Comments: Thanks very much to all those who reviewed. To respond to the more specific ones, I was hoping you'd feel bad for the mutant, dolphinology. And LOL at Betrayed Daughters...there will be running and screaming in this chapter. As for your other request, you'll just have to wait and see. :o)
Warning: The language in this chapter is a bit more on the, um, "colorful" side. shrugs What can I say, some of the people in this chapter aren't in what you'd call a good mood.
When Even Hindsight is Clouded
Chapter Four: Blinded by the Rising Sun
---New York, New York---
Amid the dying panic and organized chaos of the city streets, one would not even think to look twice at the sight of an M-Force agent dragging a chubby blond man through the streets. The M-Force was notorious for being sticklers when it came to anyone that might have information as to the origins of a mutant attack. This particular agent's motivations, however, were a bit different.
"Tell me again why you need me here," Mendel Craven sputtered, unsuccessful in his attempts to break from Rich's grasp. "I don't know anything that Nick couldn't tell you."
"Yes, but Nick's been working with us for six years now," Rich replied. "The higher-ups would sleep easier knowing what exactly you saw in Solstice."
Mendel scowled. "Can't Nick question me then?" He wasn't completely comfortable around his former boss, but it was human nature to prefer the familiar over a faceless stranger. Probably a mean one to boot. He'd had enough experience with the military-types during his days in HEAT to know civilian knowledge of classified information was a touchy subject.
But he didn't actually know anything that could be deemed classified. He never got to speak more than a few sentences to Winter. All he knew was that Solstice was in the process of developing some new technology that could be of use to the M-Force. Hardly earth-shattering knowledge. Most people knew about Solstice's current relationship with the government. Or at least the part of that relationship they chose to reveal.
Rich firmly shook his head. "I have strict orders to keep you and Dr. Tatopoulos separated for the time being." Raising an eyebrow, he added, "I think you know why."
Mendel's eyes widened. "Wh-what?"
Sighing at the shocked expression on Mendel's face, Rich tried a different, less threatening route. "We're not suspecting any sort of grand conspiracy here. But Nick was unaccounted for before a scheduled meeting with Mr. Winter. He had access to his office."
"He also had access to the bathroom…" Mendel trailed off.
Rich rolled his eyes. "Cameron Winter would just like to cover his bases here. The situation makes him nervous." The M-Force agent eyed his captive. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"I would," Mendel began, "but if you want to know more, I'm not the one you should be asking." Solstice was a major backer of the Force, so Nick apparently kept his animosity towards Winter under wraps. Mendel didn't want to be the one to start the latest extra-juicy office rumor.
Relenting, Rich tried to keep his curiosity under control. "Fine. This isn't about Nick's relationship with Winter." He shrugged. "The theories floating around are probably more entertaining than the truth anyways."
"Theories?" Mendel asked, not sure he wanted to know.
Biting his lip, the agent decided to keep his mouth shut. "They're probably not true." After thinking for a moment, he decided to try another way of extracting information. "But maybe a few hints about why there seems to be tension between them could tell us how suspicious we should be about Nick's disappearance."
"Yeah, they probably would," the blond shrugged. "But it's not my place to tell you. I don't know the entire story anyways." Which wasn't a lie. Nick had remained tight-lipped about exactly why such animosity existed between the pair. He didn't seem the type to hold such a grudge for mere college teasing.
But then again Winter had implanted neural technology to control Godzilla and tried to kill Nick. The first point was pretty much moot since Godzilla was, well, not around any more. Mendel did his best to force his mind down another train of thought. Besides being a complete shock, that final mission had been the beginning of the end for HEAT. Even if he had moved on, the break-up of the team wasn't a fond memory by any means. Despite his complaints, he enjoyed his work. He also had made a few close friends, even if one of them had a certain fondness for making adjustments to his favorite robot.
And in one of those friends…he had almost found more than a friend. Her eyes were finally starting to turn from another colleague and spent a few moments lingering in his direction. Now? After six years, he'd undoubtedly lost all the progress he had made. Not that it mattered. Running into Nick was chance, Monique piled on top of that could be attributed to a whim of Fortune as well. But finding Elsie or Randy too? Luck, or lack of it, only got one so far.
So why was it he had a feeling even more of his past would be catching up with him soon?
"Watch your step." Rich's voice cut into Mendel's musings and he suddenly found himself boarding a large black van.
Alarm bells went off in the robotist's mind. "We're going somewhere?" Getting no response, he pressed on. "What is it you have to ask me that you can't ask somewhere here? There are a couple of empty tents…"
"It's not me who's going to be doing the questioning," Rich clarified as he gestured to a large man sitting in the back. "Meet Tighe." The agent then momentarily disappeared out of sight, shutting the van's back doors before reappearing in the driver's seat. "If you cooperate we should get all the information we need pretty quickly. I could just drive this van over to JFK airport."
"And if I don't cooperate as much as you'd like me to?" Mendel asked. Even if he told them Nick was in Winter's office, he didn't know anything about what the biologist had been doing in there. Besides crashing through a wall with Monique.
Rich shrugged, putting the van in gear. "You'll see."
---Costa Rica---
"They're hiding something," Randy mumbled over a barely touched can of soda. Lounging back in the cushioned chair, he continued to voice his thoughts out loud. "Why else would that be a 'restricted area?''
"Stating the obvious isn't going to help us," Candy said from her cross-legged perch on the hotel room bed. "They've been called in to defuse a dangerous situation. They have the right to fence off any area they want from civilian access."
Her husband looked at her, gears obviously turning in his head. "You're technically not a civilian, are you?"
"Nice try, but for all intents and purposes, I am right now. The M-Force didn't call me in." Candy shrugged. "It may be worth a shot, but I don't think it'll go over very well, especially if I want to bring any of you along."
"You could sneak us in…" Randy trailed of.
"Espionage isn't exactly my forte," Candace retorted. "We'd be just as well off sneaking in there together."
The sound of a creaking door captured their attention as Elsie entered the room, clutching a small stack of papers. Candy looked at her expectantly. "Find anything interesting?"
Pulling out a chair from the room's mahogany desk, Elsie sat down and arranged the papers on the wooden surface before answering. "Interesting, yes. Conclusive, no."
Candace frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well like I originally suspected, the substance didn't originate from any sort of plant. No traces of chlorophyll in sight." Elsie rummaged through the print-outs. "No strong acids either, which was also to be expected. There wasn't any real erosion on the tree we collected it from."
Candy chewed over the new information. "So you know what it isn't. Any idea what it is?"
