Friday, 2:30am
In The Official's office, Eberts is rapidly typing on his laptop, while He paces restlessly. They're both looking pretty rough around the edges, with their ties loosened and the top buttons of their shirts undone.
The phone rings, startling them both out of their respective reveries.
The Official strides briskly over to His desk and picks up the phone. "This is He," He answers gruffly. He listens as Hobbes discloses his 'sit-rep', nodding and emitting a "Hm," at various intervals.
Eberts cocks his head questioningly, and The Official mouths 'Hobbes' to him. The assistant nods, looking inquisitively anxious.
The Official waves for Eberts to go out the door. Understanding the unspoken request, he shoots out of his chair and heads to the lab to fetch Claire.
They enter the office a few moments later. She's rubbing the sleepies from her bleary eyes.
The Official waves Claire over to Him. He's sitting in His desk chair, occasionally scribbling notes in shorthand. She shoots Him a questioning look as she leans on the edge of His desk.
"Hold on, Bobby, I want Claire to hear this," He interrupts Hobbes, then pushes the phone's speaker button as He hangs up the handset.
"Hey Keepie," Hobbes greets Claire warmly. "How you holdin' up?"
"I'll feel better when Darien is back safe and sound," she replies wearily. "What's going on?"
"Well, like I was telling the boss, we've come across some pretty hinky stuff here," he starts, but then Monroe's voice murmurs something unintelligible in the background. "Oh, give it up Monroe, it's a perfectly valid word," he complains, and is about to continue, but The Official cuts him off.
"Never mind that. Keep going."
"Well," Hobbes continues a little huffily. "We found the chick Arnaud busted out of that lab in Virginia. Turns out the 'good Doctor' has shacked up with Chrysalis."
Eberts and Claire exchange disturbed looks, but The Official doesn't seem fazed.
"And Amy here was actually some sort of experiment from that lab in Virginia. She says it's known as The Shop," Hobbes continues.
"What?" barks The Official, palms pressed flat down on His desk as He half rises from His chair. He seems as upset and nervous at the mention of The Shop as He was when dealing with the Man With No Name during the initial incident with Dr. Gaither.
"Yeah, we got ourselves the start of one helluva list for a human experiments' support group here," Hobbes comments wryly.
Once again Monroe's voice is heard murmuring in the background.
"All right, all right," he replies in irritation. "So anyway, Amy says Fawkes showed up at her place this afternoon around three thirty. Unfortunately, the 'Doctor' was 'in', and he managed to knock Fawkes out. An hour later, Stark shows up with his goons to pick Fawkes up. Arnaud went with them, but Amy isn't sure where."
"So what's your next step?" The Official asks as He sinks back down in His chair.
"Dunno, boss," Hobbes replies heavily. "We thought to check at Chrysalis HQ, but they probably figured we'd check there, and would've gone somewhere else."
"Bobby, do you and Alex still have the vials I gave you earlier?" Claire asks worriedly.
"Yah. Don't worry Keep, we'll get 'im back... somehow," he replies with false confidence.
She doesn't look very comforted. "Bobby, by now Darien could very well have gone into Phase Three madness. At the least. There's no more time; we need to get him back... now."
He sighs in frustration, and Eberts' face suddenly brightens as he has a revelation. "Robert, did you happen to find Darien's phone there?"
There's a moment of silence before he replies, "No, we haven't seen it anywhere. Why?"
Eberts looks thoughtful, and eagerly explains, "There may be a chance that Darien still has his phone, and if it's still on..."
"So?" The Official grumbles distractedly.
"Yeah, Eberts. So?" Hobbes echoes The Official, albeit a bit more impatiently. "How can that help us find... Oh-ho!" he exclaims as he finally understands what the man was getting at.
Claire is looking hopefully at the assistant. "Do you think you could track Darien again, through the signal?"
He nods excitedly. "As long as the charge hasn't worn out on the battery."
The Official claps His hands down decisively on the desk. "Eberts, you and Claire track that signal. Hobbes, you and Monroe bring this woman in. I want her in protective custody until all this is sorted out."
"Got it, boss," Hobbes replies. "Just one problem."
"What," He snaps, unwilling to bear one more complication.
"A: She doesn't wanna come with us, and B: if we do get her in there, Claire's gonna have to take a look at her."
