"The Seeds of Destiny"

Chapter 5

One Month Later

"Get dressed Fawkes we're going on a little trip," Sartori ordered, tossing a pile of clothing at Darien, his look alone a warning that he should do what he was told.

"Do it quickly," Ella Craven said with a wicked grin from the open doorway of Darien's quarters, "unless you want Bruno to do it for you. I'm sure he'd enjoy that."

"'Kay I'm dressin', I'm dressin'."

Darien removed his white t-shirt before pulling on the black turtle neck from the top of the pile over his head, all the while aware that both Ella and Sartori were watching him; turning his back as he replaced his sweats for a pair of dark gray jeans.

He had one foot on the bed tying the lace on his second boot when he saw Ella withdraw a small syringe from her pocket, casually motioning for him to roll up the sleeve of his sweater. He knew the routine well enough now to realize that any hesitation would only mean punishment of some kind, so he did what he was told, extending his arm obediently towards her with a sigh.

"Good boy!" Ella smiled up at him as she slid the needle easily into a vein and injected the sedative into his system. Nothing too heavy this time, as they wanted him fully alert and briefed by first light. As she finished, Sartori tossed Darien a black suede jacket.

He had to admit the clothes felt really good against his skin after weeks of wearing nothing but scrubs or sweat pants and they were obviously expensive, not something he would ordinarily have bought for himself. But then the whole thrift store, retro look had been part of the old Darien and his former life. He'd also let them cut his hair into a much shorter sleeker style.

"Hmm…very, very nice." Ella eyed him appreciatively before turning on her heels and leaving the room; a prod in the back from Sartori had Daren following her out into the corridor pulling on the jacket as he walked.

By the time they had reached ground level and the waiting jeep parked right outside the main doors to the facility, the effect of the sedative had started to kick in and Darien's world began a slow spin as he was hustled towards the vehicle, surrounded on all sides by Ella, Sartori and two guards who had materialized as soon as they had exited the elevator.

Bruno and one of the men jumped into the front, with Darien positioned between Ella and the second guard in the back, her hand coming to rest on the top of his thigh, fingers softly and sensually stroking upwards. Despite the sedative and despite his complete distrust and dislike for his Handler, he found his body – or a part of it - reacting in the most basic way to her touch: he shifted uneasily. He knew even without looking in her direction that she would find this amusing, so concentrated instead on his first view of the outside world in many weeks; he'd lost track of how long he'd been here now.

It was early evening and the sun had started its hazy descent towards the horizon, but the heat of the day still lingered and he savored the sweet smell of pure fresh air, along with the warm, invigorating desert breeze on his face as the jeep raced out towards the private landing strip a mile from the facility.

All too soon they were on board one of the DoD's fleet of private jets, with Darien seated mid section; Ella across the aisle from him and Bruno right behind. The two guards who had boarded with them sat at the very front near the cockpit.

Darien stared out of the small window at the already darkening sky as the plane soared upwards, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Don't fight it Darien, we've got a busy day tomorrow and you need your beauty sleep," Ella's voice came softly across the small divide, her hand reaching over to take his.

"You at least gonna tell me where we're going?" His voice had already started to slur.

"That's 'need to know', for the moment anyway," she advised smoothly.

"Ah, the ole need to know. " he smiled vaguely, voice trailing away as he settled back in his seat listening to the drone of the jet engines, before finally giving up the fight as the sedative won the battle of wills and claimed him.


When he came awake it was morning, and for one heady moment he thought he was back in his old apartment in San Diego. Rays of early sunlight filtered in through a small gap in the curtains covering the large window opposite the bed.

Darien rolled onto his back, his hand absently rubbing his eyes as he tried to clear them and focus properly on his surroundings, which he soon realized was a large and very luxurious hotel suite. A sigh and then a warm body stirred in the bed beside him, just before a long shapely arm snaked out from beneath the covers to settle across his bare chest.

"Aw, crap!" A quick check confirmed that he was completely naked and that the woman nestled beside him was Ella Craven. He had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there.

Ella sighed, her hand moving to rest on the top of his inner thigh and Darien flinched as her fingers began making soft circles now even though she appeared to be asleep, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of bed without waking her. He could see his clothing folded into a neat pile on a chair across the room. All he needed to do was gently lower one leg off the side, ease himself over slightly and…."Aaaggh!"

Darien shot bolt upright and practically fell out of the bed in shock, landing in a confused heap on the floor beside the nightstand as Ella's hand found something far more interesting than his thigh beneath the sheets.

"Morning," she chuckled playfully, pulling her sleepy face up and out of the pillows to stare at him in amusement. "Well I certainly didn't get that reaction last night." She raised her eyebrows suggestively, relishing his obvious discomfort.

