"The Seeds of Destiny"
Chapter 6
San Diego
Bobby Hobbes locked the door of the battered old van and shifted the heavy bag of groceries in his arms, fumbling for his door keys as he walked briskly towards his apartment.
It was a beautiful Californian afternoon with temperatures in the mid 70s and a light breeze coming in off the ocean.
On another weekday like this during what now seemed like another lifetime he would have been at work, but he hadn't much felt like work lately. He'd given it a damn good try though, but it just wasn't the same without Fawkes.
Yeah, the tall ex-thief had the capacity to annoy the hell out of him with his general tardiness, appalling fashion sense and whiney nature, but to Bobby's mind these minor failings were more than compensated for by the deep bond that had developed between them.
The kid had been dealt a shitty hand by the government over the past couple of years; the same government that had stolen his life and now had him locked away in some sterile environment, or doing God knew what.
Everyone had urged Hobbes to be patient, not to try anything impulsive, so he'd kicked his heels for a few weeks while The Official went back and forth to Washington to meet with his cronies. In the end though Claire's premature return to San Diego and pure frustration won out, and that's when he'd decided to get results the Bobby Hobbes way.
Borden was actually wrong when he'd told Bobby he wouldn't get further than the front gates at the Nevada facility. In fact, he'd gotten as far as the second security check point, where he'd stood his ground with a snot-nose army lieutenant demanding the right to at least talk to Fawkes, but of course the smirking bastard had denied he was even there. That little confrontation earned him an overnight stay in a cell definitely too small to swing the proverbial kitty cat and then removal from the area the next day, complete with military escort right up to the State line.
The Fat Man had bawled him out big time for that little escapade, but Bobby didn't care, making it perfectly clear that he had no intention of giving up on his partner, even if everyone else had. For the moment though his options were practically zilch…even Hobbes. net was coming up empty.
Entering his apartment he dumped the grocery bag and keys on the kitchen counter, before going to the refrigerator for an ice cold beer, sighing with pleasure as he took a long thirsty swallow.
"Hey Bobby."
The liquid caught in his throat literally mid gulp at the sound of that familiar voice. Hardly daring to believe, Hobbes turned a slow circle and found himself staring open-mouthed into Darien Fawkes' grinning face.
"Fawkes? What? How? When? "
"Hobbes, you really need to work on those longer sentences."
And there he was, just standing there looking well, incredible actually. He'd put on a few pounds but from what Hobbes could see it was all toned muscle and his clothes were stylish and tasteful, two words he'd never thought he'd use to describe the Fawkes wardrobe. And the hair! Where was all the hair?
Darien raised his hand for a high five and Bobby made to return it, but instead yanked his friend towards him hugging him tightly. And they stood that way for a long time until Darien took a step back, holding Hobbes at arms length to look at him with a mixture of amusement and genuine affection.
"Hobbes, are you crying?"
Bobby quickly rubbed the palm of his hand across his eyes. "Bobby Hobbes don't cry over nothin', and just you remember that buckwheat."
"I remember." And then softly, "Missed ya, man."
Hobbes nodded, struggling with his emotions again. "Missed you too smartass."
A noise from outside had Darien moving fast to the window, pulling aside one of the slats of the blind to stare nervously out into the street. Bobby walked across to join his friend, placing his hand on the small of his back.
"Hey relax big guy, I'm s'posed to be the paranoid half of this partnership." Doing a quick sweep of the street himself out of sheer habit.
Even without looking at him Hobbes could sense his friend's agitation, and his voice when he spoke this time had a troubled quality that was completely out of character, but it was almost as if he felt compelled to explain.
"They…they twisted everything Bobby. I didn't know what to believe, man they even made me think…you know! Ended up like I wasn't sure what was real any more, that's why I had to come here to see for myself, make sure you were …okay." Darien suddenly fell silent, not willing or able to bring himself to say more.
Though words weren't necessary; Hobbes caught the intent and grabbed Darien roughly, pulling him round to face him before he could turn away, one hand firmly on his friend's shoulder and the other clutching his face.
"Lemma tell you somethin', when I'm dead you're gonna be the first person to know cause I'm gonna come back and haunt your skinny ass. You got that?"
Darien gave a nod and then the ghost of a smile.
"Bobby, I'm gonna need your help," Darien said, running a hand over his weary face "It won't take them long to figure out where I am."
The response was immediate. "Anything partner, you know that. So, you gonna tell me what you've been up to and how you got here, or do I have to beat it out of you?"
Darien watched as Hobbes crossed to the refrigerator to retrieve two more Coronas, handing one to him.
"Uh, ya know," he advised casually, taking a long grateful swallow of the cold beer and then wiping the back of a hand over his mouth. "Killed me some people that the DoD wanted to question, which probably means I'm top of their shit list as of right now, screwed and then drugged my Handler, cracked the skull of the Incredible Hulk. And, oh yeah, the gland's got an evil little nano-buddy to keep it company."
"Is that all," Hobbes jibed incredulously. "So, by 'them' I assume you mean the DoD?"
Darien nodded. "Not to mention Ella Craven and Bruno Sartori."
Claire had mentioned both of these names to Hobbes, but he still stared at his friend questioningly waiting for him to elaborate..
"You remember," he pressed. "The brunette who snatched me, legs up to there." He pointed to a spot just below Hobbes' chin, not waiting for a reaction from his friend before continuing, "Anyway, turns out that she and Bruno, the man mountain who tried to brain you in my apartment, are running a DoD secrets and technology for sale scam, with me and the gland at the top of their shopping list."
"And you got away."
Darien nodded. "I got away with…this." As if from nowhere he produced the GS-2 canister. Hobbes didn't have to be told what it contained; he had seen enough bio-hazard warnings in his long career to know it was something bad.
"Are you nuts Fawkes," he yelped, taking a couple of steps backwards, glaring at his friend in horror. "Whatever that is, you have to hand it back."
"I know, I know. " Grinning a little at Hobbes' reaction. "I just wanted to make sure it got into safe hands. If you hadn't been…here, then Eberts was my next call." That comment surprised Bobby, who absently wondered why not Claire, but he let it drop as his friend continued.
"Thought about using it to cut a deal with good ole uncle Jonas, but the man has even less morals than the Fish, which is saying somethin', and there's no way I'm going back with it, not alive anyway."
"Okay, okay." Hobbes laid a calming hand on Darien's shoulder; he needed to think quickly.
"Seems to me that we have to get us some sort of plan."
"We…Bobby I can't ask you to get in any deeper…I thought you could just take the damn canister and then maybe get me a passport, some money…"
Hobbes looked suitably wounded. "Well, think again," he stated firmly. "Bobby Hobbes doesn't bail on his partner."
TBC