"Assuming Worthington's equipment is accurate, we've got a very strange mix of chemicals here," Elsie replied. "I can't place a finger on what exactly this substance is supposed to do. But I do know it's not from any natural resident."
"How do you know that?" the blonde asked, intrigued.
Wordlessly handing over the print-outs, Elsie pointed to a line near the bottom. Candy raised an eyebrow before nodding in comprehension. "Metaphaline."
Randy was confused, to say the least. "Metawhatline? What does that mean?"
"It's a chemical Randy," Elsie said, rolling her eyes.
"Well duh, I figured that out," he replied. "So what?"
"It's a synthetic chemical hun," Candy filled him in. "Not something that would be found in any normal animal."
"Oh. So what does it do?"
Elsie sighed. "I don't know. It would most likely depend on what other chemicals it's mixed with."
"Don't we know that?" Randy asked.
"Yes…" Candy trailed off, staring at what Elsie had given her. "But I can't make sense of why all of these would be combined either."
"Metaphaline is manufactured by a German-based company called Alextra." Elsie offered, picking up a sheet of paper still on the desk. "Not much information on its chemicals to be found on the website, but it did have a number we could call." She shrugged. "Might as well start there."
Yawning, Randy voiced his protests. "Can't it wait until morning?"
"Considering Germany's six hours ahead of Costa Rica, it's probably too early in the morning over there to expect anyone to answer," Candy added.
Nodding, Elsie got up and took the papers back from Candace. "I've already talked about it with Worthington. He remembers a contract with Alextra, but doesn't know the details. He also definitely doesn't know anything about exactly what the metaphaline was used for." She sighed. "You two can call it a night. I'm going back to my room to see if I can make anything out of all this." With that, she scooped up her unwieldy pile of paper, fumbling with it as she closed the door.
Randy plopped down on the bed next to his wife. "So…" he trailed off.
Eyeing him knowingly, Candy decided to play along. "Sooo what?"
"Well I was just thinking," he began, gaze traveling around the room. "We're in a nice hotel room…comfy bed…on a bee-yoo-tiful island paradise…" He paused. "Well, paradise if you don't mind man-eating monsters that raid local villages at night."
"Right," Candy said. "Man-eating monsters that we have to do some detective work on, starting early tomorrow morning if we want to beat the goon squad." She shifted, pulling the covers out. "So we're both going to get a good night's sleep."
Staring dumbfoundly, Randy could only manage "But…Candy…" he started, silenced when she threw the comforter over his head. Glowering he crawled under it, muttering under his breath. "Some tropical vacation…"
Turning off the bedside light, Candy grinned. "I love you too hun."
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"Dammit," Elsie cursed, dropping yet another stray piece of paper on the hotel floor. It would've been a bit more practical for Worthington to book them rooms closer to one another. Wasn't like he couldn't afford greasing the hotel bureaucracy's wheels to get them to accommodate the rag-tag band of mutant hunters.
Mutant hunters. Huh.
No, that definitely wasn't what they were. "Detectives" was more like it. They were just there to do some sleuthing and try to put together the pieces that the M-Force couldn't. God knows what they would do if they actually came face to face with the creature. Sure Phillip and Candy had packed tranquilizers and stun guns, but no one had any way of knowing if they would work. How do you measure the correct tranquilizer dosage for a creature you know nothing about?
"You don't," she muttered aloud. "You just shoot and hope to God it felt at least a tickle."
A nearby housekeeper's ears pricked, and she turned and regarded Elsie strangely. Managing a light, sheepish laugh, the redhead came up with the best possible excuse. "Lizard problem." She winced. It probably wasn't a complete lie, but it was a weak one at best.
The maid wasn't fooled. "You are here about el monstruo?" she asked, her English only lightly dusted by a Costa Rican accent.
"No," Elsie answered quickly. Those M-Force agents knew where they were staying. She wouldn't put it past them to interrogate the hotel staff to figure out why they were really here.
"Si, of course," the housekeeper nodded. "None of you are ever here about that. Even the ones in uniform." She shrugged. "But we know."
Sighing, a twinge of sympathy for the woman and the other locals tugged at Elsie. "I'm not here with the people in uniform," she offered. "They're probably the last ones who'd want me here."
"And we are the last ones who would want them here," the maid sharply retorted. "They spend weeks shutting off parts of the island, combing through the beaches, harassing us…" She closed her eyes, a painful memory coming to the surface. "My nephew, he was playing with a friend on the beach. My sister left them for three minutes, that's all. When she comes back…all that's left is their ball. No blood, nothing like that." She shrugged. "We thought maybe they ran off, or got carried away by the tide. Only when those people bring back Juan's torn shirt…then we know."
Elsie could only stare wordlessly, unsure of what to say. The Costa Rican only let a momentary pause go by before starting up again, her words now filled with anger. "And what do they do after telling us Juan and Pedro are dead? Not say they are sorry. No, no time for that. They just ask us question after question, not even giving my sister a moment's rest."
Her eyes rose to meet Elsie's. "She just found out her son was dead, yes? They should have come back later. But they're impatient, wanting to know everything about the boys. Silly things, like what they had eaten or if they used, what was it, 'scented soap.'" She laughed dryly. "Those people don't know anything. They are making up nonsense that they think could have caused that attack."
"Sometimes," Elsie began slowly, "the most trivial of things might have something to do with it. Maybe they saw a pattern in past victims and were looking to see if it continued."
The maid shook her head firmly. "No. This thing, this creature, it does not follow any sort of pattern. They will never be able to stop it if they pretend it does." She was quiet for a moment. "Even so, they refuse to tell us anything they do know. Anything that could protect us." She paused. "I think they are hiding something. That they are not the innocent peacekeepers they make themselves out to be."
The last statement caught Elsie's attention. "What makes you say that?"
"Instinct," she shrugged. "It is all any of us have to go on anymore."
Elsie was silent, seemingly thinking over something carefully in her mind before speaking. "It may be all you have now," she said, "but it doesn't have to be that way forever." She evenly met the Costa Rican's gaze. "I promise you, I will figure out what 'those people,' are trying to keep quiet. And what they haven't yet uncovered themselves. And when I do, I'll make sure your people are the first to know. Not the government, and definitely not the M-Force."
The maid nodded, an air of disinterest still hovering above her as she turned back to her work. "I will take your word for it senora. We will see how much that is worth."
---New York---
Two brown eyes opened lazily to greet the sterile scene in front of them. Their owner found herself in small room with eggshell colored walls. Curtains separated the Spartan cots that lay only a few feet off the ground, but the size and thinness of the material did not offer too much in the way of privacy. Though a shadowed form behind a neighboring curtain blocked her view, the Frenchwoman instantly recognized the familiar din of a medical center.