"Last night? You mean…?"

Ella nodded, giving him a meaningful wink. "Oh yeah!"

"I don't remember a thing." Looking confused Darien ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He vaguely remembered the plane landing...somewhere…and of another journey by car but not much else…until now.

"Well that's your loss honey," she purred. "You obviously do your best work when you're in bye bye land. Ask Bruno," indicating towards the other side of the room where the huge man lay sprawled on the sofa, snoring loudly.

"Aw…CRAP!

Ella laughed again as she sat up on the bed letting the sheet fall, and despite himself Darien's eyes were drawn to her stunning body. She stretched lazily, relishing the effect she knew it had on him.

"Don't fret baby. Bruno just watched. Though I know he'd like to join us some time if you're willing." Eyeing Darien hungrily she patted the vacant spot beside her. "Why don't we try it again now that you're uh…," her gaze shifted deliberately to his groin, "awake?"

Quickly snagging a small section of the sheet that had followed his tumble from the bed, he pulled it across his lower body, consciously enforcing some degree of control with one of the quick breathing techniques he normally used to suppress the quicksilver flow. "Uh, don't we… uh… have to be somewhere, you know, spy business?"

Rising with a cat like grace from the bed, Ella walked across the room towards what Darien assumed was the bathroom. "You're probably right sweet thing, duty calls. Jonas will be here soon to brief us so no more playtime for you until tonight, unless you want to join me in the shower?"

With an amused smile she turned her attention to the hulk lying on the sofa. "Bruno, get your lazy ass up and ready." Blowing Darien a soft kiss she disappeared into the bathroom.

Forty minutes later Darien had also showered shaved and dressed. He'd been given a bag with a complete change of clothing and underwear and various other essential items including an electric razor and toothbrush. The jeans from the previous evening were so comfortable he decided to wear them again, but swapped the sweater for a black long sleeved cotton shirt leaving it hanging loose over his pants. The fit was amazing, almost as if it had been made just for him and he studied the reflection of Darien Fawkes mark 2 in the mirror; the new, sleeker model. 'If Bobby could just see me now." He let the thought trail away, no point going down that road.

He came out of the bathroom to find Spelling, Ella and Sartori sitting on the two big white leather sofas in the room, speaking quietly. They were obviously waiting for him. Ella tapped the seat beside her expectantly as he dropped his bag by the bathroom door and moved across to join them, ever the obedient little pet poodle he thought to himself with not much humor.

The curtains in the suite had been drawn back to reveal large glass sliding doors leading out onto an impressive balcony hovering high above a city; but what city? He craned his neck slightly to see if he could recognize a familiar landmark, a building, anything to give him a clue as to their location. He also realized with a touch of irony, that this was the first real glimpse of daylight he'd had for far too long.

Spelling eyed Darien with approval as he took his place on the couch beside his Handler. .Ella and Sartori had done an excellent job of smoothing Fawkes' rough edges; he might still have a very long way to go to prove himself as a DoD operative, Spelling thought, but at least now he looked the part; a world away from the unkempt punk they'd originally been presented with.

A small laptop computer lay open on the low glass coffee table and Spelling turned it in Darien's direction, to reveal a series of surveillance photographs of a man in his mid-forties, with a dark, swarthy complexion.

"Stefan Largo. Convicted industrial thief and arms dealer; he'll do just about anything for anybody if the price is right. Strictly small time up until about 18 months ago, then his fortune took a turn for the better, coincidently around the same time as the first raid on one of our facilities. The prototype for a new weapon was stolen on that occasion."

Spelling studied the man sitting across from him and was pleased to see that he had his full attention.

"Since then there have been five more robberies, all well planned and well executed by Largo and his gang. They're stealing our research and technology to order."

The mug shot images of three men and a woman flashed on the screen, their ages ranging from early twenty-something to late thirties.

"The last one took place just under a month ago on a small research laboratory in Arizona. They are working on a number of…uh… highly sensitive biological projects at this particular facility, among them a nerve agent, a Sarin derivative, which has the working title of GS-2."

Darien glared at the man. "Nerve Gas, you're making Nerve Gas," he spat incredulously. "I thought that stuff had been banned."

"The GS-2 was only developed for research purposes," Spelling responded defensively. "We never intended to actually use it or for it to leave the facility."

"Well, hey man, that's a relief," Darien offered sarcastically, ignoring the warning glare from Sartori. "Why the hell do you people think up stuff like this in the first place? It's almost like you want some crazy bastard to hold the world to ransom." He let loose a derisive snort of laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. "Largo stole it, right?"

"The one and only canister," Spelling confirmed. "There's absolutely no way they could have pulled off these raids without inside intel - they were too well briefed on the layout of each facility, staffing at any given time of day or night and, of course, the security protocol. Therefore, it's not only imperative that we get the canister back, but we also need to bring Largo or one of his team in for questioning".

