Chapter 3

Jonas Spelling sat in his luxurious office, 5 floors above ground level and 10 floors above the sub-level of the facility which had become the hub of the QS9300 Project and where Darien Fawkes was currently 'housed'. Scattered in front of him on his desk were the pages of a detailed report on Darien and he scanned them briefly with undisguised pleasure. Fawkes was co-operating – finally.

He had been in Washington DC for the last 10 days, summoned there to explain his recent actions regarding the QS9300 Project to a secret government committee, knowing full well this was all part of a futile attempt by Charles Borden to wrest full control back for the Agency; but he also knew that the man had very little chance of succeeding while his friends in the White House were so pre-occupied.

However, even with his own high-level support, Spelling was well aware that he would need to produce results, and soon, otherwise it might jus be decided that the I-Man Project be passed on to one of his rivals or, worse still, back to Borden.

"And he's behaving himself?" This question was directed at Ella Craven, who sat in one of the two leather chairs in front of his desk.

The other was occupied by a tall, reed-thin man, with strands of wispy red hair combed over his otherwise bald head; Dr. Wesley Carter, head of the DoD's QS9300 research team.

"Perfectly. I hate to admit it Jonas, but Dr. Keeply has made a difference." Ella's eyes narrowed to tiny slits as she mentioned Claire's name through gritted teeth.

"There's still a little resistance to some of the tests." She glanced sideways at Dr. Carter, who nodded agreement with a little theatrical sigh. "But nothing of major relevance at the moment. Most importantly, he's been demonstrating his 'abilities' for Dr. Carter and his team almost on demand."

"Truly remarkable," Carter confirmed, pushing his gold-rimmed glasses further on to his sharp nose. "Darien's control of the Quicksilver gland is quite astounding given that it's a bio-synthetic implant."

Closing the folder in front of him and pushing it to one side, Spelling stared between Ella and Dr. Carter. "When do you think we can have him mission ready?

"Now that's the 17 million dollar question." The woman pulled herself up in her seat, stretching her long shapely legs out in front of her, aware of the effect on both Spelling and a visibly flustered Carter.

"Bruno and I have both been working with him intensively these past couple of weeks, to assess his general fitness level and combat skills among other things. To give them credit Jonas, the Agency has trained him well."

Spelling arched an eyebrow. "I never doubted it for a moment. Despite his penny-pinching, Borden runs an efficient little set up. Not that I'd ever tell him that of course." He shifted in his own chair, leaning forward. "I sense a 'but'?"

She nodded. "I think we have a potential problem. Honestly! I'm not sure he's got what it takes to do what's going to be asked of him. His over-active conscience will get in the way, believe me."

"Oh, I do believe you. But Fawkes is just going to have to learn the hard way that he really has very little choice in the matter where his future is concerned. He'll go where we send him and do exactly what we tell him to do. Besides, he's his father's son so the work should come naturally to him in time, and in the meantime, well this is where Dr. Carter and his team come in. Doctor, I'm hoping you have some news for us?"

Carter wavered for a second under Spelling's expectant scrutiny before nervously pushing his glasses up his nose again.

"As you're aware we considered several methods of control, chief among them a reversal of Dr. Arnaud De Thiel's 'cure, after all QSM and the counteragent were a quite brilliant concept. However, this option was discounted primarily due to the fact that Darien would need to undergo a lengthy course of gene therapy; and with the time constraints imposed…" he paused for a moment, idly wondering if these two had any real idea of the almost unbearable pressure he and his research team had been put under to come up with a viable solution in such a short time span, not that this would concern them greatly anyway when all they wanted was results, not excuses.

He cleared his throat to continue.

"We decided the best solution was to adapt technology already at our disposal to create a 'control factor' that we're confident will prove every bit as effective as QSM as a long or short term solution."

The scientist was pleased to have the complete attention of his audience of two as he extended the palm of his hand, to reveal a petrie dish containing a miniscule metallic object. Ella leaned forward squinting, a quizzical look on her face.

"It's a nano-bug," he advised keenly, though the woman didn't look any the wiser. "Once introduced and triggered it emits a small but painful electrical charge which primarily disrupts the signal between Darien's quicksilver and adrenal glands. As we haven't had sufficient time or indeed a suitable guinea pig to trial this device there's no way of knowing for sure what the effects will be to the rest of his system until it's implanted, however, we're confident they will be immediate and…uh…debilitating.

