, the terrorists mainly kept to one of the back rooms. Darien took a deep breath, held it and turned the knob.
Hobbes radioed to Claire, "Keep, he's going in."
Claire held her hands together, "Dahrien," her ascent drawing out the 'r' to sound more like an 'h' was in his name, "Please be careful."
The knob turned in Darien's hand all the way around revealing to him that the door was not locked. Darien silently said to himself, 'I don't like this. The door is unlocked.'
'This isn't good, my friend.' Hobbes thought to himself. All he could hear was Darien's heavy breathing. 'Take it easy, Fawkes. I don't need you hyperventilating on me.'
Darien poked his head in to get a look inside to see if the coast was clear, all was quiet inside the house, too quiet. He opened the door a little more and squeezed his thin frame between the door and the frame. Darien closed the door quietly. If he left it opened a terrorist might see it and the whole operation is over before it could get started.
"Bobby," Claire said in an anxious tone, "Tell me." She hated the wait and wanted this to be over with. All Darien was supposed to do was go inside and report what was going inside the house. The FBI assured the Official that Fawkes was in no danger and for a precaution, they supplied the medical truck. Little comfort that gave Claire, she hoped they wouldn't need it.
Darien walked through the kitchen into living room, noticing pictures of Hussein, Arafat, Gadafi and Bin Laden on the wall. 'Hmm…welcome to the wall of the world's great humanitarians,' he thought to himself. Darien made his way to the back of the house. There he found a door slightly opened. He peeked inside and saw six dead terrorists. Darien opened the door a little more to get a better look, "Ah crap." Darien started to feel a little drowsy and his breathing became a little raspy.
Hobbes noticed the way Darien was breathing, "Fawkes, you okay there, partner? What happened?"
"I don't know, Hobbes, but I think they're all dead."
"FAWKES!!! Get out of there!!!!" Hobbes yelled. He threw his earpiece down, opened up the door and leaped from the van. He held his walkie talkie to his mouth and shouted, "Abort mission…I repeat…abort mission!" At his command, agents came out of hiding and descended upon the house.
Darien stumbled from the front door. He staggered towards the stairs, the quicksilver flaked off and his vision was extremely blurred. He couldn't see very well to gauge his footing; he missed the first step and tumbled down the steps to the walkway.
By the time Hobbes got to Darien, he started to convulse. "Get the Keeper here now!!!" Hobbes barked as he frantically ripped Darien's shirt off. "Don't do this, Fawkes. You hear me, damn it, don't do this!" Hobbes watched with horror as Darien gasped for air and then stopped breathing. "NO!!" Hobbes felt for a pulse, it was weak. He unfastened the bullet proof vest and bent his head to feel and watch for any signs of breathing, there was none. He tilted Darien's head back using the chin lift method, pinched his nose shut and started breathing for Darien. Hobbes watched Darien's chest rise and fall back down. "Come on, damn it…breathe!"
The truck raced across the lawn and came to a stop. Claire and the team jumped out from the back of the truck, "What the hell happened?" Claire shouted.
"I don't know, he came out, fell and stopped breathing." Hobbes looked at her, "He's not gonna die is he, Claire?"
Claire assessed Darien and said to one of nurses, "We need to intubate him now!" She looked at Hobbes with apprehension on her face. Hobbes understand that look, she wasn't going to promise something she couldn't keep. He sat back and let the medical team do their job.
Claire inserted a breathing tube down Darien's throat. One of the nurses attached an ambu bag to the tube and started to squeeze it, forcing much needed air into Darien's lungs. Claire kept a close eye on his rising and falling chest. She checked his vitals then his eyes, "1mm in diameter…let's give him 1g of pralidoxime iodide."
"What happened to him, Claire?" Hobbes asked.
"Bobby, I'm not sure, but I would say he inhaled some type of poison gas," replied Claire. Uncertainty was clearly in her voice as she continued to work on Darien. She really wasn't sure, but all indications seem to point that way. The tests will reveal what really happened and if it was poison gas, what kind was it and who released it in the house?
Agents rushed around trying to secure the area and while Hobbes watched Claire call out orders. Everyone was so concerned about what may have happened and the attempt to save Darien's life that no one noticed the bushes move as if someone had pushed through, invisible.
~*~
Across town hours later, Marek Schmitt, a tall brown haired man of medium build sat in the chair across from No Name. His legs were crossed and his fingers moved around like he was playing a piano on his knee.
No Name was reading the report from the mission earlier at the terrorists hideout, "Things went well then on your first field mission?"
"Yes, sir it did," Marek smiled, "They never saw me coming."
~*~
Lab 4 normally was quiet but on this day, the room was filled with the sounds of medical equipment. Claire rushed around checking tapes as machines spit them out, reading test results and spent most of the time mumbling to herself.
Claire looked down at Darien, "Do your eyes still hurt?"
Darien nodded. He was still intubated, his lungs were still too weak to work on their own. Claire frowned at her patient. She had seen Darien's sad puppy eye look before, but this was different, he was in pain and it showed.
"Is your vision still blurred?"
Darien nodded. Claire wrote down some notes.
"How about the headache, still have it?"
Darien nodded again. This time his eyes pleaded with her. He couldn't see her very well, but he knew she was there. Claire turned to one of the nurses and gave orders for intravenous medication at certain intervals. She patted Darien on his arm, "I have to go see the Official for a few minutes, I'll be back I promise. You're going to be fine, Darien. These people here will take care of you until I back." She smiled and watched him try to smile back. "Just try to relax, okay sweetheart?" She reached over and grabbed a few tissues. She wiped the clear fluid that leaked from his nose. Claire tossed the tissue in the garbage. Before she left, she wrote in his chart, "Rhinorrhea". She left Darien in good hands and went to the Official's office to give her report.