She glances questioningly at the phone, having already halfway crossed the room to Eberts' worktable. "Why? What's the matter?"
"It's a bit complicated to go into right now," he replies cryptically. "Just be sure you have a couple pints of O-positive blood ready... just in case."
Her brows furrow together in concern. "Bobby, you didn't..."
"No, no," he reassures. "She just has this problem with... nosebleeds."
She's not buying it. "A nosebleed wouldn't necessitate..."
"Just trust me on this," he interrupts quickly. "We'll explain when we get in. ETA's twenty minutes."
"Understood," The Official verifies. "And I don't care if she doesn't want to come. One way or another, you get her in here... capiche?"
"Yah, got it Chief. See you soon," Hobbes replies, then hangs up.
The Official cuts off the phone and looks up at Claire and Eberts. "Let's get moving, people," He orders wearily.
They nod, and she sits down next to him as they pull up his previous calculations on the laptop.
A few moments after he finishes speaking with The Official and the others, Hobbes re-enters MacKenna's living room from the kitchen area.
She's arguing with Monroe as he rejoins them, tucking the phone inside his jacket. "Look, I'm not going with you. There's absolutely no reason for me to..."
Monroe is standing a few feet away from the chair with her arms crossed. "No, there's every reason for you to come," she returns firmly. "When Stark finds out you've been talking with us, he's likely to kill you himself."
MacKenna shakes her head. "He told me to expect a visit from your precious little Agency," she retorts. "If anything, he'll send me somewhere else where I can finally have some peace and quiet."
"Yeah, it's called a graveyard," Hobbes comments dryly as he joins the 'discussion'.
MacKenna swings her head to glare at Hobbes. "Ha ha... very funny," she snaps.
"I'm not kidding," he returns calmly. "Stark has absolutely no tolerance with his people 'consorting with the enemy'. He shot the last woman who lived here himself when he found out she and Fawkes were... involved."
"What do you mean... 'involved'?"
"They'd been... dating?" Monroe clarifies, glancing at Hobbes uncertainly.
"Sort of," he answers.
"Aaaaahh," MacKenna breathes knowingly as she shakes her head a little. But her amusement fades as his second to last sentence sinks in. She looks sharply at both agents. "Waitaminute. Why would Mr. Stark do that?"
"Like I said, no tolerance," Hobbes comments with a small shrug. "There was this other guy from Chrysalis, too: didn't like some of the stuff they were doing to kids, and contacted us with the info. Stark found out about the leak, and plugged it."
"Permanently," Monroe adds.
MacKenna's expression becomes troubled.
"Not to mention Stark's own wife turned on him when he told her he'd rather see their kid die before letting us take him back to his real family," Hobbes adds, oblivious to the effect his words would have on Monroe. She turns her head away, hiding her reaction to the mention of her son.
"What was her name?" MacKenna asks thoughtfully.
"Stark's wife?" Hobbes prompts.
"No, the woman who lived here," she replies quietly.
Monroe dons her coat while he replies, "Alianora."
Her eyes widen slightly in recognition. "I've heard that name mentioned. Never around Mr. Stark, though. I guess now I know why," she murmurs, still looking troubled.
"So will you please come with us now?" Monroe asks, impatient and wanting to go.
MacKenna nods slowly, deep in thought.
Hobbes holds out a hand and helps her to stand. She sways, still weak from blood loss, and he steadies her. He nods to Monroe, who precedes them to the door.
"Wait," MacKenna stops at the door. "Shoes."
He stands close enough for her to lean on him if necessary. She pulls on a pair of tennis shoes and grabs another shirt from a chair beside the door.
Monroe holds open the door, and they exit the apartment. She closes the inner door, and the screen door silently swings shut behind her as she walks towards the van.
Friday, 3:00am
The door slides open to The Keeper's lab, and Monroe enters with MacKenna leaning heavily on her arm. She's changed into the clean shirt. Monroe leads her to the 'demented dentist's' chair and helps her onto it. She leans back and closes her eyes, looking extremely pale.
"Does he drive like that all the time?" she asks a little breathlessly.
Monroe walks over to the sink, picks up a clean glass and fills it with cold tap water. "I'm afraid so," she replies wryly. She turns, walks back to the chair and hands the glass to the other woman. She accepts it without opening her eyes and takes a few small sips before handing it back to Monroe with a murmured "Thanks."