He tapped the keyboard and a moment later an aerial map appeared on screen.

"We've tracked them here to Chicago, and if our intel is correct Largo plans to sell the GS-2 to the highest bidder. By all accounts there are a lot of very interested parties."

Well, at least now I know where 'here' is! Darien thought wryly.

"We can't afford to let it fall into the wrong hands," Ella added. He could feel the heat of her body next to his as she pressed in close. "So that's…"

"Where I come in?" Darien finished for her helpfully.

She gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, smiling indulgently. "Good to see that 'above average intelligence' at work baby."

"We've had Largo and his group under surveillance for the past 48 hours," Spelling indicated an area to the north of the city near Lake Michigan. "As you can see it's densely populated, an attempted evacuation would just tip them off so we can't risk moving in until the canister is secured."

"And that's where I come in," Darien mumbled again.

"Precisely!" The Director of the DoD confirmed. "We're sending you in solo with your Handler as control. All you have to do is positively ID Largo and his gang, pinpoint their exact location within the building for our ops team, then grab the canister and get the hell out."

Darien stared back at him suspiciously. "And that's it?"

"Of course." Spelling tried his version of a friendly smile which quite frankly sent a chill up Darien's spine that had nothing at all to do with quicksilver.


"Uh...guys. It looks as if the nerve gas ain't the only thing Largo has on special offer."

Darien kept his voice low, almost a whisper, as he crouched down behind some of the larger crates piled into the basement of the abandoned building, shedding his quicksilver cloak for the moment at least. Even though he now had unlimited use of the gland without risk of turning into a raving red-eyed psychotic, using it over a prolonged period tended to sap his energy levels big time, and he had a weird premonition he was going to need all the energy he could muster before the night was over.

He turned his head so that his Handler and the Special Ops team monitoring his progress from their surveillance vehicle two blocks away, could see what he was seeing via the miniature camera built into his black knit hat; row upon row of crates containing an arsenal of assorted weaponry, including semi-automatic rifles, handguns, grenades plus a few items he couldn't identify but was sure were bound to be bad news.

A few seconds later Ella's voice crackled back in his ear. "Any sign of the canister?"

Darien sighed knowing that was his cue to move, pushing himself to his feet and letting the icy coating flow over his body once again.

The ramshackle factory building, now the temporary hide-out of Stefan Largo and his gang, was located in a run-down district to the north of the city about an hours drive from their hotel and Darien, accompanied as always by Ella, Sartori and his two 'close protection' guards, had arrived in yet another dark SUV just after midnight.

He'd been hastily escorted to the back of another nondescript government van and kitted out with the essential items of equipment for the mission, including the prerequisite miniature camera and headset along with a set of lock picks and a small aerosol can which he was told contained a fast acting sedative; just one spray would be enough to render someone unconscious for at least 30 minutes. As he wasn't going to be carrying a weapon of any kind he would need something to help him subdue the bad guys.

The final piece of gear was a back pack which Sartori strapped into place over Darien's black turtle neck sweater once they were left alone in the van, with a stern warning that it was not to be opened unless the order was given. The big man's threatening stance was all that was needed to stop Darien even from asking what the lightweight bag contained; he knew he'd find out soon enough.

A half hour later after a full briefing and a look at an old architects map of the building, Darien sat quietly in the side doorway of the van waiting for the signal to go in, his 'minders' hovering close by to discourage any unauthorized personnel from approaching or talking to him. He could sense the curiosity and tension from the special ops team who were itching to storm the building, wondering why this one man warranted such high level security crap.

For the most part Darien had been glad of the enforced solitude as he fought to quell the first wave of butterflies in his stomach, before remembering wistfully that Bobby Hobbes had always taught him nerves were good; kept you focused, stopped you from getting too cocky, and he found himself wishing not for the first time that his former partner and friend was there to watch his back.

Getting into the old factory building from the door in the back alleyway had gone without a hitch, the locks were pretty standard and it had taken him under a minute to get them both open. Lousy security considering the artillery Largo had stashed down there, Darien mused.

Now his Handler's voice in his earpiece guided him through the gloom of the basement to a stone staircase over on the far side, which would lead him to the upper levels of the building. There were five stories in all and if the intel was right then he'd find Largo, his pals and hopefully the infamous canister of GS-2 somewhere on the top floor.

Slowly he began his ascent, keeping his back to the wall and carefully picking his way through the garbage and rubble littering the steps, aware that a random noise out of place in the dead of night would bring all the bad guys down on him and probably pissed as hell and armed to the teeth when they came out in force to greet their unwelcome visitor.