Upstairs, Hobbes sat in the Official's office giving a verbal report of what happened during the mission. Hobbes answered the questions but his mind was on his partner, his friend fighting for his life in lab 4. He kicked himself for letting Darien go in, this should never had happened.
"So when did you notice that something was wrong?" The Official asked with a genuine sound of concern in his voice.
Hobbes raised a brow to the tone, "Fawkes was able to open the front door. It wasn't locked sir."
"Hmmm…what happened next?"
"Well, Fawkes went in," Hobbes paused to make a mental note of the events, "He was in for maybe five minutes, no more than then ten. He went to that back room like the F…B…I…said the terrorists would be," his tone noted distain for that agency, "Fawkes opened the door…said 'ah crap', that's when I noticed something was wrong."
"By the way he said 'ah crap'?" The Official asked.
"That's affirmative sir…you see, Fawkes has a certain way of saying 'ah crap' depending upon the situation, I've come to know them all sir." Hobbes proceeded to give the Official examples of the different tones of Darien's voice.
The Official barked in annoyance, "Thank you, Bobby, now get to the point!"
"Oh yes, sir, anyway as I was saying. This time it was different almost agitated and his breathing became different. He then told me that all the terrorists were dead. That's when I yelled to him to get out and aborted the mission."
"Eberts, go see if Claire can come in here and give a report on Darien's condition."
"Right away, sir." Eberts no sooner got to the door and it opened. He watched as Claire walked in, exhaustion written all over her face. "Oh," Eberts turned towards the Official, "Here she is."
"Thank you, Eberts…good job as usual." The Official looked at Claire, "Well."
"Darien is going to be fine. Bobby saved his life by starting CPR quickly." Claire smiled at Hobbes. "His symptoms are numerous, miosis…"
"Miosis? Sorry, doctor but can you clarify?" The Official asked.
"Its pupil constriction, it has to do with the oculomotor nerve. I had to give him diazepam to control the convulsions. He vomited when we got him here. His Cholinesterase levels were low." Claire noted the confused looks, "It's not important, but the levels were dangerously low. I put him on medication to raise the ChE levels. I'll know if it's working when I get the blood tests back. He was conscious when I left but he's still unable to breathe on his own. I have him on ventilation and I would say he is still in critical condition, but his chances of survival are increasing as he responds to treatment." Claire sat down, "He suffered respiratory failure due to central nervous system involvement, a nicotinic effect on the respiratory muscles, and or a muscarinic effect on the smooth muscle and secretory glands of the airway, resulted in bronchoconstriction and excess bronchial secretion."
"What caused this?" The Official asked. He gave her a look that meant that he really wasn't interested in the medical specifics of Darien's diagnosis.
"I'm waiting for some toxicology tests but I would say some type of nerve gas. The symptoms that he had are consistent with exposure to sarin nerve gas." Claire looked at Hobbes. She knew he had recognized the name just by the expression on his face.
The Official noted it also, "Hobbes, what do you know?"
"I know that it was used in the subway terrorist attack in Japan in 1995."
"Right you are, Bobby, sarin is an organophosphate nerve gas. Its odorless and colorless, Darien had no way of knowing what he was walking into. The most concentration of it may have been in the closed room. When Darien opened the door he inhaled it." Claire added.
"How did it get inside that house?" The Official asked angrily.
"Someone got there before us chief and took out the terrorists." Hobbes said.
"Hmpf," the Official grunted, he didn't like his boys walking into death traps, "Yes, Bobby, but the question is who and how did they get that gas into the house?"
"By this," a voice announced.
Hobbes and Claire turned around to see who walked in. "I'm gonna kill you!" Hobbes yelled as he leaped from his chair. His hands wrapped around the neck of the man who walked into the room. "Jones, you rat bastard, you almost killed Fawkes!"
"Bobby!" Claire tried to pry Hobbes hands off of Agent Jones.
"Just let me kill him!" Hobbes yelled.
"Hobbes!" The Official ordered in a gruff tone, "Let go of him, now!"
Hobbes reluctantly let go and sneered at Jones, "You haven't heard the last of this, Jonesy."
Jones fixed his shirt, tie and jacket. He looked at the Official, "Thank you, Mr. Borden."
"Don't mention it, Hobbes will kill you later. But before that, I want some answers."
Jones looked at the Official in surprise; he was about to say something but decided not to. "The doctor here is right, it was a form of sarin nerve gas; however this version worked much faster. It was delivered into the air conditioning unit using this canister," he held up a long oval shape canister with wires and a time release mechanism attached to it.
Claire took it into her hands, "Can I borrow this? I could use it to run some tests."
"Go ahead," Jones responded. "The gas may have been released into the house anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes before Agent Fawkes went inside."
"Didn't you have men on surveillance?" Hobbes asked sarcastically.
"Yes we did, Hobbes," Jones said in a matter-of-fact tone, "They didn't see anybody come near that house."
"Well, someone did." Hobbes answered. Hobbes got up and headed for the door, Jones side stepped to get out of Hobbes way. "If you need me chief, I'll be downstairs checking on my partner."
~*~
No Name leaned on his desk, "Did Agent Fawkes see you?"
"No, he didn't." Marek paused, "So, when do I get to meet the other invisible man?"
"In do time, in do time. Provided of course he survives, which I'm sure he will." No Name smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was pleased with how well his new toy had worked. His ultimate goal is to put the agency out of business and get his hands on Fawkes again. One invisible man is great but two in his charge would make his the most powerful agency in the government. No one would dare cross him knowing that he had two invisible assassins. It wouldn't be too hard to reprogram Fawkes.
~*~
Hobbes sat next to Darien; he listened to the beep that signaled Darien's heart was still beating. Claire had said that Darien had regained consciousness but he was asleep again. He didn't want to wake Darien, so he just patted him on his shoulder, "Hang in there partner, Keepie will have you fixed up in no time."
