Chapter 7
Getting out of the Harding Building had been a cinch, as usual.
Bobby was nowhere in sight and the security team just never seemed to learn their lesson
where Darien was concerned. Assuming - wrongly - that he was cocooned safely down in The Keep for the rest of the day, they hadn't even bothered to post a guard outside the door. So all he needed to do to sneak out unnoticed was to go see-through and ride the elevator all the way to the top floor, exiting onto the roof via a fire door. From there he easily scaled a wall that led directly to the roof of the slightly taller neighboring building, then used that fire escape all the way back down to ground level.
He risked driving his own car out to Pacific Beach this time, with the full intention of spending just an hour or two with Frankie and then heading back before Hobbes and The Fish - or anyone else for that matter- had time to seriously freak. But Darien's resolve slipped away the moment Frankie opened the door of the motel room as he approached and he caught sight of her.
The news that she'd contacted Dominic and arranged a meeting for the next day didn't come as a surprise to him - he'd suspected as much from the anxious tone in her voice when she'd called earlier. But with a little more time he had hoped to convince Frankie not to take this potentially lethal route at all and to hand herself and the disk over to the Feds. At the very least he'd wanted to be at her side when she put in the call to her scumbag of a brother, but the waiting and uncertainty had finally taking their toll, prompting her actions
Now as Darien came awake in the early hours of the morning he felt Frankie stir restlessly beside him yet again, until his arm looped around her and she snuggled in against his body. For awhile he thought she'd fallen back to sleep, and was just heading back there himself when she jabbed him sharply in the ribs with an elbow..
"You awake?"
"Am now…ouch," he responded in a voice still husky from sleep.
Frankie raised herself slightly so that she could stare down at him, with eyes full of eager anticipation. "I want you to come with me."
"Go where, baby? It's the middle of the night." Idly rubbing an eye with the back of his hand.
"Once I've given Dominic the disk, I'm leaving - for good - and I want you to come with me Darien."
Using an elbow he pushed himself up out of the pillows so that he could see her a little better in the dim light. "Are you serious?"
"Never been more serious about anything in my entire life," she stated. "I don't think I could go without you." The heavy silence that followed was almost too much for Frankie to bear, and his response came just when she was beginning to think he might not answer at all, his tone tinged with regret.
"You know I can't ."
At those words she abruptly pulled away from him, reaching to switch on the bedside lamp, the hurt evident from her expression.
"At least explain to me why you can't?"
He sighed heavily. "The…people…I work for, well, they just wouldn't let me walk away. They've got too much invested."
"Then we'll run." Frankie urged, with hands clamped either side of Darien's face now, making sure he stayed focused entirely on her and what she was offering. "Baby, we can go somewhere they'll never find us."
Darien couldn't help the short burst of cynical laughter, but the hurt it obviously caused was certainly not intended. Then Frankie was up fast, grabbing for her discarded clothing and was almost out the door before he managed to scramble across the bed and catch hold of her. She put up a half-hearted struggle before collapsing against him, and he could feel her tears hot against his bare chest. He held onto her, stroking her hair until the tremors subsided and then put a hand beneath her chin, gently tipping it so that he could stare down at the tear-stained face.
"I said I couldn't leave with you. But that doesn't mean I don't wanna be with you, 'kay?" She sniffed and nodded as he tried to explain. "I've found out the hard way recently that it's safer for me right here, Frankie. My employers…and my friends… well, especially my friends, they look out for me, though Lord knows I don't always make it easy for 'em." He smiled wryly, and wondered if Bobby Hobbes was out scouring the streets for him right this minute. He wouldn't put it past the little tiger. "They could protect you too if you'd trust them." There was no harm in giving the legal route one last shot, anything had to be better than trusting Dominic. "And then maybe we could even figure a way to …ya know…stay together, if that's what you really wanted."
Frankie sniffed again and wiped the back of a hand across her nose, asking in a small voice. "Is that what you want?"
"I asked first," he teased.