"The bug can only be activated via the Digital Trigger Devise, worn by his Handler," a flicker of a smile in Ella's direction, "or by a special neutralizing agent administered into the gland to 'short-circuit' the bug permanently. In addition we've also incorporated a tracking signal into the bug. Though the exact range is yet to be fully determined."

Spelling stood now and moved across to the floor to ceiling windows in his office, overlooking the vast facility below, his mind reeling with anticipation.

"This is excellent Dr. Carter, excellent. When will Fawkes be ready?"

Carter hesitated. "Well, in theory it's just a matter of implanting the bug, a relatively straight-forward procedure…"

"Well, what's the problem?" Ella interrupted irritably.

He shifted nervously, pulling on his earlobe. Women in general unnerved him, but this one definitely more than most as he was well aware of her reputation.

"Uh…um….Dr. Keeply. She's a little….protective, and insists on overseeing all medical testing or procedures on Agent Fawkes. She never leaves us alone with him in the lab."

Ella mumbled something that sounded like, 'damn wet nurse'.

"Ah, yes. What to do about our lovely Claire?" Spelling mused to no-one in particular.

Carter cleared his throat once again. "Uh, I believe we do have a solution of sorts. I've been involved in all of Darien's tests in one capacity or another, and while I know he doesn't really trust any of us he's a little more at ease with me. If Dr. Keeply was kept occupied…"

Ella leaned forward in her chair. "Leave her to me Jonas, it'll be my pleasure!"

He shot her a warning glare. "I don't want her harmed Ella. Without her expertise and diligence this project would possibly have died with Kevin Fawkes."

"I wouldn't dream of hurting her," she smiled innocently.

"Make sure you don't."

Moving back to stand behind his desk, Spelling looked at the woman with eager anticipation. "You know Ella, it really is quite exciting to think of the opportunities and rewards ahead of us." .

Ella Craven nodded in agreement, but for reasons of her own which would be far more exciting and personally rewarding than Spelling could ever imagine.


"What do you mean, I no longer have access?" Claire stared furiously at the guard, barring her way through the security door that led to Darien's quarters.

The man stood his ground. He had his orders, and it was more than his life was worth to disobey them. "This sector is now out of bounds to you Dr. Keeply."

"That's bloody ridiculous. How many times have you watched me come and go from here? Now you're telling me it's out of bounds." She frowned suspiciously. "Says who, exactly?"

His eyes shifted nervously to one side as footsteps approached.

"Says me!"

Claire spun on her heels at the familiar voice. Ella Craven stood a few feet away, her own key card held teasingly between finger and thumb.

"You have no right…!"

Ella held up a hand to quiet the other woman. "I have every right actually. I have clearance to take whatever precautions necessary to ensure the security of our technology."

Claire's obvious distress pleased her greatly, and she intended to savor every last moment while she had the time. Ella indicated the open door of an office. "Shall we?"

Arms folded across her angrily, Claire hesitated just a moment taking a couple of small breaths to control her temper before following the other woman into the room.

"I'm no danger to Darien and you know it," she spat furiously. "Now, do you want to tell me what the bloody hell this is all about or do I need to find Jonas?"

"Jonas is incommunicado for a few hours, so you'll just have to take me at my word. Keepie!"

"You're word! Hah!" Claire pushed a strand of long blonde hair back from her face.

"There's something going on, which is why you don't want me near Darien tonight. I'm not a fool."

"What makes you think there's anything 'going on'? Perhaps I've just decided that he needs to be cut loose from mommy's apron strings."

"Because I know this agency." Claire's eyes flashed angrily at the other woman. "I know every stinking, horrible secret. That's why I walked away from it in the first place."

"Well, you're back now," Ella smirked, and Claire had the urge to smack her in the face.

"I'm back for one reason and one reason only, and you know it!"

"Ah yes, the delectable Darien. Well, he's not your problem any more. With immediate effect our own medical team will be taking over his day to day care so you're sort of…surplus to requirements."

Claire's mouth dropped open in shock and she swallowed hard before muttering softly,

"Y…you can't do that."

"We already have," the tall woman said matter-of-factly, strolling across the room to perch herself elegantly on the edge of a desk.

"What do you mean?" Claire was nervous now and she took a faltering step towards Ella.

"The honeymoon period is over. Darien needs to be primed and focused, but with you fussing around him all the time like an over-protective mother hen that isn't going to happen. You're a distraction he can do without."