At that moment Darien's eyes fluttered open. Hobbes smiled at seeing those chocolate colored eyes. Darien had a confused look on his face and Hobbes remembered that Claire had said his vision was still blurry. Hobbes squeezed Darien's hand, remembering also the headache, he spoke softly, "It's me Fawkes, its Hobbes."
Darien tried to speak, but the tube interfered. All that came out was muffled grunts and groans. This clearly irritated Darien and it showed in his face.
"You can't talk, partner. Keep still needs to keep the tube in until your lungs are better. You gave us a scare. But, Claire says you'll be fine, may even be able to go home in a couple of days. I promise I'll find who did this to you."
Darien blinked his eyes and squeezed Hobbes hand again. He turned his head and went back to sleep.
Hobbes got up and walked over to the door. He turned and looked at his partner, "See ya later, Fawkes." The door slid shut.
Lehana Rowe woke up this morning for work she had no idea what she would be getting into. She had been cleared a long time ago for something top secret but she had no idea what it was. Until now.
Lehana thought back to just hours ago. 'He couldn't be that top secret', Lehana's thought was until the man they brought in went into a violent convulsion. As she and the blonde doctor who came in with him tried to sedate him, she felt her hands grow cold. She looked to see were the cold was coming from. It was coming from the man. She stood back and gasped as the man was covered with a silvery liquid like a blanket. At first it trickled all over then coated him. It appeared shiny at first and for a moment she saw her reflection, not to mention the shocked look on her face as she stared back at herself. And as quickly as the silvery substance appeared, it disappeared and so did the man.
Lehana stood there and pointed at the only visible sign that a body was still there on the gurney, an indent in the mattress. "That…that…" She gazed at Claire, "That is…the most incredible thing I ever saw or didn't see!"
"Not now!!! Help me get him stable so he can come back." Claire shouted back.
Now Lehana stood at the side of the bed and checked Darien's vitals. She knew some of the story now, like his name, a quick lesson on the gland and the importance of keeping a secret now that she was involved. She tried to comb his ruffled head of hair after she had recorded his vitals, "Need to make you look at least somewhat presentable. As my Jamaican grandmother would say…'you look like a rag-a-muffin,'". She chuckled at the memory and how many times her grandmother said that to her, even when she graduated med school. Lehana looked at her hair styling skills like an artist looking at a painting or sculpture. "Hmmm…don't have a lot of experience with white man's hair, but this boy's hair just won't lie down. Where is Ultra Sheen when you need it?"
Darien opened his eyes.
"Oh, hello, Agent Fawkes," Lehana looked into the deep brown eyes. It's said that 'the eyes are the window to the soul'. What she saw in his soul was pain and loneliness and not from what he was going through, this was a life time worth of suffering. His face showed confusion. She remembered that he still couldn't see and not to mention that he would not recognize her voice. "Oh…you don't know who I am." Lehana held his hand in hers, "I'm Dr. Lehana Rowe. Your Keeper stepped out, but she'll be back. You just rest now, you had a busy day." She patted his hand with her other one and watched as he closed his eyes.
Lehana sat there for a few moments watching the man sleep. The obvious pain he was in showed in the twitching muscles on his face. She reached over and picked up one of the marked syringes. She swabbed the port on the IV tube and injected some of the pain killer into the line. Lehana followed up the pain medication with a saline solution to wash the line.
~*~
A couple of hours later, Claire sat next to Darien checking his vitals. They were stabilizing and she let out a sigh. She drew some blood, wrote up an order for the lab and handed it to the nurse, "I want the results ASAP." Claire returned her attention back to Darien who was moving around a little. She took hold of his hand, "Dahrien, sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?"
Darien moved and his brows wrinkled as he tried to open his eyes. Claire coached him on.
"Come on, Darien, you can do it. Let me see those brown eyes." Claire squeezed his hand tighter.
With the tube still in Darien's throat his grunt was barely audible. He stirred some more, clearly agitated. Claire noticed his heart rate going up. "Darien, relax, I know it's hard, but I need to keep the tube in to help you breathe. Don't fight it; just let the machine breathe for you right now." Claire moved her chair closer to the bed, "Just open your eyes for me."
Darien's eyes opened. He tried to talk but to no avail. He became upset and moved around in an agitated way. His hand went down to his groin and he started to pull on the tube.
"Darien, that's the catheter, don't pull on it or you will cause an infection or start bleeding. I know it bothers you but we need to keep it in right now."
Darien glared at Claire.
Claire gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, "It's okay, Darien, just look at me. I'm going to ask you some questions again. Do you remember how to answer them?"
Darien squeezed Claire's hand twice signaling that he remembered.
"Very good, Darien. That's right one squeeze for *No* and two for *Yes*. Do you still have a headache?"
Two squeezes.
"Is it getting better?"
Two squeezes.
"Excellent. That's good, Darien." Claire wrote down his answers in his records. "Now, how about your eyesight, is it still blurry?"
Two squeezes.
"Hmmm. Is that getting better?"
Two squeezes.
"Good." Claire wrote some more, "I'm going to be back in about an hour and we'll see how your lungs are doing. Maybe then I can take that nasty tube out."
Two squeezes.
Claire chuckled, "I thought you would like that." She patted him on his shoulder, "You're on the road to recovery and you'll be your old self again."
Darien half smiled as he turned his head and closed his eyes. Claire sat there for a minutes watching his chest rise and fall as the respirator breathed for him. She looked at the medical equipment around his bed. The numbers flashing his heart rate, pulse and oxygen levels, bags of various solutions attached to IV lines that carried life saving fluids to Darien. X-rays on the view boxes mounted on the walls of his chest and head. Lab reports stuck in the chart she held in her hand.
Claire had been so busy before with tests and determining what had caused this kind of trauma that she never really took the time to gather it all in. They had almost lost Darien. She got up and left the room and cried in the hall.