"Asked what…exactly?" Her hand reached up to his face and Darien leaned into her touch..
"Not sure," he responded truthfully. "But if you're around we'd at least have the chance to find out."
"But what about the mess I'm in?"
He though about this for a moment. "Come back to bed. Then in the morning it's your call - If you decide to keep the appointment with Dom, then I'll be there too. If not, then I'll work some sorta deal with my boss." Darien sincerely hoped he had enough leverage to do what he was promising, and that once the Fat Man was finished tearing him limb from limb for going AWOL - again - he could be convinced to intervene in return for the information on the disk. Particularly when he realized he could potentially trade it back to the FBI…for a high price.
Darien pressed his lips against her forehead. "We'll work it out…somehow…trust me."
It was late morning before the couple finally emerged from their room, walking hand in hand across the lot to Darien's car. Despite feeling like crap again, Darien couldn't suppress the grin in Frankie's direction as he recalled exactly what they'd been up to into the wee small hours… and it had very little to do with sleep.
He just had the key poised in the lock when a familiar voice from behind literally froze him in place.
"So this is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into, hotshot."
With a muttered curse he turned to slowly face Bobby Hobbes, who was standing, arms folded just a few feet away from them.
"Nice to see ya again, Frankie," Bobby called across pleasantly.
"Likewise." Frankie threw back, sharing an anxious look with Darien.
"I'm impressed, Bobby.." Darien tried a tight smile to mask his nervousness. "How'd you find us?"
"That's need to know, my friend."
"Oh, gimme a break, man." he erupted, then stared down at himself as a sudden horrible thought struck, "They've got me tagged!"
Bobby was shaking his head. "Not as far as I'm aware they don't. Tracking devise is in the hunk of junk," he gestured at the car.
At least that's what Eberts told him when he'd questioned the relative ease with which they'd located Darien. This time his location had been pinpointed within an hour or so of him going on the missing list, but Bobby had managed to convince everyone to hang back and just keep the couple under surveillance; let them have what would probably be their last night together. Now though, the security team were cranky after so many hours spent just sitting and waiting.
Hobbes gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and Darien turned to see two of the Agency suits approaching from the dark SUV.
"Bobby please, just hear me out. I know what it looks like," Darien tried desperately.
"Plenty of time for explanations when we're back at HQ, junior." Bobby jerked his head towards Golda's open passenger side door. "Now are you gonna come with me, or do they have to bring you the hard way?"
Darien spent most of the journey back to the Harding Building in a brooding, sullen silence, fielding all of Hobbes' best efforts to engage him or Frankie in any form of conversation. What was the point! When his partner was pissed at him like this, any attempt to justify his actions would only result in another sanctimonious sermon from the older man on everyone's favorite topic - his safety. Besides, Darien had a feeling The Fish was going to give him a monumental roasting anyway, most likely with some form of punishment thrown in for good measure.
Alex Monroe was waiting for them as the van pulled into the Agency parking lot.
Darien was out of the van pulling Frankie with him before Hobbes had even shut off the engine, hoping to make a hasty break for the relative sanctuary of the Keep. But Monroe was there, holding out a hand to stop them dead in his tracks, eyeing the pair with a sort of cynical amusement.
"Well if it isn't Bonnie and Clyde."
"Out of the way Alex," Darien hissed.
"Oh no, not so fast. The Boss man wants you in his office pronto and your little girlfriend stashed somewhere safe for the time being. He's sent me to make sure you come along like a good little boy." She leaned in close to whisper the next words. "So don't even think of going see-through or I might have to kick your skinny butt."
Darien scowled.
"What's going on Monroe?" Hobbes locked the van and came round the side to join them.
"We've got visitors," she advised coolly. "The FBI are with the Chief, waiting to talk to Pretty Boy Fawkes and his gangster girlfriend."
Darien groaned, wiping a hand across his eyes. His plan to negotiate some sort of deal for Frankie and the disk - without the involvement of the FBI - had probably just gone up in smoke.