The lab door slides open, and Hobbes, Claire, Eberts and The Official all enter.
MacKenna cracks open an eye, and wryly comments "Well. Hail, hail, the gang's all here."
Hobbes and Monroe shake their heads slightly, amused. Eberts' eyebrows twitch in inquiry. Claire and The Official, however, don't look like they have much of a sense of humor at the moment.
Claire strides over to MacKenna, and begins to check her vitals. She seems moderately concerned with how the woman looks.
"You look horrible," she exclaims as she picks up a blood pressure cuff and fastens it around MacKenna's uninjured arm. She inflates the cuff, and listens intently for a moment. Then, she re-inflates the cuff two more times, not believing what she's heard.
"Flatterer," MacKenna quips, exhausted. She leans her head back on the chair, once again closing her eyes. "I guess you could say I've traveled far, and suffered much," she murmurs as the cuff is inflated for the second time.
Monroe and Hobbes each raise an eyebrow, remembering that he'd facetiously uttered the same sentiment hours earlier.
Meanwhile, Eberts has positioned himself at the partial wall separating the lab from the exam room.
The Official stands at the foot of the chair, and regards MacKenna darkly. "How did she get like this?"
"Well, she has, this, thing, that makes her have nosebleeds," Hobbes starts.
"And seizures," Monroe adds.
The Official and Eberts simultaneously cock their heads to the side in puzzlement. "I don't follow," He grunts.
"It's not that difficult to understand, Mr. Borden," MacKenna speaks up, opening heavy eyelids to regard him with moderate amusement. She smiles wearily at his shocked expression. "One tends to pick up tidbits of information when doctors and guards don't know or care if one's listening," she explains. "Your name's popped up a few times in conversations... yours too, Agent Monroe," she nods at the 5-star agent, whose eyes widen in surprise. "... And over the years, I've learned to keep track of it all up here." She points to her head with her right hand, wincing at the twinge from her wound. "You both have, interesting, track records," she finishes, smiling knowingly.
The Official stands stiffly, blinking in astonishment. He gives Himself a small shake and warily regards her. He opens His mouth to utter something, but just then Claire pipes up.
Turning to the fridge, she calls over her shoulder, "Bobby, would you bring that IV stand over to the chair, please."
He complies, contemplating the ramifications of MacKenna's last comment.
She opens the bottom of the fridge to pull out a bag of blood.
In the corner, Eberts blanches when he sees it. He turns his head away to intently study the fish tank over in the other side of the room.
She comes back to the chair, and hangs the bag up on the stand. "Thank you Bobby," she says absently as she inserts the IV needle into MacKenna's arm.
He gets that small, infatuated smile reserved only for Claire.
MacKenna doesn't react at all to the puncturing of her arm, and bemusedly watches as the blood begins to flow into her vein.
"I could barely get a reading on your blood pressure," Claire mildly scolds. "How is it that you could've lost so much blood from just a nosebleed?"
The woman blinks, and brings her attention back to the here-and-now. Looking the doctor in the eyes, she replies, "They aren't nosebleeds, necessarily." She pauses, and explains further as Claire frowns in disbelief. "My brain tends to hemorrhage when I overuse my... gift." She rolls the last word around in her mouth as if it tasted like feces. "The doctors installed a shunt into my sinuses, which helps minimize pressure on my brain. The seizures are a side effect from excessive production of certain neurochemicals."
"Oh, that made sense," Hobbes mutters.
Claire's expression changes slightly, becoming more thoughtful.
"Have you read any Stephen King?" MacKenna continues to Claire.
She shakes her head. "I'm familiar with his work, but I don't take much time for that kind of recreational reading."
MacKenna smiles her understanding. "Do you know the basic story line in Firestarter?"
Eberts pipes up. "Ah, yes, I do. It's about a couple that volunteered for an experiment while they were in college. They had a child a few years later, who could start fires with her... mind." His face twists apologetically at the seeming farfetchedness of the notion.
"Eberts," The Official growls quellingly.
He ducks his head, but MacKenna states, "Can it, Charlie." Her gaze returns to Eberts as she continues. "Exactly. You remember that both of the girl's parents got their own 'abilities' from that experiment?"