Lehana walked up carrying a disposable tray filled with cups of coffee she bought at the coffee shop. She spotted Claire, "Hey, what happened?" Lehana had thought the worse.
Claire quickly wiped her eyes, "Oh, no, he's fine. Darien's fine, it's just that," she paused, it was hard to believe what she was going to say, "I almost lost him today."
"Oh, I see," Lehana said in a despondent tone. "So, I take it that you two are seeing each other?"
"What?" Claire looked surprised, "No…I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. I've worked with Darien for two years now and this is the closet I've come to losing any of my co-workers. It just hit that's all." Claire paused and then continued, "Darien is my patient and I'm his doctor but we're also friends. I guess I'm overstressed right now." Claire finished her remark with a nervous laugh.
"Well, I've got just what the doctor ordered and since I am one, here is my order. Go rest." Lehana raised her free hand, "Now don't get all doctor on me by saying, 'I can't, I have a patient to look out for.' You just said yourself that he's fine and he's probably sleeping right now anyway. I can get someone to put a bed for you in another room. You won't do him or me any good if you're on the edge ready to slip off."
Claire smiled, "I promised him that I would check him an hour about taking the tube out. I'll rest after that."
"Okay, fair enough. Until then, here," Lehana handed Claire a cup of coffee. "Now go somewhere and relax for an hour. I'm here; I'll keep an eye on him."
Claire took the coffee and smiled, "Thanks, Lehana, I'm glad you're here."
"Me too. Who knew that working for government would be this exciting?"
The two women laughed. Claire walked down the hall feeling better and Lehana went back inside lab 4. She read the chart to keep herself updated on what went on during her absence. She noted that Claire had ordered some blood workup and that she had spoken with Darien. Lehana read the notes out loud, "Positive responses to headache and blurred vision questioning. Patient communicated by squeezing hand, indicated improvement with the headache and blurred vision." Lehana smiled at Darien, "There you go, see, getting better already."
Lehana checked his vitals and recorded them along with her observations. The door opened and she sighed, "Claire, I thought I told you…" she turned around as she was speaking and stopped, "Oh. Agent Hobbes, I thought you were Claire. Didn't you go home?"
"I did, but I couldn't stay away. Decided to come back here and see how he's doing." Hobbes walked over to Darien and pulled up a chair to sit down.
Lehana smiled, "He's getting better. The headache and the blurred vision are improving and his vitals have stabilized." She held the chart close to her chest, "You did a great job earlier, you acted fast and that probably saved his life."
"It should never have happened." Hobbes pulled out a magazine.
"Agent Hobbes, you of all people should know that every mission is dangerous. No matter how much surveillance you do, there is still the unknown. The important thing is that you were there when it did happen. Imagine how worse you would feel now." Lehana stood in front of Hobbes and stared at him.
Hobbes smiled, "You're pretty good there, doc."
"Well, that's what I'm here for." Lehana saw the magazine and she had puzzled look on her face, "You seem more like the 'Guns and Ammo' type."
"Huh? What?"
"The magazine, 'Philosophy Today', that doesn't fit you."
"Oh, this," Hobbes held up the magazine, "This isn't mine, it's his," Hobbes gestured towards Darien. "I stopped by his apartment before coming back, thought that he would like to hear some of this whacky stuff he's into."
"If we value the pursuit of knowledge, we must be free to follow wherever that search may lead us. The free mind is no barking dog to be tethered on a 1-foot chain."
"Not you too? And what did all that mean anyway?"
"Don't let anything hold you back." Lehana checked the oximetry sensor at the end of Darien's finger.
"Hold back what?" Hobbes asked.
"Whatever it is you're searching for, knowledge, friendship," Lehana paused, "Love."
Hobbes let out a soft grunt, "Humf."
"Agent Hobbes, you can't tell me that there isn't someone out there that holds a special place in your heart?" Lehana wrote down some more notes in Darien's chart as she talked with Hobbes.
"Yeah, well, there is," Hobbes paused, "Someone." Hobbes nearly blushed.
"I see," Lehana smiled. "I thought so."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because, we all need somebody to love, we weren't designed to be alone in life." Lehana checked Darien's temperature and then wrote it down.
"In my line of work, sister, that's risky, especially with this project. It's best if we are alone or not attached to someone." Hobbes poured himself a glass of water.
"Yes, I can see your point. This is pretty top secret," Lehana looked down at Darien, "It must be hard on him."
"More than you know, doc, more than you know." Hobbes opened the magazine to find something to read to Darien.
TBC…
Sequel to "State of Mind" which can be found at http://www.fawkesyandhobbesy.com/alli_lori_index.htm
Author: Lori with a little help from Alli
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or basic story lines of "The Invisible Man". If there are any similarities of any person, real or fictional, dead or alive and any plot similarities to any current fics posted, being written or is currently floating around in someone's head is purely a coincidence. I'm certainly not getting paid for this at all. So why do it? Cause I want to keep the best scifi series alive.
Description: No Name is back and has a weapon of his own to destroy the Agency once and for all. Darien must fight an enemy to keep his own sanity intact and save a friend.
Chapter 1
"You know that ol' sayin' that goes, 'things happen for a reason'? Here's the thing, I've never really believed that, I mean what could be the reason for my mom dying and my dad leaving Kevin and me? So we could go live with Uncle Pete and Aunt Celia? I can't find a reason good enough for me on that one. So, what's the reason for me getting a gland in my head and losing Casey, Kate and Allianora? That, I'm about to find out."
A grey toned world is what Darien saw as he made his way to the house. His heart pounded so hard that it was no problem keeping him under the protective coating of invisibility. He walked slowly and quietly up to the house. Careful not to make any noise, he took each step slowly up the steps to the back of the house until he reached the top. Now was the tricky part, time to walk across the wooden planks of the old house. As a kid he had known every creek his Uncle and Aunt's house made and he knew what parts of the porch to avoid.