A sharp pain in her forehead alerted her to exactly why she was in a hospice. Gingerly raising two fingers, Monique ran them over the terrycloth bandage tied securely around the top of her head. With no reflective surface to examine the injury she couldn't be sure of its nature, but she could be fairly sure that, should she examine the damp spot she had just found in a mirror, she'd be greeted by the sight of a crimson stain.
Parfait.
Since she had no recollection of ever being transported to a hospital, Monique could only assume she had spent a solid amount of time unconscious. The critical question was how much time. She had only three days to complete her assignment. If she had been knocked out for longer, the Ring would assume she'd failed. Worse, her not showing up at the designated pick-up area would lead them to believe that at best she'd been killed, and at worst she'd been caught. And if whoever had uncovered her didn't already feel the need to dispose of the assassin, the Ring would gladly take care of that for them. Agents were useless once the authorities had any sort of solid record of their existence.
Monique closed her eyes and took in a calming breath. Panicking would not help. She needed to do her best to establish exactly what her current situation was as discretely as possible. That meant finding out only three things: what day it was, where she was, and who had taken temporary custody of her.
Since she could see no calendar or timepiece in the immediate area, the assassin moved past the first question, saving it for later. Instead, she focused back to what she could remember. She had successfully infiltrated Winter's office and had been staking him out. But something had obviously gone very, very wrong.
Monique winced, the pounding in her head almost overwhelming her. She had somehow earned a head injury, but her recollection of how was hazy at best. It wasn't a confrontation of some sort; of that much she was certain. But there was another person involved. Not Winter, but she had the nagging feeling that it was someone important.
But important how? The only people that were important to her now were her targets and her superiors in the Ring. And she highly doubted a Ring official would just stroll on into Cameron Winter's office. So that meant she was most likely thinking of someone that had been important at some time, but didn't really matter anymore. Or at least she hoped they didn't matter. If it was someone who knew her, someone from her old life, then they may have been the ones who brought her here. And they would definitely have questions. Questions she had no intention of answering.
Voices just outside the door caught her attention. Sharp ears trained by years of necessitated experience picked up a hushed discussion. "…Thirty-something Caucasian female…she was at the site of the attack and they brought her in with a concussion."
The volume of the conversation dropped further, and Monique could barely make out "But why is she here? The other victims are being treated either on-site or at city hospitals."
So she was in some kind of specialized private institution rather than a public one. Whoever brought her here had some connections, but she still didn't know what those connections were. She put off mulling over the bewildering statement to try and listen to the rest of the conversation, frowning when she realized she could only make out bits and pieces now. "…was very adamant about bringing her with him…don't know…no record…agent…on file…"
Her heart rate increased exponentially. Agent? A Ring of Fire agent? So far all her missions had been accomplished sans witnesses, and she didn't leave a calling card, so it wouldn't surprise her if the authorities had no specific file on her. That, however, was little comfort. Having an agent in their clutches was infinitely more valuable to the authorities than a manila folder.
Taking another deep breath, Monique let the instant of panic pass to look at the situation rationally. "Agent" could refer to a thousand different things. And if they really suspected she worked for the Ring, they wouldn't leave her unsupervised with other patients.
Still, her instincts told her this was not a place she wanted to be. There was only one course of action to take. It didn't matter that the Ring would be angry as hell over her going AWOL. They could try to do whatever they wanted in the future. The only thing that mattered now was the present.
She had to get out of there, ASAP.
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"Watch it!"
Nick barely jumped out of the way as a nurse pushing a tray table barreled by. Not stopping to wonder why she'd be in such a rush, he craned his neck to look for the room number an orderly had given him. A right turn and walk down a long hallway was all it took before both the number and a portly middle-aged doctor, came into view.
Nick groaned. He had hoped to be as discrete as possible when dealing with Monique. If the doctor recognized him, he'd no doubt grill him for any and all information Nick had about the mystery patient. Unfortunately he didn't know much about what was going on, and he wasn't quite ready to give out the information he did have at a moment's notice. He had to assess his situation with Monique before revealing anything to a third party.
But he also wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, which eliminated coming back later as an option. Slowing his fast-paced stride down, he announced his presence with a "How is she?"
Dr. Aliverez started and looked up, not expecting any visitors after the colleague he had been talking to left to attend to other patients. He pushed his wire-frame glasses up his nose before responding. "The injury is serious, but not life-threatening, She'll probably have a headache for a good while after she wakes up."
Nick nodded, barely digesting the information as his mind raced at a mile a minute. "Is she awake?"
"Last time we checked, no," Aliverez answered.
Despite a neutral outward expression, Nick scowled internally. Monique wasn't any good to him unconscious. He had a thousand questions for her, ranging from why in God's name she'd left the DGSE to join the Ring, to what if anything she knew about the murder of a reporter who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He wasn't fooling himself into thinking he'd get any straight answers, but there was no harm in trying. At the least he might be able to convince her to stay with him for a while. For old times' sake.
Or because of the fact that he knew who she was, and that she had a mark on Cameron Winter.
Still, the latter wasn't information he wanted to give out. If Monique knew he had discovered her new line of work, she'd probably kill him. The indentation from the knife she'd held to his neck was testament to that. It wasn't a pleasant line of thought, but he had to be realistic. Assassins generally didn't like people who knew their identity to be anything above six feet under. He had to tread very, very carefully here.
"Can I go in and see her?" He'd imagine she'd wake up soon, and he knew her well enough to realize she'd bolt as soon as she regained consciousness. Even if he hadn't yet formulated a plan of attack, instinct told him he didn't have much time before the opportunity to finally gain some insight into Audrey's death would pass by.
Aliverez paused for a moment before nodding. From what he could tell, Nick wasn't family, but he seemed to be the best connection to the woman's identity that they had. "But first we'll need you to fill out some paperwork."
Nick raised an eyebrow before moving towards the door. "I doubt I could be of much use there."
"Then at least give us something to put here," Aliverez pleaded, pointing to the blank 'Name' field.
A cursory glance was all Nick granted the clipboard before opening the door and stepping inside. "Jane Doe is fine."
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'Jane Doe?'
At least they didn't know who she was.
Still, something about the statement troubled her. The voice had been muffled, but it seemed very familiar. It no doubt belonged to someone she knew. The important question was, did they know her?
Her careers as both a secret service agent and an assassin had led to more than her fair share of stakeouts, a good number of them having been in New York City. Perhaps the voice belonged to an associate of a past target. Not much danger there, since she was sure none had seen her face. She prided herself on her stealth and discretion above all else.