Claire fought to control the overwhelming sense of panic which threatened. "I can only imagine what you bastards have planned for him.. He's a good man, a really gentle soul. Please don't do this to him…"

Ella held up her hand to stop Claire's words. "Enough! Anyone would think you have the hots for him. Ah, but then that would entail you crossing that patient-doctor divide wouldn't it? Frankly, no one would blame you. I don't know how you've kept your hands off him for so long, our Darien is a major piece of ass."

Ella relished the look of horror on the other woman's face, her smile broadening when she thought she'd touched on a nerve. She pushed herself away from the table and moved until she was just a few feet away from Claire.

"My God, the doctor really does have un-doctorly feelings for her Kept. And there I was thinking you were the proverbial Ice Queen."

"That's ridiculous." Claire folded her arms across herself defensively.

"Tut, tut! I think somebody's in denial," she chided, wagging her finger a few inches from Claire's face. "I wonder if Darien feels the same? Too bad neither of you will get the chance to sample loves young dream."

"You bloody bitch!" Claire's anger erupted and her hand lashed out catching the other woman fully across the face.

For a moment a heavy, tense silence permeated the room, as Ella held a hand to cover the red mark already appearing across her right cheek. Claire stood ready and waiting for retaliation of some sort, breathing heavily, her hands clenched into tight fists. When Ella Craven finally met her stare she was bewildered to see amusement in the other woman's eyes.

"You can have that one for free Keepie, cause I know you're going to be grieving the loss of gland boy." Ella got to her feet straightening out the imaginary creases in her body-hugging black pants. "By the time I've finished with him I doubt he'll even remember your name." Then she swung on her heels and left.

Claire stared after her for a few moments, frustration and panic competing to take hold of her. Darien was in real trouble and she was powerless to help him.


Darien strolled casually down the long corridor from his quarters towards the labs on the same level. He still hated this place and all that it stood for with a passion and would have escaped in a heartbeat had the opportunity come his way, but for now he realized he had to make the best of a bad deal.

They had actually surprised him over the past few weeks. No heavy handed tactics, other than a veiled threat or two from Sartori, and Darien's co-operation had been rewarded in other ways too. They'd called off the "personal security"; his constant companions since his arrival, and he was able to roam relatively freely around the lower levels of the facility, though without security he was restricted mainly to the two sub levels which housed the labs, briefing rooms, gym and his own quarters.

He'd also been moved to far more comfortable and spacious living accommodation, still windowless but, hey, to his mind a small price to pay to secure some privacy and a few of the home comforts he had started to miss so much; like reading material, music and a steady supply of the latest films on DVD.

He wondered absently why he hadn't seen Claire at all since that morning, particularly as they always made a point of spending an hour or so together on their own each day just for a friendly chat and to keep each others morale in check. Darien assumed she'd probably got caught up in some experiment or other and had lost track of the time. He'd know soon enough as he was on his way to find her now.

Pushing open the glass paneled doors he peeked around them into the main lab. Usually at this hour there were one or two technicians around, but tonight the place seemed strangely quiet.

"Yo, Keepie, you in here? Claire!"

A moment later a door on the far side swung open and Dr. Carter emerged carrying a metal surgical tray which he placed on one of the work counters, smiling pleasantly as he caught sight of Darien standing in the doorway.

"Hi doc. Have you seen the Keep…uh Dr, Keeply?

"I believe she's tied up on some research in another part of the facility, but she specifically said to tell you that she would stop by later this evening if she could."

Darien smiled, visibly relaxing. That was so typical of his Keeper; give her a petrie dish, a microscope and a blob of some rampant mutant virus and she was in scienteez heaven.

Carter came towards him.

"She did suggest that we might make a start on your blood work tonight, if that's okay with you?"

"Uh…yeah…I guess." Darien hesitated for a moment; Claire had always been on hand whenever the medical team here had subjected him to another endless round of tests, but then Carter's hand was on his elbow and Darien allowed himself to be gently led further into the lab.

Carter actually liked Darien a lot more than he'd expected. Over the weeks he had seen some of the depth of the real man carefully hidden behind the smart-ass persona he cultivated for everyone's benefit. His intelligence, honesty, humor and innocence in some matters had come as a revelation. Tonight though Carter knew things would be difficult, and he needed to steady his resolve to get himself, and more importantly Darien, through the next few hours.

He waited while Darien shifted his long frame to get comfortable on the administering chair; a modern version of the one back at the Agency only this one was all soft black leather and chrome.