Up past the third and fourth floors; his quicksilvered vision better than any flashlight in the darkened building.

At the fifth floor he took a moment to catch his breath, Ella's voice back in his ear.

"Largo should be in the second from last room at the end of the corridor. Stay alert!"

"That's my middle name," he quipped, his voice barely a whisper as he started along the corridor; each of the old weathered wooden floorboards threatening a creaky protest beneath his weight. One of the rudimentary requirements of any good cat burglar was stealth and he now put this skill to good use, finely honed from years of sneaking unlawfully around other people's property, his thick rubber-soled boots barely scraping the floor as he moved.

As Darien reached the doorway he put his back against the wall and leaned in, listening intently. Silence. Cautiously he gripped the handle, turning it as gently as possible, relieved that the door didn't creak as he eased it open little by little. A small lantern positioned on the floor over in one corner of the room cast a warm glow over its two occupants, curled up in sleeping bags on the floor, their handguns within arms length.

The woman sleeping nearest the door was in her early 20s at a guess; the man in the other sleeping bag underneath the boarded up window; Stefan Largo. Darien grinned. This had been easier than expected.

Crossing the room fast he grabbed up both weapons, tucking one into the waistband underneath his sweater in the small of his back. With his other hand he reached into his pocket and withdrew the small aerosol and gave a quick spray into the face of the still sleeping young woman, who in an instant went from sleep to deep unconsciousness without ever realizing it; she'd just wake up with the killer of all hangovers. Satisfied, Darien moved across to Largo and in one fluid motion had the muzzle of the gun pressed firmly against his temple.

The man stirred and then half opened his eyes a moment later when the cold steel prodded him again, his eyes bulging in outright panic as he realized a gun was apparently hovering in mid air above him, a disembodied voice close to his ear whispered menacingly. "Up ya get. Nice n' easy does it."

Darien backed up a few paces to allow the man to climb out of the sleeping bag and get to his feet, at the same time letting the quicksilver flake from his body. Largo looked as if he was about to have a seizure of epic proportions.

"H…how did you do that?"

Grinning and keeping his voice low he leaned in close as if about to share a confidence. "It's an old family secret."

He jabbed the gun a little harder this time into Largo's chest to make his point. "I believe you have something that belongs to the United States government buddy and they want it back."

The look of feigned confusion from the man brought forth a derisive snort of laughter from Darien. Largo might be a lot of things but he was obviously a terrible liar and judging from the lax security and the ease with which Darien had been able to get into his hideout, probably not much of a chief bad guy either. He absently wondered if the robbery at the lab had been a fluke; this clown definitely couldn't have pulled it off without some inside help.

"Let's play a little game pal." Darien's smile was almost charming and his tone amiable, but the underlying menace sent a shiver down the other man's spine. "Uh, it's called 'You give me the damned GS-2 canister, or I'll give you another hole to add to the ones nature intended'." Even as the words left his mouth Darien realized with amusement that they sounded like something straight out of the Bobby Hobbes handbook of fed speak; his partner would have been proud.

Largo gulped as the gun moved from his torso up to the center of his forehead, Darien's finger gently stroking the trigger for added emphasis.

Too scared to take his eyes off Darien the man pointed a nervous finger towards a metallic silver container which sat on the floor over by the far wall. A moment later he stared in wide-eyed disbelief as the tall man held an aerosol in front of him and then cool moisture covered his face.

"Nighty, night!" Were the last words he heard as he crumpled to the floor unconscious, Darien catching the limp body before it impacted, easing him down gently the rest of the way; no need to disturb the neighbors.

Wasting no time now Darien moved across to the container and snapped the locks opening the lid to reveal the small black canister of GS-2 nestled comfortably within a padded interior.

"Good boy." Ella's delighted voice purred at him through the headset; he'd almost forgotten that she and whoever else was with her in the DoD surveillance vehicle – probably Sartori - had seen and heard everything. "Now bring it on home to mamma."

"Yes ma'am," Darien muttered sarcastically as he picked up the small canister with both hands. He knew that just dropping it wouldn't do any damage but nonetheless its potentially lethal contents deserved a degree of caution.

"Okay, I'm coming out." Darien breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way out into the hallway and back towards the staircase.

"You haven't finished yet." Ella's voice stopped him in his tracks, his foot poised over the first step. Those internal alarm bells were jangling again.

"Open the bag Darien." Her voice was soft, but he knew by the tone that she expected to be obeyed without question. He hesitated and she spoke again, more insistent this time. "Open it, or do I need to remind you who's in control?"