That wasn't to say a potential threat didn't exist. She still couldn't be sure as to whether or not anyone knew she worked for the Ring. If they did know, someone close to a past victim might set off alarm bells, probably not caring whether or not she actually was the agent that had committed the crime. And she doubted the US Government would be too picky on exactly which charge they threw an international assassin in jail for.
The door creaked as it shut and footsteps padded their way into the room. Monique quickly drew the white curtain around her bed and then held her breath, hoping they'd pause at one of the cots closer to the entrance.
No such luck. The echoing steps only ceased once they were squarely at her bedside.
She could delineate the outline of a man, a little over six feet tall, medium build, and with short hair. The Frenchwoman scowled. The ultra-generic description did her no good in identifying him.
Monique drew in a breath, steeling her nerves. Her head felt heavy as blood pounded in her ears, and intermittent bouts of nausea plagued her without warning. Even sitting up she had trouble keeping her sense of balance, body rocking back and forth ever so slightly, fighting to resist the temptation to fall backwards in surrender. She was nowhere near top form, and unarmed, to top things off. But whoever was out there undoubtedly knew she was awake. Concussion or not, she had to act quickly. It was risky, but then again, she couldn't name many things she'd done in the past eight years that weren't.
Tensing after another deep breath, she forced herself to remain completely still. The shadowed head beyond her curtain quirked slightly, indicating she had caught her visitor's interest. As the outlined form moved to the curtain to pull it open, she watched carefully for the first glance of an actual hand. Once it appeared, she grabbed it and lunged up and out of the bed.
But apparently, he had been expecting that. The dizziness clouding Monique's head became unbearable once the hand she grabbed escaped, grasped her arm, and spun her around. Her legs buckled and she suddenly found herself in a tight hold, one arm twisted behind her back. Breaking away, she didn't even wait for the room to stop spinning before making a quick turn on shaky legs and an throwing an ill-aimed punch that missed the fuzzy outline of his head by at least four inches. Grabbing her wrist before her balled up hand could retreat, her mystery visitor used his other arm to steady her. Gradually, her surroundings came into focus, and she blinked before squinting at the face in front of her. Eyes widening in recognition, the memories she had struggled to recollect earlier came flooding back.
Nick just offered a slight, rather cryptic smile. "Thought you could use the same move on me twice in the same day, huh?" In reality, she probably could, but her concussion at least gave him a bit of a temporary advantage.
Monique stiffened and pulled back again, calves coming to rest against the edge of her bed. She held his gaze, expression remaining decidedly neutral despite a pounding headache that suddenly became much more intense.
Correctly guessing she wasn't going to say anything, the biologist tried to put her at ease, or at least prevent her from feeling threatened. "How are you feeling?"
The Ring of Fire agent wasn't sure as to how to respond. Most likely Nick was genuinely concerned, but she did not want to reveal the extent to which her injury affected her to anyone. Sitting down on her cot, she simply said, "I am fine."
"You've been better," Nick replied, glancing at the space next to Monique. Six years ago he'd go ahead and sit right next to her. Now? They probably needed a little more space. Rolling a nearby chair over, he settled himself directly across her. "You were unconscious when I brought you here."
"I gathered," she replied dryly. Her hands went to her bandage. "Concussion?"
"Looks like it." He paused, studying her face. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Do you?" It was a long shot, but Monique wasn't taking any chances.
Nick nodded. "Our impromptu reunion was interrupted by an oversized green-skinned tourist."
A mutant attack. Monique hadn't known about that. It seemingly explained Nick's presence, but at the same time made completing her assignment even more unlikely. If Solstice Headquarters was in the same shape she was, she doubted Winter would stick around. If luck was against her, the CEO might have already chartered a private jet to God-knows-where. Meanwhile she would be stuck trying to explain away her hiding in his private office.
Speaking of Winter's private office, what was Nick doing there? She hadn't been keeping tabs on her old teammates but she very much doubted the past animosity between the pair could have been buried to the point that the CEO would trust Nick in his office. She knew Nick well enough to realize he wouldn't be fooled by any benign explanation for why she had hidden herself behind Cameron Winter's office furniture. But she took solace in the fact that there probably wasn't a benign explanation for why Nick was there either. If he blew her cover, he'd inevitably reveal his own deeds as well. The only solution would be for both to keep quiet.
You scratch my back…"So how much do you remember?" Nick's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You don't happen to recall where we were?"
Monique leveled her gaze with his, calculating exactly how to play this. "Non. I do not."
Nick looked away, apparently thinking something over. "We were in Solstice Technology's headquarters." He paused abruptly, as if he meant to say more, then decided against it. "You remember Solstice, right? Cameron Winter's company?"
"Bien sur." So he wasn't going to lie to her, but wasn't about to tell her the whole truth either. Fine. Monique had no intention of trusting him in the first place, but this only validated her instincts. Nick was not supposed to be in Winter's office, and he wasn't about to let anyone in on his little secret.
The corner of Monique's lips twitched. As much as society liked to preach ideals of sacrifice and selflessness, the instinct for self-preservation still ran strong through the veins of every human being. Nick's desire to keep anyone from discovering what he was up to could come in handy in the near future. But for now, Monique was holding her cards close. She didn't need to show her hand until absolutely necessary.
"Solstice is a major sponsor of the M-Force," Nick continued, oblivious to the sudden glint in Monique's eyes. "I work with the Force now," he added, as he seemed to realize she probably wasn't aware of what he had been up to in the past six years. "They had some new technology to show us. Us being the M-Force. Well, kind of. Technically I'm not a full-fledged agent, but…" He shook his head. "It's complicated. And not important, at least not for our purposes. There was a meeting, they asked me to come. The tech was meant to be used in the field and they figured I'd be the best person to ask about how useful Winter's new toys would be, since…" he glanced at her. "Well, you know."
Nick probably didn't realize it, but he was babbling. Something was making him very, very nervous. The possibility of being caught breaking into Winter's office?
Monique frowned. As far as he knew, she didn't even remember where they were. He shouldn't be anxious about that. Something else was wrong. She looked at him critically. How much did he know…?
"Anyway, that's my story. I can't say Solstice ranks high on my list of places I'd most like to be," he admitted, "but they pay the bills, and money talks more than some old college grudge."
The assassin very much doubted that was the case. Ignoring the fact that the rift between Nick and Winter was much more than some "college grudge," Nick, or at least the one she used to know, was a highly principled man who would need more than money to collaborate with someone he disliked as intensely as Cameron Winter. Still, she remained silent, waiting for him to continue. If things had changed so drastically, he'd reveal that soon enough.
