Chapter 11

"De Freak," Bobby snarled, but any thoughts he might have had of getting his hands around the Swiss Miss Mother's throat ended as soon as the armed figures appeared, quickly surrounding them.

Arnaud held something in his hand, and suddenly Darien let out a sharp agonized cry and fell to his knees, loosing his hold on the gun as his hands clutched frantically at his head.

Satisfied that their troublesome I-Man had been sufficiently incapacitated, Arnaud waited until Ella had retrieved her gun and then casually tossed her the Trigger Device. In two long strides she moved across to Darien and grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking his head back roughly so that he had no choice but to look up into her furious gaze.

"Don't you ever say 'no' to me again, do you understand?" Not bothering to wait for a response she activated the Trigger Device again, watching with a satisfied sneer as Darien let out another painful whimper, before his entire body went rigid and his eyeballs rolled back. When Ella finally released her grip, he slumped forward with his head touching the ground, his body trembling violently.

Only the semi-automatic jammed into his rib cage prevented and outraged Bobby from launching himself bodily at Ella Craven, that and Claire's fingers digging into his arm.

Then Darien shuddered and suddenly went very still and they both assumed he'd passed out, until a hard nudge from the tip of Ella's boot into the small of his back and a hissed "Get up!" had him struggling up on hands and knees and then climbing slowly upright, where he swayed unsteadily in front of her.

Arnaud moved to his cousin's side.

"Well, my dear, this seems like an opportune moment to show our Agency friends exactly what we've created. You know the trigger word," he urged smoothly.

Giving him a quick nod, Ella caught Darien's hand and forced his fingers around the gun, then leaning in towards him she almost breathlessly purred out the phrase that had so recently been drilled into his subconscious. "Mamma Mia."

"It's a little 'Abba in joke' between me and Fawkes," Arnaud advised amiably for Bobby and Claire's benefit. His eyes sparkling with amusement "You really needed to have been there to truly appreciate it," he added, before turning his rapt attention back to Darien, fascinated and eager to study the ultimate effects of the EPC and of his hard work over the last few weeks..

Darien reacted almost immediately to his 'trigger words', with his body straightening to its full height and the pained expression from a few moments before slipping from his face, to be replaced by an almost enigmatic mask. His gaze fixed expectantly on Ella, his center of the universe at this precise moment in time; for no-one else existed or mattered. .

"Fight it, Fawkesy," Bobby called out, though any hopes he might have harbored faded as his friend turned his head in their direction and he caught sight of those dark and fathomless eyes. "You can do it, buddy," he tried again, though a touch of apprehension had crept into his voice. Claire drew in a sharp shocked intake of breath.

"Fascinating isn't it, Claire?" Arnaud almost sighed to the one person he was certain would really appreciate his sheer brilliance. "With a little tweaking and manipulation of Fawkes' superego, I've managed to replicate all of the innumerable benefits of Quicksilver Madness - which has ultimately given me complete control of his higher cortical functions - including his actions, his inhibitions and that annoying conscience of his. Only this time there's no need of a messy counteragent to bring him under passive control. All it takes is a quick press of a button. Clever, hmm?"

Although she was enthralled on a professional level by Arnaud's relentless dialogue, Claire was finding it difficult to concentrate or draw her attention away from Darien, who was now studying her and Hobbes with an eerie detachment. Center stage and with a captive audience, Arnaud was oblivious to the fact that he didn't have her full attention as he continued to boast.

"Of course, we had to replace the original Control Device, as the nano-bug I created originally was just a prototype, meant to be used as a stop-gap until a more effective version could be implanted - like the one he has now."

This secured Claire's undivided attention and an angry flush colored her cheeks.

"You created the nano-nasty?" The question came Bobby.

Arnaud gave a derisive snort. "You didn't for one moment think that those morons at the DoD could possibly have devised something so ingenious in the time allotted, did you?" he asked, shaking his head in scornful amusement. "I gave dear Wesley the designs for the original prototype and then it was just up to him and his team of half-witted researchers to assemble and implant it. And it would all have turned out so well, if you and Fawkes hadn't derailed Ella's plan so effectively."

Ella's eyes narrowed as she glared at Bobby and Claire, and it was obvious that as far as she was concerned they were the only ones to blame for those events.

"My dear," Arnaud said smoothly, picking up on her mounting restlessness, "maybe it's time for a little show and tell for our Agency friends."

"I've been waiting a long time for this," came her throaty response as she turned her attention back to Darien, trailing a long fingernail down his cheek. "Darien darling, I think it's time to kill Agent Hobbes."