Darien shuddered involuntarily at the memory of the many painful 'training sessions' he'd endured with her and Sartori since the bug had been implanted. Spelling's assurance that it was only to be used as a last resort had obviously been lost on his Handler, and he'd quickly come to realize that she got an almost perverse pleasure from punishing him, seeing him writhing on the floor at her feet pleading for the pain to stop. And even more disturbing had been his willingness after a while to do anything it took to avoid it; each incident chipping away little by little at any remaining self-respect..

With a muttered curse he placed the canister down carefully on the floor and hauled the small bag from his back laying it at his feet. Crouching to open it, he felt a surging rage, even though he wasn't all that surprised to find himself staring at the compact explosive device. "No…."

"Set the timer for 5 minutes," she ordered. "And then get your cute ass the hell out of there."

"Ella, there's no need for this, I got what we came for." His hand rubbed the back of his head anxiously. "I…I thought we needed to take at least one of them alive for questioning. Why not just send in the ops team and…"

She sounded impatient. "The plans have changed. We now have everything we need, Largo and Co are expendable." To emphasize her point, Ella hissed the final words. "Now, do… as… you're… told."

Bracing himself for the inevitable, even though the anticipation did nothing at all to lessen the agonizing jolt when it came, wrenching him forward. Darien fought back with some hidden reserve of strength that he didn't know he still possessed to suppress a sharp cry of pain. Then abruptly it was all over and he let out a jagged breath in relief, detesting himself for his fear… and for what he was about to do.

With shaking hands he set the digital timer as ordered, casting one desolate look back to the end of the hallway where two people now lay unconscious thanks to him, with absolutely no chance of getting clear before the bomb detonated. He also knew that at least three more of Largo's team still slept in the other rooms, oblivious to their impending fate. To his mind they at least deserved the chance to face a proper federal court of law. This was cold-blooded murder.

"Darien!" She was even angrier now he could tell and he would probably pay for it later. With another deep breath to steady his resolve he leaned down and quickly activated the countdown mechanism.

Grabbing the canister he moved fast, taking the stairs three at a time and bursting through the basement door back into the alleyway at the same precise moment as the first violent explosion overhead rocked the entire building.

He ran fast and low in an attempt to dodge the debris raining down like missiles, and was halfway along the narrow path when a glancing blow on the head from a heavy piece of masonry sent him tumbling to the ground, where he stayed breathing heavily while trying to shake off a sudden intense bout of dizziness and nausea. Finally his guts contracted violently and the projectile vomit spilled from him until he was just dry heaving.

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve he risked a furtive glance upwards and saw that the two top floors had been completely decimated; the entire building about to be consumed by a fire already raging out of control. A shout and footsteps pounded down the alleyway towards him, then rough hands were grabbing at him and hauling him clear, over to where the surveillance vehicle was now parked across the street.

Pandemonium had broken out with everyone now converging on the scene; people running, voices raised in panic and confusion, shouted orders, everything merging with the noise of a second smaller explosion and the old building starting to collapse in on itself. Sirens wailed somewhere off in the distance.

Sartori had taken the canister and handed it straight to Ella as Darien was dumped by the side of the vehicle where he weakly crawled on all fours, coughing as his stomach threatened another major revolt, bloody tendrils streaking down his face and into his eyes from the deep gash on his head.

There was a commotion off to his left and he immediately sensed Sartori and the two guards moving in to form a protective cordon around him and the reason was clear a few seconds later when Agent Crosby, the leader of the Special Ops team, came storming towards them. The man looked thoroughly pissed off.

"Is someone going to tell me what the fuck just happened?" Most of his fury was directed straight at Darien who could only stare back miserably from his prone position on the ground, unable to react in even the most basic way.

Ella stepped into Crosby's path as the man tried to slip past one of her agents to get to Darien. She shrugged. "Largo must have rigged the place to blow."

"Bullshit!" the man spat out at her, directing an accusatory glare in Darien's direction. "I want a word with your boy wonder."

"Fawkes did exactly what he was ordered to do," she snapped back, waving the GS-2 canister at him pointedly. "Mission accomplished. Now if you're quite finished we're leaving."

"The hell you are. Someone's got to explain this total fuck up to Director Spelling and it sure as hell ain't gonna be me."

She sighed dramatically. "Which is precisely what I intend to do as soon as the canister is in a safe place. Now if you don't mind..." Turning gracefully on her heels and with Crosby staring incredulously after her, Ella walked straight to the SUV parked a short distance away, engine already revving in preparation for their hasty departure.

Irritably swatting away the hands trying to force him to his feet Darien clambered up on unsteady legs using the side of the surveillance vehicle as leverage, casting one last disconsolate look back over his shoulder at the shattered remains of the building before following his Handler to the vehicle and silently climbing into the back beside her.