But this house was new to him. Like a soldier making his way through a mind field, he carefully put his weight on each foot and slowly, methodically made advancement on the unsuspecting terrorists.
Hobbes sat in the back of the van, sweating bullets. This was a very dangerous mission. So dangerous, that Fawkes was ordered to wear a bullet proof vest. Of course, he complained that it wouldn't protect his head, but agreed none-the-less. He held the earpiece close to his ear and heard every breath that came out of Fawkes' mouth. Silently, almost trying to communicate with Fawkes through his mind, he coached his partner along. 'Nice and easy, Fawkesy, that's it, take your time,' Hobbes thought to himself, not wanting to say anything out loud fearing that he might scare Fawkes and blow the whole thing. Not to mention get Fawkes killed.
Claire and a team of cleared medical personnel waited in a truck a few blocks away. Inside the truck resembled a trauma center that any hospital would be envious of and on the outside, the truck resembled a UPS delivery truck. If Claire was in the habit of biting her nails, she probably would be at this point. The whole team sat in an eerie silence.
Darien tried to peak through the back window but all the shades were drawn. From what they learned from the FBI debriefing, the terrorists mainly kept to one of the back rooms. Darien took a deep breath, held it and turned the knob.
Hobbes radioed to Claire, "Keep, he's going in."
Claire held her hands together, "Dahrien," her ascent drawing out the 'r' to sound more like an 'h' was in his name, "Please be careful."
The knob turned in Darien's hand all the way around revealing to him that the door was not locked. Darien silently said to himself, 'I don't like this. The door is unlocked.'
'This isn't good, my friend.' Hobbes thought to himself. All he could hear was Darien's heavy breathing. 'Take it easy, Fawkes. I don't need you hyperventilating on me.'
Darien poked his head in to get a look inside to see if the coast was clear, all was quiet inside the house, too quiet. He opened the door a little more and squeezed his thin frame between the door and the frame. Darien closed the door quietly. If he left it opened a terrorist might see it and the whole operation is over before it could get started.
"Bobby," Claire said in an anxious tone, "Tell me." She hated the wait and wanted this to be over with. All Darien was supposed to do was go inside and report what was going inside the house. The FBI assured the Official that Fawkes was in no danger and for a precaution, they supplied the medical truck. Little comfort that gave Claire, she hoped they wouldn't need it.
Darien walked through the kitchen into living room, noticing pictures of Hussein, Arafat, Gadafi and Bin Laden on the wall. 'Hmm…welcome to the wall of the world's great humanitarians,' he thought to himself. Darien made his way to the back of the house. There he found a door slightly opened. He peeked inside and saw six dead terrorists. Darien opened the door a little more to get a better look, "Ah crap." Darien started to feel a little drowsy and his breathing became a little raspy.
Hobbes noticed the way Darien was breathing, "Fawkes, you okay there, partner? What happened?"
"I don't know, Hobbes, but I think they're all dead."
"FAWKES!!! Get out of there!!!!" Hobbes yelled. He threw his earpiece down, opened up the door and leaped from the van. He held his walkie talkie to his mouth and shouted, "Abort mission…I repeat…abort mission!" At his command, agents came out of hiding and descended upon the house.
Darien stumbled from the front door. He staggered towards the stairs, the quicksilver flaked off and his vision was extremely blurred. He couldn't see very well to gauge his footing; he missed the first step and tumbled down the steps to the walkway.
By the time Hobbes got to Darien, he started to convulse. "Get the Keeper here now!!!" Hobbes barked as he frantically ripped Darien's shirt off. "Don't do this, Fawkes. You hear me, damn it, don't do this!" Hobbes watched with horror as Darien gasped for air and then stopped breathing. "NO!!" Hobbes felt for a pulse, it was weak. He unfastened the bullet proof vest and bent his head to feel and watch for any signs of breathing, there was none. He tilted Darien's head back using the chin lift method, pinched his nose shut and started breathing for Darien. Hobbes watched Darien's chest rise and fall back down. "Come on, damn it…breathe!"
The truck raced across the lawn and came to a stop. Claire and the team jumped out from the back of the truck, "What the hell happened?" Claire shouted.
"I don't know, he came out, fell and stopped breathing." Hobbes looked at her, "He's not gonna die is he, Claire?"
Claire assessed Darien and said to one of nurses, "We need to intubate him now!" She looked at Hobbes with apprehension on her face. Hobbes understand that look, she wasn't going to promise something she couldn't keep. He sat back and let the medical team do their job.
Claire inserted a breathing tube down Darien's throat. One of the nurses attached an ambu bag to the tube and started to squeeze it, forcing much needed air into Darien's lungs. Claire kept a close eye on his rising and falling chest. She checked his vitals then his eyes, "1mm in diameter…let's give him 1g of pralidoxime iodide."
"What happened to him, Claire?" Hobbes asked.
"Bobby, I'm not sure, but I would say he inhaled some type of poison gas," replied Claire. Uncertainty was clearly in her voice as she continued to work on Darien. She really wasn't sure, but all indications seem to point that way. The tests will reveal what really happened and if it was poison gas, what kind was it and who released it in the house?
Agents rushed around trying to secure the area and while Hobbes watched Claire call out orders. Everyone was so concerned about what may have happened and the attempt to save Darien's life that no one noticed the bushes move as if someone had pushed through, invisible.
~*~
Across town hours later, Marek Schmitt, a tall brown haired man of medium build sat in the chair across from No Name. His legs were crossed and his fingers moved around like he was playing a piano on his knee.
No Name was reading the report from the mission earlier at the terrorists hideout, "Things went well then on your first field mission?"
"Yes, sir it did," Marek smiled, "They never saw me coming."