"This shouldn't take too long," the doctor assured kindly. "Why don't you just lie back and try to relax.""

Darien sighed deeply and closed his eyes actually welcoming the chance to unwind properly after a day which had included an intense physical training session with Sartori. His muscles and joints had now started their usual nightly protest though surprisingly not as bad as in the early days, and he had to admit he was now probably in the best shape of his life. Even better than his second stretch in prison when he'd adopted a daily weights routine to alleviate the often mind-numbing boredom, but mostly to bulk up his naturally slim frame in an attempt to ward off the attention it frequently drew from a high percentage of his sex-starved pen pals

Sighing again he could feel the tension of the day start to leave him and then…"Ouch!"

His eyes flew wide open just in time to see Dr. Carter push home the plunger on the syringe currently biting into a vein on the inside of his left forearm. Rather than taking blood out he had just injected something into his bloodstream.

"Hey. What, what the fuck is that?" Stunned and panicking now Darien tried to pull his arm away and get upright, but was stopped by a pair of strong hands which appeared behind him as if from nowhere, clamping him roughly back down on the chair until the doctor had finished what he was doing. Darien wondered just when Sartori had entered the lab; he would recognize those huge ham fists anywhere.

"It'll just take a couple of minutes." Carter withdrew the now empty syringe and spoke, but Darien wasn't sure if he was talking to him or to the other people now within his line of vision; Jonas Spelling and Ella Craven stared curiously down at him while Sartori still held him firmly in place until whatever shit the doctor had just given him took effect.

For a brief moment the big man standing over him relaxed his grip and Darien tried once again to struggle upright, until the drug suddenly kicked in and his world began rotating violently. The hands that grabbed him this time were hardly necessary and he heard himself cry out "No" as he fell back weakly.

"Like a lamb to the slaughter," Ella observed dryly, reaching out one perfectly manicured finger to brush it across Darien's temple. By the way his body jerked to her touch she could tell he was still fighting the sedative.

Carter gave it another minute and then pushed back both of Darien's eyelids to check the pupils and then out of habit his pulse; they were all familiar by now with the side effects random drugs could often have on both Darien and the gland. Satisfied he turned to the young research assistant who had also now joined the small group, and motioned for him to lower the back of the chair into a horizontal position. Once this had been done and Darien was lying completely flat the assistant and Sartori easily flipped him over on to his front, restraints pulled tightly around his body as a precaution.

Jonas Spelling and Ella Craven watched with keen interest

While Darien was being prepped by the assistant, Carter pulled on a pair of rubber surgical gloves and then reached for the second syringe of the night. This one was much larger than the first and already contained the nano-bug within an exact dosage of a dense milky fluid perfectly harmless to the gland.

Carter removed the plastic cap and then stepped forward taking a couple of quick calming breaths.

"Hold him completely still," he urged his assistant whose hands were placed firmly on either side of Darien's skull, pushing the head slightly forward to expose the required section of the cranium as instructed. Sartori who hovered close by in case he was needed suddenly turned an odd shade of green as Carter raised the huge syringe, squirting a thin line of the fluid into the air.

The doctor had to implant the bug in the center of the gland, being careful not to damage any of the surrounding tissue. As an added precaution an MRI scan was scheduled later that same evening to ensure he had hit the target, though he dreaded the outcome – for him - if the scan revealed any damage had been caused by this unconventional procedure.

With the forefinger of his left hand he traced a line carefully up and down the old scar tissue at the base of Darien's skull, locating the exact spot below his hairline then slowly and carefully inserting the thick needle little by little. Darien's body convulsed slightly the moment the needle pierced the gland and Carter pressed the plunger to send the bug directly to its target.

After what seemed like an agonizing eternity to those observing the procedure, Carter carefully withdrew the needle and took a relieved step away, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "It's done," he advised with a relieved sigh


Bobby Hobbes strode purposefully along the hallways of The Harding Building, nodding distractedly to any Agency personnel who happened to pass him along the way. When word was out that he was in the building everyone did their best to keep their distance if at all possible; Hobbes was not a man to approach these days.

Officially he should still have been resting at home recovering from his near fatal head injury, but a little thing like that wouldn't stop him from his daily round trip to make The Official's life a living misery.

He'd spoken to Claire briefly on the phone on a couple of occasions over the past month, and knew that the Fat Man had struck some sort of deal with the Department of Defense that meant his friend was a virtual freakin' prisoner in some underground facility in Nevada.