They headed straight out to O'Hare International airport where the jet was fuelled and waiting on the runway. The moment they were on board and the door closing behind them, Sartori's hand clamped vice like around Darien's upper arm, his other hand held out expectantly in front of him palm upwards.

"Hand it over."

"Hand what over?" He asked innocently.

Without warning the big man punched Darien hard in the stomach, folding him over and he collapsed to his knees gasping like a fish out of water, the sudden and intense impact of the blow making it impossible for him to utter more than the smallest whimper. Then hands were all over him searching beneath his clothing; Sartori tugging the handgun from Darien's waistband and waving it in his face.

"This, smartass." He smacked Darien around the back of the head before continuing to expertly pat him down to ensure he hadn't tried to sneak any other little surprises on board.

Darien had genuinely forgotten about the gun which he'd tucked into the small of his back, having lost the other one sometime during his rapid exit from the exploding building.

'He's clean," Sartori confirmed to Ella who was watching the entire episode from her seat.

"Well that's a matter of opinion,." she responded with amusement, checking out his torn and soiled clothing, matted hair and his bloodied and dirty face; all in all a pretty pathetic sight.

"Go take a shower baby, you deserve it."

Darien nodded, somehow managing to get unaided to his feet. Bent double and with one hand pressed firmly to his throbbing abdomen he moved with difficulty through the cabin to the small bathroom located at the rear of the plane, grabbing his bag from the aisle as he passed. Once inside he leaned back against the bathroom door, closing his eyes and taking big gulping breaths as various emotions washed over him; fatigue, remorse, pain and then a wave of intense relief as he opened his hand and shook off the quicksilver flakes from the small aerosol can.


"What do you mean you don't know where they are?" Spelling was incandescent with rage as he listened to Agent Crosby's account of the disastrous events in Chicago.

"The plane took off from O'Hare and then disappeared off the radar just under an hour ago Sir. They could be anywhere by now."

"Well find them dammit," he yelled into the phone.

How could it all have gone so disastrously wrong when the day had started with such promise? After Darien's briefing Spelling had flown back to Nevada to await an update on what he had no doubt would be a successful mission. They'd have the GS-2 back before his superiors even had to be told it was missing; and from Largo the name or names of the DoD traitor.

According to Crosby the mission had initially gone like clockwork with Fawkes successfully retrieving the canister, after that everything descended into complete chaos and Largo and his team were all believed to have perished in an explosion. Largo's death had never been sanctioned. In fact, they had desperately wanted him taken alive for questioning. Now Spelling had no nerve agent, no Largo and no I-Man.

Could things get any worse?

The phone rang again the instant after he slammed it down on Crosby, snatching up the receiver with a barked "What now?"

"Director Spelling," came the voice. "I believe you have something to tell us?"


As Darien emerged from the bathroom he sensed immediately that something was wrong.

He'd showered in the tiny cubicle and then changed into a fresh pair of black pants and a dark gray long-sleeved t-shirt, doing his best to clean the wound on his head which he suspected might need stitches - if the already spreading stain on the small hand towel he'd used as a compress was anything to go by.

Ella took the cloth, pushing him down into one of the chairs and began gently dabbing at the wound.

"Looks like you'll need some stitches," she confirmed planting a soft kiss on the spot before settling herself comfortably in the seat beside him.

Then Darien realized exactly what was missing. "Where is everybody?"

Reaching across, her fingers had begun to trace small circles on his chest.

"Bruno's flying the plane," she stated matter-of-factly.

By this time her hand had found its way beneath the soft material of his t-shirt and was stroking his chest and then down to the taut flesh of his abdomen. He winced as she nudged the spot where Sartori's fist had impacted; the bruising there was going to be spectacular.

"Uh, isn't that kinda what the pilot's for?" Leaning back in his seat he shifted a little as her caresses became more insistent, knowing he'd need to play by her rules if he wanted to survive this.

"The captain and your little minders had to get off," she purred her eyes flickering towards the doorway and she smiled at his momentary flash of panic. It took real effort for Darien to curb his natural instinct to freak out right there and then at the way she had so casually informed him that the pilot and his guards had been murdered.

Over the noise of the shower and the jet engines he hadn't heard a damn thing.

He turned to gaze out of the small window at the first hint of daylight on the distant horizon. "So I guess that means we're not heading for sweet home Nevada?"

"Uh, uh. We've got a buyer for the GS-2 in LA, a regular client of ours. We stole it to order or rather we had Largo and his team of incompetents steal it for us. But then he got too greedy; figured he could branch out on his own and make a deal behind my back. It's a mystery to me how he survived for so long. The man was a complete loser."

"But did we really need to…you know?"

"You should know me well enough by now never to question me," she hissed, fingers raking painfully across his skin before standing suddenly and moving to the far side of the cabin; turning angrily to face him.