"I realize this probably falls under the realm of classified information, but what interest does the French government have in Solstice?" he asked.
So he didn't know. He thought she was still a DGSE agent. That was one illusion she'd take care not to dispel. "I believe you answered your own question, Dr. Tatopoulos." She offered up a small, knowing smile. "Classified."
A similar smile broke out on Nick's face, though his appeared to be a bit forced. "I figured as much. Can't blame me for trying though."
"I suppose not," Monique agreed, arching her back as she feigned a stretch. "But enough about where we were. Where are we right now?"
"An M-Force medical facility." Nick explained, his gaze lazily wandering around the room. "It's mostly used for agents, but I squeezed you in." He looked back at her. "I figured you'd rather be treated here than a regular hospital. It's a bit more, uh, 'discrete.'"
She raised an eyebrow, giving him a sideways, disaffected, glance. "How considerate of you."
A mix between a cough and nervous laugh escaped Nick's throat as he found himself at a loss for what to say. Deciding to drop the issue, he returned to their original point of discussion: her health. "You must be feeling a little better. Think you can walk?"
"Perhaps," she replied, rising to her feet and taking a few shaky steps. She still felt lightheaded, so her balance wasn't yet up to par. Still, it would have to do for now.
Nick apparently didn't agree. "You should stay here a while longer. You're not fully recovered yet."
Shaking her head, Monique turned to walk away. "With all due respect, Dr. Tatopoulos, I am afraid that is not possible." After a few hobbling steps, she stopped to get her bearings and glanced back at Nick.
He once again seemed to be searching for something to say. By now it was quite obvious he wanted her to stay. It was his motivation that Monique was unsure of, though she didn't plan on sticking around long enough to find out what that was. Resuming her trek towards the door, Monique's gait straightened with each step. She had a job to do, and she'd be damned if she was going to let someone from a past life interfere with her current one.
"You know I have another meeting with Cameron Winter scheduled," Nick called after her, an almost desperate tinge to his voice. "We could always use another 'expert opinion,' on the effectiveness of his new weapons system."
Monique froze. If he was trying to get her attention, he certainly had it. She turned towards him, cocking her head in a signal for him to continue.
Nick shrugged. "It's just a suggestion. Might be of some help in whatever mission you're on here."
Shifting her weight so that she was now fully facing him, Monique crossed her arms across her chest. "I'm listening."
Taking a step towards her, Nick opened his mouth to speak when an orderly abruptly flung open the door. "Dr. Tatopoulos?"
Annoyance quickly masked the look of surprise on Nick's face. "What?"
"Phone call," the orderly replied, holding out a cordless phone.
"Can't it wait?" Nick asked tightly, glancing over at Monique long enough to notice her grow restless.
The orderly shook his head. "It's an agent in Costa Rica. Apparently they saw something during a routine sweep through the jungle. Said it was important and that you specifically would want to know about it." He followed Nick's gaze. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No," Nick replied, the irritation in his voice a clear signal to the contrary as he snatched the phone from the orderly's outstretched hand. "Tatopoulos."
Monique raised an eyebrow as she noticed Nick's expression register a moment of bewilderment. "Slow down, you think you saw who?" he asked.
A few beats passed, filled by a busy chattering on the other side of the line. "And you're in Costa Rica right now? There's got to be a mistake." More chattering. "No it's not that I don't trust you, it's just that-" Nick scowled as the other person apparently wouldn't let him finish. "Well what reason would they have to be in Costa Rica anyways?"
Another pause, before two blue eyes rolled. "Yes I know what they used to do. I was there you know. I just-hold on a second." Nick put his mystery caller on hold and then rummaged through his pockets before retrieving a vibrating cell phone. He stared at the number on the screen for a moment, frowning slightly before turning to the orderly. "Is something going on in Japan?"
The heavyset man shrugged. "Not that I've heard of, sir."
Shrugging, Nick held the phone to his ear. The rapid chatter that immediately followed was remarkably similar to that of the previous call. Nick's reaction, however, could not have been more different. His eyes widened, face contorted in what could only have been pure shock. Monique couldn't help but catch the slight strain in his voice when he finally spoke. "Could-" he began, before swallowing loudly. "Could you say that, again?"
---Japan---
"All units proceed to the Osaka harbor! I repeat, all units to the harbor, NOW!" Agent Takashi of M-Force Japan barked into a walkie-talkie, moments before being thrown to the ground by the force of Godzilla leaping from the ocean and onto dry land. "Kuso!"
Screaming onlookers quickly scattered, some barely escaping an unwitting crushing courtesy of the mutation's feet. For his part, Godzilla did not seem to be all that concerned with the people on shore, setting his sights squarely on the beckoning city skyline.
Takashi picked up his walkie-talkie as he struggled back to his feet. "Stop him from reaching the city!"
A static-laced reply forced its way through. "We're trying!" an unidentified, obviously distressed voice cried. "But we're not ready yet!"
Sure enough, the M-Force and Japanese military were throwing every bit of artillery they had at the moment at the invader, but each shot was either evaded or exploded harmlessly against Godzilla's thick skin.
"You guys look like you could use some help."
Looking up, Takashi thought he would faint with relief. "Agent Hicks!"
The high-ranking M-Force official nodded curtly. "We've been receiving tips that Japanese fishing boats were going down for no apparent reason. Bit too strong a sense of déjà vu for our liking."
"Unfortunately it looks like your instincts were right," Takashi said ruefully as Hicks motioned him into an SUV. "I can't say we expected we'd ever face a threat on this level again."
"He's been taken down before," Hicks stated, putting the car in gear and tearing after Godzilla's rapidly retreating figure. "If need be we can do it again."
Offering up a cryptic smile as Godzilla tore the roof off the Osaka fish factory, Takashi only said, "I wish I could share your confidence."
Hicks brought the car to an abrupt halt near the factory and jumped out. "I want twenty units surrounding him, now!" Manpower was still limited, but he was confident they could at least keep Godzilla at bay until reinforcements arrived.
The summoned forces quickly moved into their respective positions, readying their weapons.
"Fire at will."
Immediately a barrage of smoke filled the air. Godzilla roared in rage at his attackers, breathing in deep before spewing radioactive fire over the nearest camp. A sharp twitch of his tail collided with a nearby building, shaking it to its foundations and leaving a band of Japanese soldiers on its rooftop holding on for dear life.
Takashi squinted at Godzilla's body. "I don't see any significant damage."