"Well thanks for nothing, buddy." Darien shot across at his partner as he grudgingly followed on Monroe's elegant heels, Frankie a few steps behind with the two suits trailing after them.
Masking the hurt he felt at that stinging comment, Hobbes sniped at his partner's retreating form. "Hey don't blame me, Gland for brains. This mess is all yours."
Frankie was separated from Darien literally the minute they stepped into the building, with him being hauled off by Hobbes and the scary woman with the abrasive manner, while she was escorted down to the basement level by the two suits to…The Keep…she'd heard it called. Now while she nervously waited, she gazed around at what was obviously some sort of laboratory and its vast array of medical equipment, computers, a menagerie of creatures in glass tanks lining the walls and a battered dentists chair dominating the large cavernous space.
It was glaringly obvious to her now that this was a government building and these people federal agents, and she found herself wondering exactly what sort of devil's pact had brought Darien to a place like this That thought was still troubling her as the metal door to the lab slid open and a woman with long blond hair entered. She was smiling in a vaguely reassuring way, and Frankie recognized her straight away as Monroe's singing partner from the bar a few night's earlier.
"Hello Frankie, I'm Claire Keeply, Darien's doctor."
She took the outstretched hand and returned the smile with a strained little one of her own.
"So you really are his doctor."
"Yes, I am." Claire's smile broadened. "Why don't we make ourselves a bit more comfortable." She gestured towards the desk and a couple of chairs. "You might be in for a bit of a wait."
Once Frankie was seated, Claire walked across to the large glass fronted refrigerator, rummaged around inside for a minute before emerging with a satisfied grin and two small bottles of water. She handed one of the bottles to Frankie and then sat herself down opposite. Frankie nodded her thanks before taking a long swallow from the bottle.
"Exactly how much has Darien told you?" Claire began carefully after a few minutes.
"Not much really," Frankie responded, wiping a hand delicately over her mouth. "Just that he had some surgery which kept him out of prison. He said that if I knew too much it could be dangerous for me."
Claire breathed a tiny sigh of relief at Frankie's response. She knew for certain that Darien would never intentionally reveal details about the Project, but her orders from The Official had been specific; she was to find out exactly what information he'd disclosed to his former girlfriend - presumably so that the Fat Man could then make a decision on what level of punishment to mete out on this occasion.
"He's in a lot of trouble now because of me, isn't he?"
"Well, our boss does get pretty cross when he just …disappears… like that, but he'll get over it…eventually.." Claire cast a nervous glance upwards, as if she could see right on through the ceiling to The Official's office. "Darien's a very special man - though I expect you know that already, don't you?" Frankie answered Claire's question with a shy nod, and Claire smiled sweetly back at her.. "We're all very fond of him too, which is why we're a tad over-protective at times."
"Whatever they did to Darien has made him sick, hasn't it?" Frankie stared intently at the other woman, as if this would somehow give her an insight into what the hell was going on.
"No…uh…not really," Claire began. "All I'm at liberty to say is that he does need regular medical checks, but they're fairly routine…mostly." Despite her own words of assurance some inner alarm bell sounded. "Why do you ask?" she asked trying to keep the question as casual as possible.
Frankie shrugged. "I was just a little worried after…you know…after he blacked out on me like that - he said it was just food poisoning or something. But even though he won't admit it, I know he's still not feeling well…" her words trailed off as she saw the combination of shock, anger and concern wash over the doctor's face. "Oh crap. He didn't tell you did he?"
Claire was up and out of her chair, grabbing for the phone. "No he bloody well didn't, the stupid bloody fool." Pressing one of the quick dial buttons on the handset and speaking as soon as it was picked up at the other end. "Wesley…I need the results of all of Darien's recent blood work ASAP. It looks as if those anomalies we found might have been causing him a few problems after all." She listened intently for a few seconds before continuing. "You just gather as much of the data as you can and I'll try to grab Darien as soon as they've finished with him upstairs."