He'd witnessed enough of her violent and unpredictable mood swings to feel a deep sense of foreboding as she toyed with the trigger device strapped as always around her left wrist, hating himself that little bit more as the next pathetic words left his mouth.

"I'm…I'm sorry."

Ella watched Darien intently. There was something about this man that stirred intense feelings within her. The control she held over him was certainly a major part of that appeal.

Those deep brown eyes were staring at her now like a wounded animal and in that instant she made a decision. Darien closed his eyes and gave an audible sigh of relief as Ella walked back to take her seat, and when she started to speak again the easy tone of her voice surprised him

"Largo had to die," she stated with no hint of remorse. "The idiot left a trail a mile wide, it's not surprising Crosby's team managed to track him to Chicago so easily. They wanted him alive for questioning and I couldn't allow that; at least not until I had the GS-2…and you.

"Bruno and I have always had plans for you that don't involve the DoD, but you're a smart boy so you've probably already figured that out haven't you?"

Darien nodded.

The woman reclined back in her seat stretching her long body. "And now we're going freelance," she announced happily turning to stare at him to gauge his reaction before continuing. "We've already had a lot of very interesting offers for your…services."

He couldn't help the snort of laughter. "Well, so much for being top secret!"

"Baby in this business there's no such thing as 'top secret' believe me. You'd be surprised how many people know about the I-Man Project." Her hand reached out to touch his face. "You're a unique commodity. I've had more than one offer to buy you outright and the money's obscene. Hey, but don't worry, I've no intention of selling you to the highest bidder when it will be so much more lucrative for all of us if we just hire you out pro rata."

He took a moment to consider the whole proposition even though he had no real choice in the matter. Still she would expect it, which was why she would also expect the larcenist in him to ask the next question and he was never one to disappoint.

"So what exactly do I get out of this, I mean apart from the prospect of excruciating agony or a life long role as everyone's favorite lab rat?"

"In time a full partnership with me and Bruno…maybe." Her hand reached out again to brush his face but this time he caught her wrist.

"No maybes." His fingers tightened their grip but rather than resist and try to pull away she actually looked excited and he decided to ignore the unsettling feeling that gave him, continuing with his best tough punk impression. "I want a decent cut straight off. After all I'm gonna be the one taking all the risks."

Shifting fast and before he could even react Ella was out of her seat and straddling him. "I just knew there was more to you," she whispered huskily as she ran her eyes appreciatively up and down his body, her tongue darting out over parted lips.

Darien's hand went up to the nape of her neck roughly pulling her down and into him for a deep lingering kiss and when she pulled back a few minutes later it was to stare at him with a mixture of surprise and pleasure, along with a decent measure of outright lust. She had always initiated and controlled any physical contact between them before now; this was the first time he had actually taken the lead and it had caught her off guard.

Meanwhile, his fingers had begun slowly and deliberately tracing a path along her jaw line down her neck and then slipping beneath her shirt to cup a breast. Ella sighed, melting back into him as her lips pressed against his once again with an added urgency, hands finding their way back beneath his clothing, fingers splaying out across his chest.

"Is this a private party or can anyone join the fun?"

Sartori stood in the doorway of the cockpit huge arms folded across him and an amused grin creasing his heavy features, along with something else in his eyes that made Darien shudder.

Ella looked enquiringly at Darien. "I knew he'd want to play with you eventually."

Crap, crappy, crap.

"There's certainly enough to go round." Her hand cupped his face. "I'm okay with it if you are baby?"

Think. Think.

"Hey, can't we just have a bit of time on our own," he whispered softly, brushing his lips across her neck. "Let's send little Bruno to the movies for the night, huh?"

A mischievous smile lit up her face and not even bothering to turn she snapped dismissively at the big man behind them. "Go fly the plane Bruno."

"It's on autopilot," came the sullen response.

"Well find something else to do. OUT"

A moment later he was gone, the cockpit door slamming shut with a bad-tempered thud.

Ella eyed Darien hungrily as her fingers started unbuttoning his pants. "Now where were we?"


He was exhausted! Energy levels at an all time low.

Cupping both hands together Darien hunched his sore and aching body over the small wash basin, splashing cold water on his face and relishing the instant reviving effect.

He studied his disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, his mind reeling with the events of the past 6 hours; had it really only been that long? In that relatively short space of time he had graduated from being the DoD's trained I-Man puppet and No. 1 lab rat and now it looked as if his next big career move would be to part time invisible assassin and possible fulltime sex slave. He sighed, casting a weary glance towards the closed bathroom door, knowing that she would be calling for him any minute now wondering what was taking him so long.