He nods as he rapidly accesses old memories.
"Wasn't the mother telekinetic?" Monroe interjects.
MacKenna nods while Eberts continues. "And the father could make people, do things..." he trails off as he tries to remember the rest of it.
"I didn't know you liked that kind of stuff," Hobbes mutters in an aside to Monroe.
"There's a lot about me you still don't know, Bobby," she murmurs back suggestively.
He just grins.
Meanwhile, MacKenna is smiling tentatively at Eberts. "Yeah, that's it. He referred to it as 'pushing'. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" she directs her last comment to Hobbes and Monroe, who each respectively look thoughtful and slightly unnerved.
MacKenna gazes at Claire, who's trying to interpret the logistics behind the medical procedure(s) performed to achieve such an outcome.
"Believe me, this ain't something you figure out in a few minutes, Doctor. It took them nearly eight years of fiddling to get me working this well."
"'Fiddling'." The Official mutters.
"Yeah, as in surgery. And lots of it," she replies, repulsed with the memories.
"I wonder what exactly they did," Claire quietly thinks out loud as she prepares to place a thermometer in MacKenna's mouth.
The woman closes her eyes again as she sighs deeply. "It's still a pretty sore subject for me, so I'd rather not talk about it for a while. Like, maybe... never? ... But if you'd like, sometime I'll show you the scars from where they cut me open."
Claire frowns as she checks MacKenna's pulse, unsure of whether or not she's being facetious. She moves to place the thermometer in the woman's mouth, and MacKenna warns, "I run pretty hot, so don't be alarmed when you see my temp." Then she glances up at the others and talks around the thermometer in her mouth. "Anyway, aren't you guys supposed to be out looking for your other friend?"
"Ah! Yes!" Eberts exclaims, suddenly remembering something important. "I've... we've," Eberts corrects himself, nodding to Claire, "made some progress in tracking Darien's whereabouts."
The Official cuts him off. "Not here, Eberts. Doctor, stay here and keep an eye on our guest. People, follow me." He strides towards the door, and Eberts, Monroe and Hobbes follow; kind of like ducklings following Papa Drake to the pond.
"I'd be better able to care for you if I knew more about your history," Claire begins explaining to MacKenna as the lab door slides shut behind Hobbes. She's slightly turned away from the chair, checking for air bubbles in the bag of blood. When she turns to look at MacKenna, she realizes that the battered woman has passed out.
She removes the thermometer and glances at the reading. It's 102.6F. She frowns and places a gentle palm on the woman's forehead. Reluctantly at first, she smoothes away wisps of hair from the pale, hot face. A moment passes as Claire enigmatically regards the sleeping woman. Then she turns and covers MacKenna with a warm blanket before wearily returning to her computer on the other side of the lab.
A few minutes later, the Official's office door opens, and Monroe, Eberts and Hobbes start out into the hallway as they finish their discussion on how to find and rescue Darien.
"So you're sure this's right," Hobbes asks Eberts as the door opens.
"It's the same program I used to triangulate his location earlier, Robert," he replies a bit acerbically.
"Yeah, well, look how accurate that was," Hobbes mutters, just loud enough for the assistant to hear.
He opens his mouth to take offense, and Monroe intervenes. "Bobby, stop pestering Eberts. He's done remarkably, especially so late in the evening."
"Thank you," Eberts gleams, pleased that she's sticking up for him.
"We're all tired," The Official utters from His desk, "And taking your frustrations out on each other doesn't bring Fawkes home any sooner."
Hobbes reluctantly drops his eyes from Eberts', muttering "Sorry, Eberts."
"It's all right, Robert. I'm worried about him, too," he returns magnanimously as he pats the other man on the shoulder.
Hobbes glances coldly at the offending hand, of which Eberts quickly withdraws.
Monroe ignores Hobbes, and gently takes a sheet of paper from Eberts' hand.
"You've been a huge help, Albert. Thank you," she expresses warmly. "C'mon, Bobby, let's go." She turns to leave, but Hobbes stops her.
"Hold on a sec. I wanna check on Claire and Amy first."
"Hobbes..." Monroe protests, irritated at what she felt was an unnecessary delay. "Let the woman rest. Claire's got a handle on things in there."
He ignores her, and enters the lab.