Through gritted teeth, Hicks watched as Godzilla brought an enormous foot down upon a unit of M-Force agents that frantically leapt out of the way. When the appendage rose again, the Major let out a slight breath as he saw no crushed human remains, then scowled as he saw the twisted metal of destroyed weaponry in its place.
Sharing Hicks' discontent, Agent Takashi once again barked orders into his walkie-talkie. "We need to hit him harder!"
"Hit him with WHAT?" came the irate reply.
Takashi realized he didn't have much of an answer for that.
Deciding he'd had enough, Godzilla moved on, the ground trembling as he made his way deeper into the city. He paused to slash through a high-rise apartment building, sending unfortunate tenants crashing through now-shattered walls.
Hicks frowned. Godzilla seemed to be destroying for the sake of destroying. That level of aggression was uncharacteristic, to say the least.
The mutated behemoth turned to seemingly subject another skyscraper to the same fate, when a blast of bullets from behind caught his attention. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the outline of three military helicopters hovering nearby. Growling, Godzilla turned away from the building and swiped at the new enemies, causing a gust of air strong enough to temporarily render the copters off-balance. Fortunately, they regained their invisible footing and took off, successfully luring Godzilla away from the more densely populated areas of the city.
A small sigh of relief escaped Takashi's lips. "That should buy us some time..." he trailed off before Godzilla promptly roasted one of the helicopters. "Or not."
Hicks ran back to the SUV, grabbing the radio microphone. "I need some backup here!"
"It's coming," the M-Force dispatcher tried to reassure him. "Just twenty more minutes."
"I don't think we have twenty minutes!" Hicks yelled, becoming more agitated by the second. "In case you haven't noticed, Godzilla is on the warpath!"
"Whaddya expect me to do Major?" the dispatcher replied in a slight whine. "Reinforcements are coming as fast as they can. Unless you've invented some sort of teleportation device they couldn't get there any faster."
Disgusted, Hicks slammed the microphone back into its cradle, not bothering to reply. He tuned the dial to contact M-Force leadership directly when his cell phone rang. "Bit of a bad time," he muttered, flipping it open to see who was calling. His eyes widened when he say the named plastered across the tiny plasma screen. Pressing the green talk button, he growled, "You've got some nerve calling me you son of a bitch."
The voice on the other end of the line was eerily calm, to the point of almost sounding affected. "The project's encountered some unexpected roadblocks."
"No shit!" Hicks snorted. "I've got an 'unexpected roadblock' destroying Osaka, Japan, as we speak."
"But anyone knows even the most daunting obstacles can be overcome," the voice continued. "It's just a matter of finding your way around them."
"Yeah?" the Major scoffed. "Well you better find a detour around this one damn fast, or believe me, heads will roll."
"Are you threatening me?" A slight edge entered the other man's voice.
"You can be sure of it," Hicks replied. "Fix this. Now." With that, he clicked off his phone, just in time to see another helicopter crash into an abandoned warehouse.
"We need to evacuate the city!" a nearby Japanese official cried.
"There's no time!" Hicks shot back. "Use the emergency broadcast system and tell people to get indoors, ASAP."
"What protection will that offer?" Takashi asked skeptically.
Major Hicks shrugged. "None, really. But we can't have the entire population of Osaka flooding the streets in mass panic, can we?"
The ground shook as the last remaining helicopter drew Godzilla closer to the two men's position. "I don't see how this is that much better," Takashi replied dryly.
Ignoring the Japanese agent, Hicks gestured to the surrounding forces. "Run for cover!" Their current artillery was a mere annoyance to Godzilla, meaning the best course of action would be to lay low while keeping him out of the city. Hicks only hoped the last helicopter could last long enough to keep Godzilla busy until backup arrived.
Scanning the immediate area, Takashi pointed to a collapsed, one-story tenement. "Over here!" he yelled, motioning for Hicks to follow. The pair started in a sprint towards the ramshackle shelter, only to stop dead in their tracks when Godzilla leaped over their heads and landed squarely on top of their would-be safe haven. Shaking, Takashi stepped back. "I don't remember him being this fond of acrobatics."
"A lot's different," Hicks said, keeping his voice low. Godzilla turned around to face the two men, a distinctive leer visible in his reptilian eyes.
Takashi swallowed hard. "What does he want?"
"Believe me, if I knew, I'd tell you," the Major replied, slowly backing up as well.
"I think there is a watchpost behind us," Takashi whispered. "Maybe we can-" He was abruptly interrupted as Godzilla ducked his head down and snorted hard, knocking the two men on their backs. "Oh shit…"
Hicks instinctively shrank back from the massive jaw. "He only eats fish."
"A lot's different," Takashi parroted in response, wholly disturbed by the way Godzilla was looking at them.
Sniffing for a moment, Godzilla jerked his head back up. The M-Force agents blinked. Had he changed his mind?
Their question was answered in the worst possible way when Godzilla let out an ear-splitting roar. Opening his mouth wide, the mutant rapidly descended on his prey.
Takashi found himself frozen with fear as his entire body went numb. Distantly, he heard screaming, not entirely sure if it came from himself or Hicks. Probably both. He finally dragged up the presence of mind to duck his head and clench his eyes shut as he waited for the fatal crunch.
It never came.
Shocked, Takashi opened his eyes and looked up. Godzilla was standing upright again, shaking his head slightly. His movements became almost robotic as he backed away from the two men. A light behind immense golden eyes seemed to suddenly dull, and the mutant's entire body seemed to sag. Without making a sound, Godzilla slowly turned around and trudged his way back to the sea, silently disappearing beneath white-tipped waves.
The agents rose to their feet, still numb with shock. "What was that all about?" Takashi asked.
Hicks remained silent, eyes focused on his now ringing cell phone. Picking it up, he did his best to control the inevitable tremor in his voice. "Cutting it a bit close there."
"I told you so-called 'roadblocks' could be avoided," came the smug reply.
"Right," Hicks swallowed, staring at the spot where Godzilla had plunged beneath the ocean surface. "Until you crash right into one."
Takashi gave Hicks a curious look, not entirely sure of whom he was talking to. "I'd say Gojira did a lot more crashing into us," he quipped, gesturing to the destruction that clearly marked the mutant's path both into and out of the city.
Hicks rolled his eyes. Iffy metaphors were the least of their worries right now. He clamped his phone shut, only for it to immediately ring again. The Major scowled. "If that son of bitch is calling me back…" he muttered, checking the caller ID. The name on the screen abruptly silenced him. "Oh hell..."
---New York---
"You're in Japan?" Nick gawked. "You're actually in Japan right now?"