Despite everything he couldn't suppress a satisfied smirk; well it hadn't all been bad! Ella had more sexual prowess and imagination that just about anyone he'd ever met, but right now he had to focus and not allow anything to get in the way of his plan, and he did have a plan of sorts.

A short while before, Sartori had peered cautiously into the cabin to let Ella know they would be landing in approximately 30 minutes. Darien had been dozing at that point, hot, sweaty and totally drained from their physical exertions. Ella had been lying quietly in the seat beside him and he assumed she was resting too, but as soon as Bruno had disappeared back into the cockpit she reached across for Darien again, touching his face and then playing with the short strands of his hair. Groaning inwardly he pulled away and stood quickly.

Ella's hand snaked out to grab his in an effort to tug him playfully back towards her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I need the uh...little boy's room."

"Okay baby, just don't be too long." She smiled at his retreating form and his attempts to re-arrange his clothing as he walked.

The aerosol was still tucked down behind the basin right where he'd hidden it earlier and he quickly retrieved and palmed it. Then taking one last look in the mirror he pulled open the door and returned to the cabin where Ella was waiting for him.

20 minutes later the plane had begun its final descent and below them Darien could see scattered outbuildings and a small deserted airstrip; but then they could hardly fly into LAX under the circumstances.

"Ella." His voice roused her from her light sleep and she opened her eyes smiling lazily. He was standing over her, fully dressed now and wearing the black suede jacket with his gray t-shirt; she thought he looked good enough to eat.

"Are we landing?" She stretched.

"Any minute now," he advised, and then. "There's something important I need to tell you...baby."

She eyed him curiously bringing her seat fully upright and staring up at him as he towered above her.

"Your uh, little business proposition…well it sucks!"

She moved fast but he was faster, quickly grabbing her wrists with one hand and using his body weight to effectively pin her down in the seat before she really had a chance to react.

"You ungrateful bastard," she spat venomously, still struggling against him even though it was pointless. "You'll regret this. I'm going to rip your pretty head off."

"Tut, tut. temper, temper," Darien scolded with a cocky smile. "And while we're on the subject, ungrateful for what exactly?" He gazed at her questioningly. "For saving me from the nasty DoD, or for you getting off on zapping me with the freakin' gizmo in my head? Or because I've decided I'd rather take my chances out there on my own than become your tame invisible hit man!"

"Fawkes," she was almost screaming now and Darien cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the closed cockpit door, thankful for the roar of the engines. "There's no way you're getting away from me gland boy," she snarled putting up another struggle.

"Lady, will you please give it a rest." The aerosol was in his free hand then and he held it up for a second or two so she could get a good look before hitting her right in the face with a long satisfying squirt, her surprised expression saying it all.

"How did…?" and then she was out cold, just like that. Darien gave it another few seconds to be sure and then released his hold, letting her slump sideways just as the plane touched down.

Working quickly now he grabbed her left wrist and pulled at the strap of the trigger device, slipping it into the pocket of his pants he made his way to the front of the plane.

Sartori shut down the jet engines and stared out of the cockpit window to the side of the abandoned runway to where a dark sedan sat waiting, exactly where he'd left it a week previously. Everything so far was running to schedule and he was pleased. They were going to make a lot of money from this venture, enough to set them up for life.

Both he and Ella had suspected they were on borrowed time at the DoD anyway and had been plotting their departure for many months, the canister of nerve agent intended as part of their retirement fund. But then Fawkes had come along and Ella had insisted they take the chance and put their plans on hold for as long as possible.

The whole thing had nearly come crashing down on them when that stupid bastard Largo had screwed things up in Chicago, but Ella's idea to use Fawkes to resolve the problem had been a stroke of pure genius. Now they had the nerve agent, the Invisible Man and a long list of potential customers from every continent. Religious or political beliefs had never bothered them much before when trading DoD technology.

He was still smarting slightly over Ella's earlier dismissal, but there would be plenty of opportunity now to get his hands on Fawkes, and if the punk refused to play nice there was always the handy little bug in his head to force him to submit. Grinning at that thought, Sartori pulled on his jacket and opened the door into the main cabin.

The last thing he saw before something heavy came crashing down on his head was Ella slumped in her seat, and the last thing he heard was Darien's disembodied voice snarling at him. "That's for Bobby you bastard."

Discarding the quicksilver and breathing heavily, Darien tossed the small fire extinguisher on the floor beside the unconscious Sartori. He could just have easily used the aerosol on the big man, but where was the fun in that?

He'd spotted the car out of one of the windows and now searching through Sartori's clothes found a set of keys and palmed them. He also emptied the man's wallet stuffing a wad of dollar bills into the inside pocket of his own jacket.. With a final satisfied grin and the GS-2 canister tucked safely under his arm he stepped off the plane without a backward glance, tasting freedom for the first time in many weeks.