Claire ran a hand across her face as her mind mentally counted off the numerous tests she needed to run now. It might be nothing, of course. There was no reason why Darien couldn't just have suffered a case of food poisoning, after all she'd warned him often enough about the odious junk food he liked to consume on a fairly regular basis. But despite all attempts to allay her own concerns, she just couldn't shake off the feeling that this was going to be bad.
"No, I'm not gonna do it." Darien shifted his long frame and slouched down in the chair, folding his arms and staring straight ahead defiantly. Besides him Bobby drew in a sharp breath.
"Excuse me?" Special Agent Ralph Keating of the FBI asked incredulously. The man was all slicked back hair, sharp suit and patronizing manner and he and Darien had hated each other virtually on sight.
"You heard asshole."
"Fawkes!" The Official hissed a warning.
The second of the two FBI Agents, Dee Davies - a powerfully built black man probably somewhere in his late 30s - knew instinctively that they needed to let this one play out gently; strong arm tactics would be wasted here.
"My department has been investigating Dominic Casati for over three years now, but up until Agent Coleman's murder we'd never even got close to an arrest." Davies leaned forward in his seat, trying for some one-on-one eye contact with Darien. "We have Francesca's signed statement that she witnessed the murder, but unless she agrees to go on the witness stand and testify against her brother we have no case and the slippery bastard will get away with it. You'd be doing us a great service if you could use some gentle persuasion on her, Agent Fawkes."
"What part of 'I'm not freakin' doing it', don't you people get?" Darien spat acidly. Adding after a moment mostly for Borden and Hobbes' benefit "They've screwed her over once already, and I ain't gonna let it happen again."
Now, would probably have been a good time to reveal the existence of the disk and its contents but some nagging doubt kept Darien silent, even though the object in question was currently burning a hole in the pocket of his khakis.
Keating gave a derisive snort. It was obvious to him that Charles Borden had no control over this smart ass ex-thief. He gave Darien his best leering smile.
"And by all accounts we're not the only ones who've screwed the lovely Francesca. I hear she's quite a girl."
That was it! Darien was out of his chair and hauling Keating up by the collar of his expensive shirt before the man knew what was happening, shaking him violently until he was gasping for breath. But before he could even get in one satisfying blow Bobby grabbed him from behind.
"Fawkes, calm down. Calm down buddy." Forcibly dragging a still cursing Darien back and holding him there firmly.
While all this was going on the Fat Man had pressed a button under his desk and just seconds later the door to his office crashed open and Alex Monroe and the two suited agents rushed into the room, wrenching Darien from Bobby's grasp before either of them had time to react and holding him between them, his arms twisted painfully up behind his back.
"Chief, tell 'em to back off, it's okay. Fawkesy's okay now, ain't that right partner?"
Darien spat something in Keating's direction that sounded like "Fuckin' jerk off" whilestill trying to struggle free of the painful arm lock to get at least one satisfying smack in. Bobby rolled his eyes in frustration.
Borden ignored Bobby and spoke over his head to Monroe. "Take him downstairs to cool off." And then to Darien. "For now, consider yourself confined to base. You are not to leave this building unless you have my specific authorization to do so, do you understand?"
Darien didn't bother to respond, preferring instead to glare murderously at Keating; who now looked seriously freaked. A moment later Darien was hauled out between the two suits, with Bobby just about to follow on behind when Borden's voice stopped him dead.
"Bobby, STAY." And then turning to Agent Davies. "My assistant will prepare the necessary paperwork to transfer Miss Casati into your custody, and I believe we're due a reward for her arrest." He just couldn't suppress a satisfied shared smirk with Eberts at this point. "Then I want you to take her and this piece of work," jerking his thumb towards Keating, "and get the hell out of my Agency."
Keating adjusted his tie and tried to compose himself, ignoring a warning growl from his partner to point a trembling finger towards the door. "I want that agent put on report. He's obviously got psychological issues."
Borden let out a loud snort of laughter. "Hah, if you think he has 'issues' now Agent Keating, just be glad you didn't try that crap on him a few months ago."