"Yeah," replied the voice on the other side of the line. "Amazing, huh?"
"I can't believe you Tony," he hissed. "Eight years. Eight goddamn years working together and this is how you repay me."
"If I recall correctly," Hicks said, "those first two years weren't exactly what I'd call 'working together.'"
Nick grit his teeth. "So that's your excuse?"
"My excuse for what?"
"You know what!"
"No, I don't know what."
"Bullshit."
"Look, I went on a mission to Japan while you were in New York. Last time I checked that wasn't a crime. We don't have to be joined at the hip here, you know-" Hicks voice suddenly stopped and Nick could make out someone asking a question in the background. "No this is not my wife." A beat. "It's worse."
Rolling his eyes, Nick said, "If I were your wife, I'm pretty sure a judge would find this grounds for divorce."
"I didn't lie to you."
"I don't care if you didn't lie! You deliberately kept me out of the loop!"
"Deliberately? There was a bit of a crisis going on here. I had bigger things to worry about."
"Like how you were going to keep Godzilla's return from me?"
"I wasn't keeping it from you."
"Then how come I didn't know about it until now?"
"Slipped my mind."
Nick snorted. "That's weak, even for you."
"Believe what you want, Nick."
"I sure as hell will. Why'd the higher-ups send you to Osaka?" He didn't wait for Hicks to respond. "Because of your past experience with Godzilla. Now if they viewed that as a reason to specifically send you in, why is it that someone with even more knowledge of Godzilla gets shut out?"
"You've got more than knowledge," came Hicks' reply. "You've got an emotional attachment."
"Which is exactly the reason I should have been there!" Nick cried. "The attachment goes both ways."
"We don't know if that's true anymore."
"Well of course you don't. You didn't even give it a chance."
"Have you seen the mess Osaka is in right now? Godzilla was on the rampage. We didn't want to leave much up to chance."
"Five minutes, Major. That's all I would've needed."
"Right. Five minutes for him to stomp you flat."
"He would not."
"Sorry Worm Guy, but I think he would. Something's different about him."
"Then let me see him. Let me figure out what's going on."
"Can't do that until after we get this mess cleaned up."
Hicks' statement worried Nick. "You mean after you blow him apart?"
"We won't do that unless absolutely necessary."
"Our definitions of what's absolutely necessary seem to vary a bit," Nick retorted, recalling the recent New York 'attack.'
"Look Nick, I know how much this means to you. Believe me, I wasn't thrilled at having to keep you from becoming involved."
"Then why are you?"
"It's simple: you're a liability."
Nick scowled. "That's a load of crap."
"Not entirely. You're not an impartial observer here. Your judgment's clouded, to say the least."
"So what, we keep people off missions based on possible vested interests?" Nick asked. "I don't see you shunning agents from New York whenever the latest monster to crawl out of the woodwork decides to take a walk in Central Park."
There was an audible sigh on the other end. "Just think about it. What would you have done if you saw Godzilla rise up out of the water, right in front of your own eyes?"
Nick paused. He didn't know.
"My point exactly," Hicks stated, correctly interpreting Nick's silence. "There's too much at stake here for you."
"That's exactly why I should be there," Nick replied.
"As much as you've got riding on this, the citizens of Japan, hell, the rest of the world, have more." A pause. "I don't know if you're pushed it out of your memory, but I remember what a mess you were the first time Godzilla disappeared. Do yourself a favor and don't put yourself through that again."
Closing his eyes, Nick let out a long breath. "So I'm out?"
"Sorry Worm Guy," Hicks sighed, "but you were never in."
-----------
Monique leaned back against the tiled wall, arms crossed, impatiently drumming her fingers against her abdomen. Just moments after receiving an unidentified call from Japan, Nick had ushered both her and the orderly into the hallway. The assassin had almost seen it as the perfect chance to escape; that is, if the hall hadn't been filled with people. She had no doubt she could dispose of each and every one of them if necessary, but the last thing she wanted to do was draw even more attention to herself.
So it was by that line of reasoning that she found herself waiting for twenty minutes in a busy corridor, dressed in a hospital gown no less. She hadn't seen her clothes anywhere as Nick pushed her out of the room. The orderly had quickly left, apparently having better things to do. At least he had made himself useful by offering to first come back with her clothes, though she hadn't seen any sign of him yet.
She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes in frustration. And here she thought Americans valued efficiency.
A loud slam caught her attention. She turned just in time to see Nick standing outside of the door, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His gaze caught her's. "I need to take care of something. Stay here."
Put off by the commanding tone of his voice, Monique crossed her arms. "And if I do not?" she replied coolly.
Throwing up his hands, Nick relented. "Then I can't stop you. I've got bigger things to worry about right now. But I think you should give some thought to what we talked about earlier."
"Meaning...?"
"You know what I mean," he said, casting her a critical look before setting off down the hallway, nearly colliding with an intern.
Monique watched him depart with a kind of passive interest. There was definitely something strange going on with her former boss. But whatever it was, he could figure it out on his own. As close as he had come to convincing her to stay, nothing he'd say could keep her here now.
A slight tap on her shoulder suddenly took her by surprise. Monique turned to see a pile of neatly folded clothing resting on an outstretched hand. Containing a sigh of relief, she gratefully accepted the apparel. "Merci beaucoup Monsieur..." she trailed off, silenced by the realization that it was not the orderly she had sent for her clothes.
The stranger pushed thick wire frame glasses down his nose to make direct eye contact. "La Minuit."
Monique's heart rate quickened. She rapidly scanned every inch of his body, looking for any possible sign as to whether he was friend or foe.
The man, however, brought her raging internal doubts to a halt when he handed her a manila folder, all too familiar in its inconspicuousness. Taking it, she slowly raised her gaze back to his, letting the noisy din of the busy medical center fade away as her entire existence re-centered itself on the words that came out of his lips.
"There's been a change of plans."
-----------
"Alright Dr. Craven, I'll give you one more chance to do this the easy way. What were you and Nick doing in Cameron Winter's office?"
Mendel had to admit he was impressed by the number of ways Rich had been able to rephrase that very simple question. There were no timepieces anywhere on the dreary gray walls of the interrogation room, but he was pretty sure a few hours had passed. Or at least it seemed like a few hours had passed. Time had a way of slowing down when you were being grilled by a latent sociopath.
Ok, maybe sociopath was too strong a word. But the veiled threat of Tighe, the hulk-like figure lurking in the corner, was completely uncalled for, and in Mendel's opinion, a bit sadistic. He knew his rights. The M-Force didn't have the authority to lay a finger on him. He had been an invited guest to Solstice headquarters. A reluctant invited guest at that. He hadn't even wanted to go!