A feral grin spread across his face and he caressed the barrel of the gun almost lovingly.. "My pleasure, baby," Darien acknowledged in a voice that wasn't quite his own. "Hold still Robbie, cause this one's going right between your beady little eyes." Then he raised the gun in one easy motion, pointed it straight at Hobbes…and fired.


In the moments that followed, Claire was acutely aware of Bobby's grunt of pain as he went down under the force of the bullet's impact and of her own anguished cry as she rushed to help him. But because her senses failed her on every other level, she was oblivious to Ella ordering Darien to turn the gun on his Keeper, or of him adjusting his aim without the slightest hesitation.

"Stop!" No-one present looked more surprised or shocked than Ella as Arnaud physically placed himself between Darien and Claire, his next intended target. With just the subtlest of gestures from him, Darien obediently lowered the weapon to his side and stood passively.

Ella was confused and not a little pissed off. "Let me finish it here," she pleaded with Arnaud almost in desperation. "The Agency are nothing but trouble, particularly these two."

"Normally, ma cherie, I would heartily concur," he responded, taking a quick glance to where Claire knelt at Bobby's side, attempting to staunch the flow of blood oozing from his wounded left arm.. "But I detest needless waste, and Dr. Keeply's arrival couldn't have been better timed. With Wesley's sad demise and with the imminent auction of my Quicksilver Glands, her expertise could be invaluable in helping me to correct the…uh… small imperfections.

"And having them as our guests, albeit temporarily, means that Fawkes now has an extra incentive to behave until he has completed Theo's little task, and we have the time necessary to properly conclude Phase 3 of his conditioning." Arnaud reached over to roughly pat Darien's cheek. "Isn't that right?"


"He shot me!" Bobby rasped out with a tremor in his voice, the shock and disbelief at his best friend's betrayal almost worse for him to bear than the pulsating agony in his shoulder. And he'd been repeating the same words almost as a mantra since they'd been deposited in one of the decrepit dungeons a few hours before.

There was no light, no heat and a pungent slightly offensive aroma that attacked the sinuses. All in all it was hellish. With no furnishing either, they were forced to huddle together on the dirty straw covered floor, with Bobby resting back against the jagged stone wall for support, while Claire tended to his wounded shoulder; removing his jacket and tearing away the sleeve of his black turtle-neck sweater to get a better look. The bullet had passed straight through without damaging anything vital as far as she could determine, but what concerned her the most was that fibers from his clothing had probably been driven into the wound on impact and would most certainly cause infection without proper treatment or at least an antibiotic.

Bobby flinched as she covered the wound with the folded piece of cloth - torn from his jacket - that she'd been forced to use as a makeshift bandage. It was already badly swollen and hot to the touch.

Once again she mentally cursed Arnaud and Ella Craven. Would it really have hurt them to leave her with even basic medical supplies or a blanket so that she could at least make him a little more comfortable? Bloody scumbags.

She shivered, but not entirely from the dank coldness of their environment, as she recalled Ella Craven's sneering comment when she had dumped them both down here.

The woman had stood in the doorway, staring at them both with undisguised loathing.

"Why bother trying to treat him," she'd said, indicating to a dazed Bobby. "If he's still alive when we get back, I'm going to order Darien to tear him into little bite size pieces."

Then she'd waved her gun for emphasis as she continued her taunt. "Might be kinder if you let me put him out of his misery now, what do you say, Keepie?"

Claire's furious response was a display of colorful language that even had Bobby chuckling despite the discomfort this caused, and Ella spinning on her heels and slamming the thick wooden door behind her with a shattering thud.

Now they sat huddled together, the only sounds a rather ominous rustling noise in the straw every so often and the constant drip, drip of water from somewhere close by. Bobby eventually brought Claire out of her daydream.

"He shot me," he whined yet again, and Claire snuggled in close trying to give him some comfort and warm his body with her own.

"I know, sweetheart," she soothed, touching a hand to his cheek. "But it could have been much worse."

Bobby could hardly believe what he was hearing and shifted so that he could stare at Claire incredulously through the gloom. "What could possibly be worse than De Freak, Cru-Ella and our very own invisible version of Mister Hyde on the loose," he almost yelped out. "Cause what we have here is a freakin' nightmare. And while we're rotting down here in the house of horrors, the three of them have gone who knows where - probably to terrorize the peasants or something."

"Don't you see, Bobby,." she urged, keen to get her message through his slightly feverish ramblings. "You told Darien to fight it and he must have heard you."

Bobby didn't look all that convinced. "He said I had beady little eyes and then he…"

"Shot you, yes I know," she cut in patiently. "But only in the arm, even though Ella Craven ordered him to kill you."

TBC