Bobby nodded in agreement, knowing the chief was talking about the ole Red Eye - Quicksilver Madness - which thankfully his partner had been free of for several months now.
Keating made to move towards the door, but stopped when he realized that Davies wasn't following him, The older man was clearing his throat to speak again..
"Uh, Mr. Borden, sir, there may be another problem,"
The Fat Man raised an eyebrow.
"There's every chance that Dominic Casati knows of Agent Fawkes' involvement with his sister. You'd be wise to keep him out of sight for the time being for his own safety. I wouldn't put it past Casati to try to use him to get to Francesca."
Borden visibly stiffened. "Agent Davies, perhaps you'd care to explain to me how that happened? How the safety of my agent could have been compromised in such a short space of time." His tone was laced with barely concealed rage. At least Davies had the decency to look sheepish.
"We've got a leak in the department. Someone's been tipping off Casati the whole time. That's how he found out so quickly when his sister approached us about Coleman's murder."
"No wonder the kid ran." Hobbes spat contemptuously. "You had a duty to protect her as a key witness, instead you practically threw her to the freakin' wolves."
"Yes, well, " Borden cut in dismissively, "we're perfectly capable of protecting our own. And Agent Fawkes won't be going anywhere for the foreseeable future."
Davies nodded. "That's never been in question, sir. But Dominic Casati is a ruthless sonofabitch. I've seen what that man is capable of, and if he gets his hands on Agent Fawkes the only way you're likely to get him back is in a body bag."
Darien sat on the edge of the cot in the cell with his head buried in his hands. The door was open but the two suits hovering just outside and Monroe's veiled threat before she'd left, made it clear that he had no choice but to stay put - for the moment anyway.
He didn't even bother to look up when Hobbes entered, waiting until the other man had settled in the chair opposite before asking the question that Hobbes knew was inevitable.
"What's gonna happen to Frankie?"
Just before coming down here to sit with his friend, Bobby had been on the receiving end of yet another tirade from The Official on how Fawkes needed to take more responsibility for his actions.. He sighed, suddenly feeling world weary. It had been a very long couple of days.
"We're handing her over to the Fibbies. What the hell did you think was gonna happen, you numbskull?" His tone was a lot harsher than he intended, but he just couldn't help himself with everything that was at stake. "You're better off rid of her, trust me."
"Yeah, well maybe I don't wanna be rid of her," Darien responded in little more than a whisper, finally meeting Bobby's gaze. Despite wanting to maintain his tough stance, Bobby found his anger fade away as he stared at the despondent individual right in front of him.
"Darien. It's reality check time here," he offered sympathetically. "Believe me, it just ain't gonna happen. There's no 'happy ever after' at the end of this story." He waited for any sort of response from his partner, and when none was forthcoming decided to continue. "Her type is off limits to you now, buddy boy.."
"Her type," Darien echoed caustically. "And what do you know about her type, HobbesyWanna share here, man?"
Bobby considered his words carefully, knowing that he had a tendency to mouth off and say things he'd regret later on. But then…what the hell! "Okay, I know the mob and if you ask me she's nothing but trouble. You piss off one of their women and before you know it you're waking up in bed with bits of Seabiscuit."
Darien stared at his friend incredulously and then suddenly his mouth twitched and surprisingly he began to laugh, and a moment later Bobby started too. "Yeah, well don't say I didn't warn ya, junior," Hobbes managed to gasp out, which brought about another burst of uncontrollable giggles from both of them
The two suits watched all of this with open bewilderment until the laughter had died down, and Hobbes was on his feet and heading straight for the door.
"Where ya goin', Hobbesy?" Darien's voice was laced with concern now as he jumped up instinctively to follow his partner, groaning in frustration as the guards moved in quickly to block his exit, pushing him forcibly back into the cell.
Hobbes paused, keen to ensure that the mooks didn't try anything too heavy with the kid.
"You cool your heels down here for awhile and try to behave. I'm gonna go see if I can get you some private time with Al Capone's sister before they haul her off."
TBC