He burst into The Official's office, not bothering to knock, and stalked across to place both hands on the man's desk, staring down at him menacingly.

"I wanna know exactly what you're doin' to get my partner back?" He'd asked the same question every day now for the entire two weeks he'd been out of the hospital.

Borden turned an accusing gaze on a nervous Eberts, who was hovering by the side of the desk as they checked over some old accounts reports. "Weren't you supposed to post a guard at the entrance?"

Bobby snorted derisively. "If you're talking about your wet-behind-the-ears Men in Black look-alike, I gave him the choice of having the crap kicked out of him or takin' an early lunch break."

Sighing resignedly, Borden gave a wordless signal to Eberts, who gladly beat a hasty retreat.

"Sit down Bobby," he said after a moment, not surprised when Hobbes totally ignored the offer. He pulled off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and awaited the inevitable tirade.

"Don't tell me that you're hands are tied, or that we have to wait until your friends at the White House have got time to deal with this," Hobbes ranted angrily. "All I know is that Fawkes deserves better than this from us, from you.. Let me take a team and bust him out, Chief?"

Borden knew there was nothing he could really say to appease this man and that unless a miracle occurred, and quickly, he would likely lose both of his best agents.

"Bobby, we've been over this before," he responded wearily. "With the level of security they have at that facility you'd never get further than the front gates, trust me on this. And look at you; you're hardly in peak condition, physically or mentally."

Hobbes idly fingered the small bandage covering the scar on the side of his head, brooding.

The Official continued as calmly as possible, "These things take time Bobby. His advisors have assured me that this matter will be given top priority ,but Foreign policy is top of his agenda for the moment."

What Borden didn't dare disclose was his fear that the longer this went on the greater the chance that the QS9300 Project would stay under Spelling's control indefinitely, with The Agency only involved in new research or on a consultancy basis. If this happened then there was a very real possibility that they would lose Darien Fawkes for good; or at least the man they had known.

Hobbes wasn't well enough yet to face this harsh reality, though the Official suspected that he wouldn't be able to hold him back for much longer. It was just a matter of time before Hobbes came up with some hair-brained scheme to break into the facility and extract his partner by force; and more than likely with the willing help of his other partner in crime, Claire Keeply.

Even so, Borden knew for certain that his one good decision recently had been ordering the doctor to remain behind with Fawkes. With Eberts' guidance she'd actually managed to hack into the DoD's main data base and from there access some highly classified research files; among them one particularly interesting piece of information she'd found by pure chance: a security report detailing the theft of a highly toxic nerve agent from a DoD research laboratory in Arizona.

In 1997 the United States and 160 nations around the globe signed an international treaty banning all production and stockpiling of chemical weapons by 2007. The very fact that the DoD was in possession of this potentially lethal chemical weapon at all would be enough to cause an international incident of epic proportions were the news to leak. Which was why Spelling was currently doing everything he could to keep this robbery under wraps from everyone…including his superiors at the Pentagon.

Borden always liked to stay one step ahead of his enemies, so if Spelling wanted to play dirty then he would get his wish.

"I just can't sit back and do nothin'." Hobbes' desperate voice cut across his thoughts. It had already lost some its earlier threat.

Extracting himself with some difficulty from his chair, Borden came around the desk and laid one hand on Hobbes' shoulder, nudging him gently towards the office door.

"Bobby, go home, get some rest. Leave the negotiations to me. You'll be no good to anyone if you don't give yourself time to recover properly. You have my word that we'll keep you fully updated." With a subtle little shove he pushed Hobbes the rest of the way out of the office into the hallway, where the man just stood looking tired, shoulders sagging.

As Hobbes began his slow trek back along the hallway, Borden put his head around the door and called after his retreating agent, "See you tomorrow Bobby."

Outside in the parking lot Hobbes rested his back against Golda, closing his eyes and turning his face to soak up some of the hot afternoon rays, his mind wandering again to his best friend; the kid loved summer days like this. He knew from Claire's updates that Fawkes hadn't been allowed out of the facility since day one.

His sad reflection was brought to and abrupt halt by the beep of his cell phone. Flipping it open he smiled broadly as soon as he heard Claire's voice.

"Keepie. How ya doin? How's my boy?" His smile faded the instant a distraught Claire told him that she no longer had access to Darien and that she was on her way back to San Diego.

TBC