~*~
Lab 4 normally was quiet but on this day, the room was filled with the sounds of medical equipment. Claire rushed around checking tapes as machines spit them out, reading test results and spent most of the time mumbling to herself.
Claire looked down at Darien, "Do your eyes still hurt?"
Darien nodded. He was still intubated, his lungs were still too weak to work on their own. Claire frowned at her patient. She had seen Darien's sad puppy eye look before, but this was different, he was in pain and it showed.
"Is your vision still blurred?"
Darien nodded. Claire wrote down some notes.
"How about the headache, still have it?"
Darien nodded again. This time his eyes pleaded with her. He couldn't see her very well, but he knew she was there. Claire turned to one of the nurses and gave orders for intravenous medication at certain intervals. She patted Darien on his arm, "I have to go see the Official for a few minutes, I'll be back I promise. You're going to be fine, Darien. These people here will take care of you until I back." She smiled and watched him try to smile back. "Just try to relax, okay sweetheart?" She reached over and grabbed a few tissues. She wiped the clear fluid that leaked from his nose. Claire tossed the tissue in the garbage. Before she left, she wrote in his chart, "Rhinorrhea". She left Darien in good hands and went to the Official's office to give her report.
Upstairs, Hobbes sat in the Official's office giving a verbal report of what happened during the mission. Hobbes answered the questions but his mind was on his partner, his friend fighting for his life in lab 4. He kicked himself for letting Darien go in, this should never had happened.
"So when did you notice that something was wrong?" The Official asked with a genuine sound of concern in his voice.
Hobbes raised a brow to the tone, "Fawkes was able to open the front door. It wasn't locked sir."
"Hmmm…what happened next?"
"Well, Fawkes went in," Hobbes paused to make a mental note of the events, "He was in for maybe five minutes, no more than then ten. He went to that back room like the F…B…I…said the terrorists would be," his tone noted distain for that agency, "Fawkes opened the door…said 'ah crap', that's when I noticed something was wrong."
"By the way he said 'ah crap'?" The Official asked.
"That's affirmative sir…you see, Fawkes has a certain way of saying 'ah crap' depending upon the situation, I've come to know them all sir." Hobbes proceeded to give the Official examples of the different tones of Darien's voice.
The Official barked in annoyance, "Thank you, Bobby, now get to the point!"
"Oh yes, sir, anyway as I was saying. This time it was different almost agitated and his breathing became different. He then told me that all the terrorists were dead. That's when I yelled to him to get out and aborted the mission."
"Eberts, go see if Claire can come in here and give a report on Darien's condition."
"Right away, sir." Eberts no sooner got to the door and it opened. He watched as Claire walked in, exhaustion written all over her face. "Oh," Eberts turned towards the Official, "Here she is."
"Thank you, Eberts…good job as usual." The Official looked at Claire, "Well."
"Darien is going to be fine. Bobby saved his life by starting CPR quickly." Claire smiled at Hobbes. "His symptoms are numerous, miosis…"
"Miosis? Sorry, doctor but can you clarify?" The Official asked.
"Its pupil constriction, it has to do with the oculomotor nerve. I had to give him diazepam to control the convulsions. He vomited when we got him here. His Cholinesterase levels were low." Claire noted the confused looks, "It's not important, but the levels were dangerously low. I put him on medication to raise the ChE levels. I'll know if it's working when I get the blood tests back. He was conscious when I left but he's still unable to breathe on his own. I have him on ventilation and I would say he is still in critical condition, but his chances of survival are increasing as he responds to treatment." Claire sat down, "He suffered respiratory failure due to central nervous system involvement, a nicotinic effect on the respiratory muscles, and or a muscarinic effect on the smooth muscle and secretory glands of the airway, resulted in bronchoconstriction and excess bronchial secretion."
"What caused this?" The Official asked. He gave her a look that meant that he really wasn't interested in the medical specifics of Darien's diagnosis.
"I'm waiting for some toxicology tests but I would say some type of nerve gas. The symptoms that he had are consistent with exposure to sarin nerve gas." Claire looked at Hobbes. She knew he had recognized the name just by the expression on his face.
The Official noted it also, "Hobbes, what do you know?"
"I know that it was used in the subway terrorist attack in Japan in 1995."
"Right you are, Bobby, sarin is an organophosphate nerve gas. Its odorless and colorless, Darien had no way of knowing what he was walking into. The most concentration of it may have been in the closed room. When Darien opened the door he inhaled it." Claire added.
"How did it get inside that house?" The Official asked angrily.
"Someone got there before us chief and took out the terrorists." Hobbes said.
"Hmpf," the Official grunted, he didn't like his boys walking into death traps, "Yes, Bobby, but the question is who and how did they get that gas into the house?"
"By this," a voice announced.
Hobbes and Claire turned around to see who walked in. "I'm gonna kill you!" Hobbes yelled as he leaped from his chair. His hands wrapped around the neck of the man who walked into the room. "Jones, you rat bastard, you almost killed Fawkes!"
"Bobby!" Claire tried to pry Hobbes hands off of Agent Jones.
"Just let me kill him!" Hobbes yelled.
"Hobbes!" The Official ordered in a gruff tone, "Let go of him, now!"
Hobbes reluctantly let go and sneered at Jones, "You haven't heard the last of this, Jonesy."
Jones fixed his shirt, tie and jacket. He looked at the Official, "Thank you, Mr. Borden."
"Don't mention it, Hobbes will kill you later. But before that, I want some answers."
Jones looked at the Official in surprise; he was about to say something but decided not to. "The doctor here is right, it was a form of sarin nerve gas; however this version worked much faster. It was delivered into the air conditioning unit using this canister," he held up a long oval shape canister with wires and a time release mechanism attached to it.
Claire took it into her hands, "Can I borrow this? I could use it to run some tests."
"Go ahead," Jones responded. "The gas may have been released into the house anywhere from twenty to thirty minutes before Agent Fawkes went inside."