Damn Jonah. He knew from the moment he caved that this would all end badly.
"Dr. Craven?"
"I told you I was waiting to meet with Cameron Winter, outside his office. I don't know where Nick went. He said the bathroom, and I believed him. If you guys think otherwise, well then ask him yourself."
Rich leaned over the steel table separating him and the robotist. "You didn't notice anything suspicious about his behavior?"
"No."
"He didn't seem at all upset about meeting with Winter?"
"Well a little, yes, but I would hardly call that 'suspicious.'"
"Really?" Rich asked, intrigued by this admission.
Mendel sighed. "Look, I'll admit, there's bad blood between them. I worked with Nick for two years; I saw it myself. But Nick's not the type to use underhanded tactics to get what he wants. A little sneaking around when the government was running interference during a mission, sure, but all things considered, never anything that bad."
Frowning, Rich leaned back in his chair. "You don't think he was snooping in Winter's office? Looking for dirty laundry he could use against him?"
"When Nick has a real problem with someone he goes the confrontation route. Just trust me on that."
Rich stared at Mendel, apparently mulling over the new information. Growing increasingly uncomfortable under the close scrutiny, Mendel fidgeted slightly, hoping Rich wouldn't take that as a sign that he wasn't being completely forthcoming.
Which he admittedly wasn't. Because...he...
Was protecting Nick.
Why was he protecting Nick again?
For old times' sake, he supposed. Or maybe a part of him was still loyal to his former boss, even if he had left the team years ago. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to turn back now. That'd be as good as admitting he had lied before. And if he did that, then Rich definitely wouldn't believe him when he (truthfully) said he didn't know exactly what Nick had been up to.
A buzz sounded over the intercom. "Um, Agent Reynolds?"
Rich walked over to the small device embedded in the wall. "Yes?"
"There's someone here to – HEY!"
Both men raised their brows at the sudden commotion on the other end. Mendel's, however, shot up even further when a very familiar voice replaced the previous light, feminine one. "Rich? What the hell are you doing?"
The agent in question bit his lip. "Dr. Tatopoulos, what a pleasant surprise." He paused. "How did you find us?"
"I'm not the one who's going to be answering questions here. What in God's name gave you the idea that you could kidnap and harass a civilian like this?"
"With all due respect he's not quite a civilian..."
"You're right. He's with me. So I'll be taking him back now."
Mendel let out a relieved breath. Whether or not he understood just why he did it, he was starting to be glad he had been so firm about vouching for Nick.
"I'm afraid I can't allow that," Rich evenly replied.
"Why not? He's answered all of your questions by now, hasn't he?"
"Well yes but..."
"But you haven't gotten the answers you wanted. Sorry to break it to you, but that's not a reason to hold someone like this."
"I don't believe you're in a position to be telling me how to go about M-Force business."
Mendel blinked. While at Solstice, Rich certainly seemed to defer the position of authority to Nick. That definitely didn't jive with the amount of lip he was giving him now.
"Well then I guess we can let a civil liberties attorney decide, hm? You know the Force is already on thin ice with Uncle Sam. You don't want to be the reason it falls through, do you?"
Mendel looked at Rich hopefully. Avoiding the blond's gaze, Rich instead glanced at Tighe, who shrugged. He hoped they realized there was no way they'd get him to turn on Nick now. Keeping him here any longer would be a waste of time.
"We'll need some contact information in case we have any further questions," Rich finally relented. He unlocked the door and gestured towards it. "But for now, you're free to go."
"Finally," Nick said, barging in before Mendel even had a chance to get up. He looked pointedly at his former teammate. "Come on. We've got something we need to take care of."
"Well ok, but-whoa!" Mendel's train of thought was cut off by Nick grabbing his arm and forcibly dragging him out. "What's going on?"
"You tell me," Nick asked when they were safely out of earshot. "What were you in there for?"
"They're suspicious about what you were up to at Solstice." Mendel was so sick of evading people's questions at this point that he figured he might as well be straightforward.
Nick groaned. "What did you tell them?"
"That you went to the bathroom."
Nick stopped abruptly and regarded Mendel with a look of disbelief. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"You covered for me?" the brunette continued. "Even after...?"
Mendel nodded. A couple minutes ago he could hardly believe it himself.
A short silence ensued, before Nick spoke up. "Thanks." After getting a half-hearted shrug in response, Nick pressed further. "I really mean it, Mendel."
A small, sheepish smile spread over the blond's lips. "I know."
It wasn't quite reconciliation. But it was something. A moment of sorts.
That is, until that moment was broken by the sound of Nick's cell phone.
"Sorry," Nick mumbled as he fished in his pocket for the offending object. He gave Mendel a lopsided grin. "But seeing as you're stuck with me for the foreseeable future, you'll have to get used to this." Flipping open the phone, Nick held it to his ear. "Hello?"
The tone of his voice suddenly became tinged with surprise. "Monique?"
The caller's identity was a bit of a shock to Mendel too. He had thought the Frenchwoman would ditch them as soon as she regained consciousness.
"How did you get this number?" Nick asked. "...no I didn't mean...well no, I guess I shouldn't be surprised, it's just...you what?" Nick looked taken aback. "You will? Why?" Another pause. "I don't think I'm being too nosy-" he said before being cut off by the voice on the other end of the line. "No you're right, this is what I wanted, but...ok ok, fine, I'll stop. Where are you right now?" He glanced at his watch. "Ok, meet us at hangar two in fifteen minutes. I trust I don't need to give you directions...didn't think so. Alright, I'll see you there."
Mendel waited for Nick to hang up before launching into the series of questions the partial conservation brought up. "She'll meet us? In a hangar? Are we going somewhere?"
"Yes we are going somewhere," the younger man said absently, choosing to only address the last question, since he figured the answers to the first two should be self-evident. He broke into a light jog, gesturing for Mendel to follow. "The hangar's a good distance from here. We'll have to hurry to meet her in time." In retrospect, Nick wished he had given them a bit more time to cover the necessary ground, but a voice in the back of his mind told him he needed to give Monique as small a window as possible to change her mind.
"You really need me to come along?" Mendel asked, huffing slightly but matching his companion's pace.
Nick was silent for a moment before glancing over at Mendel.
"Let's just say we're going to visit an old friend."
---End Chapter Four---
Updated Author's Note (12-16-05):
Yes I realize that was insanely late. I kinda lost direction for this fic. I owe you a fair warning that as of now I can't see myself writing more anytime soon. I will try my best though. We'll see.