Claire is sitting at her computer with her back to the door, her head resting on her arms. She's just fallen asleep.
MacKenna is still sleeping in the lab chair, with the blanket pulled up to her collarbone. The transfusion is almost finished, and it's made quite an improvement on her complexion. The color has begun to come back into her cheeks, and her sickly pallor has almost completely faded.
As Hobbes and Monroe quietly step into the lab, MacKenna's eyes snap open. The paranoid panic in them begins to fade as she remembers where she is. She opens her mouth to speak, but Hobbes puts a silencing finger to his mouth, indicating the slumbering doctor with a jerk of his head.
She glances at Claire, and then nods an acknowledgement. She raises her chin, wordlessly asking the two agents to come closer.
Once they're beside her, she softly asks, ";So, you know where he is?"
Hobbes nods. "Yeah, we're just leaving."
MacKenna nods, and begins to sit up and remove the blanket.
Monroe stops her with a hand on her arm. "What do you think you're doing?"
As she opens her mouth to answer, Monroe shakes her head in anticipation of what she thinks the other woman is going to say. "No way. You're in no shape to go with us."
Hobbes blinks, mildly surprised that MacKenna was interested in joining them. "Why?"
She flips the blanket completely off of her legs, and carefully swings them over the side of the chair. "I've been thinking ever since we left the apartment," she murmurs. "And I think I've figured out a few things."
"Like..." Monroe prompts.
"Like the fact that I've been asked to 'push' Arnaud," she motions with her hands as if she were holding someone's head between them, "a lot over the past few days."
"Why?" Hobbes wonders.
"Mr. Stark explained that Arnaud had become unstable since he went, you know, see-through, and that my... 'special talent' was exactly what they needed to keep him from completely going off the deep end," she replies.
"I'd say it's a little too late for that," he mutters sarcastically.
She grins. "Hmm. You might be right there. That man has more unfocused rage than I do."
"That would explain why you were so tapped out after we showed up," Monroe comments thoughtfully.
MacKenna nods. "Usually it's pretty easy imposing my will on others, but with Arnaud, I dunno... it's been... different." She frowns, rubbing her fingers as she remembers the shocks, then continues. "Mr. Stark thought that might have to do with our... modifications."
Hobbes nods, intrigued with what he's hearing.
"I'm just not ready to trust anyone... yet. Including you," she remarks thoughtfully. "Anyway, I figure it'd be easier for you to get Agent Fawkes back if you had me there to trade."
"I think we can handle this without putting you in any more danger," Monroe returns.
MacKenna shakes her head with an ironic smile. "I doubt that very much, Agent Monroe. If what you said about Mr. Stark is true, he'll terminate me the first chance he gets anyway. That's one too many special interests out for my head, so I'd rather just settle this now."
Hobbes and Monroe regard her thoughtfully for a moment.
"Give us a second," Hobbes tells her, taking Monroe aside for a private conference.
MacKenna nods, and turns her attention to carefully removing the IV needle from her arm.
"What do you think?" he asks Monroe.
She shakes her head, unsure if this was such a good idea. "For all we know, this whole thing could've been a setup from the start. I just don't have a good feeling about it."
Hobbes smiles in irony. "Gee, that sounds familiar."
She shoots him a 'Ha ha, you're sooo funny' glare, and continues as if she hadn't heard him. "Even if she was on the level with us, she'd still be a liability in a fight. I'd feel more comfortable if she stayed here."
Hobbes shakes his head. "I think she's legit. She's coming."
He turns and approaches MacKenna, who looks up at him questioningly.
In an exasperated tone, Monroe mutters, "Why did you bother to ask my opinion if you weren't even going to listen to it?" and remains where she is with arms folded and resisting the urge to strangle him.
Meanwhile, Hobbes is saying to the other woman, "You can come with us, but you have to stay out of sight, and do everything we tell you. Got it?"
She snorts in amusement. "Yes sir." She jauntily salutes him, smiling at her private joke before glancing at Monroe. "Don't worry, Agent Monroe. I've learned how to take care of myself. I won't hold you back."
"Whatever," Monroe murmurs dryly. "Let's get moving before they decide to move him somewhere else." She heads out through the lab door, followed by MacKenna and then Hobbes.
As the door slides shut, Claire's seen still fast asleep in her chair.