"Didn't you have men on surveillance?" Hobbes asked sarcastically.
"Yes we did, Hobbes," Jones said in a matter-of-fact tone, "They didn't see anybody come near that house."
"Well, someone did." Hobbes answered. Hobbes got up and headed for the door, Jones side stepped to get out of Hobbes way. "If you need me chief, I'll be downstairs checking on my partner."
~*~
No Name leaned on his desk, "Did Agent Fawkes see you?"
"No, he didn't." Marek paused, "So, when do I get to meet the other invisible man?"
"In do time, in do time. Provided of course he survives, which I'm sure he will." No Name smiled and leaned back in his chair. He was pleased with how well his new toy had worked. His ultimate goal is to put the agency out of business and get his hands on Fawkes again. One invisible man is great but two in his charge would make his the most powerful agency in the government. No one would dare cross him knowing that he had two invisible assassins. It wouldn't be too hard to reprogram Fawkes.
~*~
Hobbes sat next to Darien; he listened to the beep that signaled Darien's heart was still beating. Claire had said that Darien had regained consciousness but he was asleep again. He didn't want to wake Darien, so he just patted him on his shoulder, "Hang in there partner, Keepie will have you fixed up in no time."
At that moment Darien's eyes fluttered open. Hobbes smiled at seeing those chocolate colored eyes. Darien had a confused look on his face and Hobbes remembered that Claire had said his vision was still blurry. Hobbes squeezed Darien's hand, remembering also the headache, he spoke softly, "It's me Fawkes, its Hobbes."
Darien tried to speak, but the tube interfered. All that came out was muffled grunts and groans. This clearly irritated Darien and it showed in his face.
"You can't talk, partner. Keep still needs to keep the tube in until your lungs are better. You gave us a scare. But, Claire says you'll be fine, may even be able to go home in a couple of days. I promise I'll find who did this to you."
Darien blinked his eyes and squeezed Hobbes hand again. He turned his head and went back to sleep.
Hobbes got up and walked over to the door. He turned and looked at his partner, "See ya later, Fawkes." The door slid shut.
Lehana Rowe woke up this morning for work she had no idea what she would be getting into. She had been cleared a long time ago for something top secret but she had no idea what it was. Until now.
Lehana thought back to just hours ago. 'He couldn't be that top secret', Lehana's thought was until the man they brought in went into a violent convulsion. As she and the blonde doctor who came in with him tried to sedate him, she felt her hands grow cold. She looked to see were the cold was coming from. It was coming from the man. She stood back and gasped as the man was covered with a silvery liquid like a blanket. At first it trickled all over then coated him. It appeared shiny at first and for a moment she saw her reflection, not to mention the shocked look on her face as she stared back at herself. And as quickly as the silvery substance appeared, it disappeared and so did the man.
Lehana stood there and pointed at the only visible sign that a body was still there on the gurney, an indent in the mattress. "That…that…" She gazed at Claire, "That is…the most incredible thing I ever saw or didn't see!"
"Not now!!! Help me get him stable so he can come back." Claire shouted back.
Now Lehana stood at the side of the bed and checked Darien's vitals. She knew some of the story now, like his name, a quick lesson on the gland and the importance of keeping a secret now that she was involved. She tried to comb his ruffled head of hair after she had recorded his vitals, "Need to make you look at least somewhat presentable. As my Jamaican grandmother would say…'you look like a rag-a-muffin,'". She chuckled at the memory and how many times her grandmother said that to her, even when she graduated med school. Lehana looked at her hair styling skills like an artist looking at a painting or sculpture. "Hmmm…don't have a lot of experience with white man's hair, but this boy's hair just won't lie down. Where is Ultra Sheen when you need it?"
Darien opened his eyes.
"Oh, hello, Agent Fawkes," Lehana looked into the deep brown eyes. It's said that 'the eyes are the window to the soul'. What she saw in his soul was pain and loneliness and not from what he was going through, this was a life time worth of suffering. His face showed confusion. She remembered that he still couldn't see and not to mention that he would not recognize her voice. "Oh…you don't know who I am." Lehana held his hand in hers, "I'm Dr. Lehana Rowe. Your Keeper stepped out, but she'll be back. You just rest now, you had a busy day." She patted his hand with her other one and watched as he closed his eyes.
Lehana sat there for a few moments watching the man sleep. The obvious pain he was in showed in the twitching muscles on his face. She reached over and picked up one of the marked syringes. She swabbed the port on the IV tube and injected some of the pain killer into the line. Lehana followed up the pain medication with a saline solution to wash the line.
~*~
A couple of hours later, Claire sat next to Darien checking his vitals. They were stabilizing and she let out a sigh. She drew some blood, wrote up an order for the lab and handed it to the nurse, "I want the results ASAP." Claire returned her attention back to Darien who was moving around a little. She took hold of his hand, "Dahrien, sweetheart, can you open your eyes for me?"
Darien moved and his brows wrinkled as he tried to open his eyes. Claire coached him on.
"Come on, Darien, you can do it. Let me see those brown eyes." Claire squeezed his hand tighter.
With the tube still in Darien's throat his grunt was barely audible. He stirred some more, clearly agitated. Claire noticed his heart rate going up. "Darien, relax, I know it's hard, but I need to keep the tube in to help you breathe. Don't fight it; just let the machine breathe for you right now." Claire moved her chair closer to the bed, "Just open your eyes for me."
Darien's eyes opened. He tried to talk but to no avail. He became upset and moved around in an agitated way. His hand went down to his groin and he started to pull on the tube.
"Darien, that's the catheter, don't pull on it or you will cause an infection or start bleeding. I know it bothers you but we need to keep it in right now."
Darien glared at Claire.
Claire gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, "It's okay, Darien, just look at me. I'm going to ask you some questions again. Do you remember how to answer them?"
Darien squeezed Claire's hand twice signaling that he remembered.
"Very good, Darien. That's right one squeeze for *No* and two for *Yes*. Do you still have a headache?"
Two squeezes.
"Is it getting better?"
Two squeezes.
"Excellent. That's good, Darien." Claire wrote down his answers in his records. "Now, how about your eyesight, is it still blurry?"
Two squeezes.
"Hmmm. Is that getting better?"
Two squeezes.
"Good." Claire wrote some more, "I'm going to be back in about an hour and we'll see how your lungs are doing. Maybe then I can take that nasty tube out."
Two squeezes.
Claire chuckled, "I thought you would like that." She patted him on his shoulder, "You're on the road to recovery and you'll be your old self again."
Darien half smiled as he turned his head and closed his eyes. Claire sat there for a minutes watching his chest rise and fall as the respirator breathed for him. She looked at the medical equipment around his bed. The numbers flashing his heart rate, pulse and oxygen levels, bags of various solutions attached to IV lines that carried life saving fluids to Darien. X-rays on the view boxes mounted on the walls of his chest and head. Lab reports stuck in the chart she held in her hand.
Claire had been so busy before with tests and determining what had caused this kind of trauma that she never really took the time to gather it all in. They had almost lost Darien. She got up and left the room and cried in the hall.
Lehana walked up carrying a disposable tray filled with cups of coffee she bought at the coffee shop. She spotted Claire, "Hey, what happened?" Lehana had thought the worse.
Claire quickly wiped her eyes, "Oh, no, he's fine. Darien's fine, it's just that," she paused, it was hard to believe what she was going to say, "I almost lost him today."
"Oh, I see," Lehana said in a despondent tone. "So, I take it that you two are seeing each other?"
"What?" Claire looked surprised, "No…I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. I've worked with Darien for two years now and this is the closet I've come to losing any of my co-workers. It just hit that's all." Claire paused and then continued, "Darien is my patient and I'm his doctor but we're also friends. I guess I'm overstressed right now." Claire finished her remark with a nervous laugh.
"Well, I've got just what the doctor ordered and since I am one, here is my order. Go rest." Lehana raised her free hand, "Now don't get all doctor on me by saying, 'I can't, I have a patient to look out for.' You just said yourself that he's fine and he's probably sleeping right now anyway. I can get someone to put a bed for you in another room. You won't do him or me any good if you're on the edge ready to slip off."
Claire smiled, "I promised him that I would check him an hour about taking the tube out. I'll rest after that."
"Okay, fair enough. Until then, here," Lehana handed Claire a cup of coffee. "Now go somewhere and relax for an hour. I'm here; I'll keep an eye on him."
Claire took the coffee and smiled, "Thanks, Lehana, I'm glad you're here."
"Me too. Who knew that working for government would be this exciting?"
The two women laughed. Claire walked down the hall feeling better and Lehana went back inside lab 4. She read the chart to keep herself updated on what went on during her absence. She noted that Claire had ordered some blood workup and that she had spoken with Darien. Lehana read the notes out loud, "Positive responses to headache and blurred vision questioning. Patient communicated by squeezing hand, indicated improvement with the headache and blurred vision." Lehana smiled at Darien, "There you go, see, getting better already."
Lehana checked his vitals and recorded them along with her observations. The door opened and she sighed, "Claire, I thought I told you…" she turned around as she was speaking and stopped, "Oh. Agent Hobbes, I thought you were Claire. Didn't you go home?"
"I did, but I couldn't stay away. Decided to come back here and see how he's doing." Hobbes walked over to Darien and pulled up a chair to sit down.
Lehana smiled, "He's getting better. The headache and the blurred vision are improving and his vitals have stabilized." She held the chart close to her chest, "You did a great job earlier, you acted fast and that probably saved his life."
"It should never have happened." Hobbes pulled out a magazine.
"Agent Hobbes, you of all people should know that every mission is dangerous. No matter how much surveillance you do, there is still the unknown. The important thing is that you were there when it did happen. Imagine how worse you would feel now." Lehana stood in front of Hobbes and stared at him.
Hobbes smiled, "You're pretty good there, doc."
"Well, that's what I'm here for." Lehana saw the magazine and she had puzzled look on her face, "You seem more like the 'Guns and Ammo' type."
"Huh? What?"
"The magazine, 'Philosophy Today', that doesn't fit you."
"Oh, this," Hobbes held up the magazine, "This isn't mine, it's his," Hobbes gestured towards Darien. "I stopped by his apartment before coming back, thought that he would like to hear some of this whacky stuff he's into."
"If we value the pursuit of knowledge, we must be free to follow wherever that search may lead us. The free mind is no barking dog to be tethered on a 1-foot chain."
"Not you too? And what did all that mean anyway?"
"Don't let anything hold you back." Lehana checked the oximetry sensor at the end of Darien's finger.
"Hold back what?" Hobbes asked.
"Whatever it is you're searching for, knowledge, friendship," Lehana paused, "Love."
Hobbes let out a soft grunt, "Humf."
"Agent Hobbes, you can't tell me that there isn't someone out there that holds a special place in your heart?" Lehana wrote down some more notes in Darien's chart as she talked with Hobbes.
"Yeah, well, there is," Hobbes paused, "Someone." Hobbes nearly blushed.
"I see," Lehana smiled. "I thought so."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because, we all need somebody to love, we weren't designed to be alone in life." Lehana checked Darien's temperature and then wrote it down.
"In my line of work, sister, that's risky, especially with this project. It's best if we are alone or not attached to someone." Hobbes poured himself a glass of water.
"Yes, I can see your point. This is pretty top secret," Lehana looked down at Darien, "It must be hard on him."
"More than you know, doc, more than you know." Hobbes opened the magazine to find something to read to Darien.
TBC…