Chapter 13

Grudsk - Late afternoon

Theodore Tomaszko, as ever accompanied by one of his hulking bodyguards, stood in the center of the lavishly furnished hotel suite and waited, not altogether patiently, for one of the present occupants to acknowledge his presence.

Although inwardly bristling at the lack of respect being shown - particularly by Arnaud De Fehrn - a small logical part of him accepted that at the moment the man had other priorities and was doing exactly what he had ordered him to do: ensure the American invisible agent, Darien Fawkes, was primed and ready for that nights work.

The young man in question was currently sprawled across the couch, with his head resting on a cushion which in turn was resting on Ella Craven's lap. Darien's eyes were half opened and staring dazedly as Arnaud none-to-gently gripped his arm and jammed a syringe into a vein. His mouth curled into a satisfied smirk at Fawkes' jerked response to the sudden stinging pain. Good. That meant the little prick was regaining his faculties following their intense EPC session. Under normal circumstances, Fawkes would be allowed to sleep off the effects, but time wasn't something they had much of at this moment, which was why a strong stimulant had been necessary.

The sole purpose of this interim session had been to implant the identity and location of the target into Fawkes' subconscious, and attempt to factor against another random act of defiance from their I-Man;, like the one back in the forest. But working with a complicated psyche like Darien Fawkes'; there were no absolute guarantees and that's what made Arnaud nervous.

"That is seriously good shit," Darien slurred with a sigh and a dreamy smile as the drug coursed quickly through his system.

Arnaud withdrew and set aside the now empty syringe, applied a band aid to cover the injection point on Darien's arm and then pulled off the latex surgical gloves, tossing them onto the low coffee table. Only then did he finally turn his attention to Tomaszko

The man could sense De Fehrn's burning discontent, but with his goal so tantalizingly close he was damned if he would give him another chance to indulge his sorry reasoning as to why this entire venture at this time was such a terrible idea. Whether De Fehrn accepted it or not,. he was the one calling the shots and he was just about to tell him so in no uncertain terms, when his attention was distracted by the voice of the figure still lying prone on the couch.

"Do you think we could maybe order room service?" Darien was asking, a hopeful but still slightly spaced out grin playing on his face as he pushed himself into a sitting position and stared around at the stern-faced individuals crowded around him.

"Are you sure he's ready for this?" Tomaszko snapped, throwing a dubious glance in Darien's direction. "Because there's no margin for error." He then returned his attention to Arnaud, fixing him with a look that would have had sent lesser men scurrying for cover.

"He's as ready as he can be under the circumstances," Arnaud responded peevishly, too pissed off himself to be intimidated by a mere death glare. He was still seething from the haste in which they had been forced to evacuate the Belnickov Institute, destroying some of the valuable research in the process. There hadn't even been sufficient time to go back for the luscious Dr. Keeply, though he was absolutely certain that she and The Agency would be hot on their trail before very long. "But these conditions are hardly conducive to…"

"Cause it's been kind of a long day and we had to skip breakfast…" Darien's voice cut across, recounting the reasons that food was an absolute necessity.

"…productive programming. And I did warn you that we might encounter problems if we were forced to rush the process," Arnaud continued tightly, smarting at Tomaszko's obvious indifference and aware that it was pointless to focus on Fawkes's current instability. Besides, he seemed to be under control now - though Arnaud promised himself that once this was all over and done with, he'd fix the man's insufferable habit of badgering and whining until he got his own way.

"…and then we missed lunch…."

Arnaud rolled his eyes.

Tomaszko took another long moment to study the young man with the gift of invisibility, who was pivotal to his future. In just a few short hours, Darien Fawkes was going to be the tool to rid him rid him of Yuri Danzic in a truly spectacular fashion, and in so doing would help him to fulfill his destiny.

Enough forensic evidence would be found to point the finger of blame at the opposition leader, Boris Gregoravich. Then in the aftermath of the 'tragedy', Tomaszko would step forward as the sympathetic and uniting voice of his grieving people. With the Presidency secured and the funds from his sizeable share of Arnaud's Quicksilver auction swelling the numbers in his Swiss bank account in the very near future, he would be virtually untouchable; a new force to be reckoned with in the Balkan States and then hopefully on the World political stage..

It was such a beautiful plan.

"..all I'm saying here, is that if you guys…and gals," he threw Ella a goofy grin, "want me to do my invisible stuff…" He raised his hand and fired an imaginary pistol at Arnaud to make his point. "Well, I just think it's worth mentioning that I won't be on top form if I'm running on empty."

Arnaud let out a long suffering sigh and turned towards one of his own men, who had been hovering over on the far side of the room awaiting orders. "Oh, for god's sake, get the fool something to eat before I smother him," he snapped, choosing to ignore Darien's satisfied "Woo-hoo".

Grudsk - Late evening

The Grudsk National Exhibition and Conference Center was an architectural masterpiece. A sprawling oval glass and steel structure, nestling on the banks of the river Tibor, and despite its modern design somehow blended perfectly into its surroundings, nestled within the still largely medieval city.

The Latovanian's were extremely proud of this new building., the first of many built with the help of foreign investment - which also included a hospital, a library and a modernization plan for the ancient University campus - to herald in their new era of freedom and development in a previously struggling economy. And tonight their President, Yuri Danzic was presiding over the official opening ceremony for the venue.

Ground level was where the main exhibition halls were situated , with meeting and conference rooms on the next level. A restaurant dominated the entire top of the structure, with the floor to ceiling glass panels giving a stunning view across the river and city, to the mountains and the forests in the distance.

Security was tight and all guests had to pass through numerous checks including metal detectors and body searches, irrespective of rank or status, before they were finally directed up to the restaurant where the slightly-built and gray-haired form of Yuri Danzic himself waited to greet them.

Now in his late-sixties, he was known to be a straightforward, no-nonsense man, who didn't see the point in elaborate acts of showmanship or grand entrances. If he were honest, he actually didn't feel that comfortable in these sort of social surroundings, but he knew it was important to his people to be seen to celebrate their successes from time to time. His aides had convinced him that it also didn't hurt to use this event for some good old-fashioned public relations, ahead of the election in two days time.

Every shake of every hand was accompanied by numerous flashes, as the moment was captured for posterity by the bank of photographers and TV crews lined up on the opposite side of the entrance to President Danzic. If the elderly man was tiring from the seemingly endless queue of guests and their incessant and often inane chatter, he didn't show it. Taking the time to smile graciously for his guests and for the cameras, his face creasing into a genuine smile and his keen blues eyes sparkling with pleasure when he came across someone he recognized, be it a foreign dignitary or a member of his own campaign staff.

From way across the room, Danzic's every move was being watched by Bobby Hobbes and Mikhail Tzarnov, looking resplendent in their tuxedos, and Claire, positioned just to the side of the press pack and dressed to kill in a dark red gown, split to the thigh to reveal a long shapely leg. Where Tzarnov had got the evening wear from in the correct sizes at such short notice was a mystery, but Bobby's regard for this man grew with every passing minute.

A soft hiss of static from his miniature earpiece was followed a moment later by Eberts reporting in. He was currently patrolling the basement and lower levels including the underground parking garage with Lili and a team of LMI agents.

"Batman to Robin. Come in Robin."

Bobby grimaced. "Robin receiving. Gimme the sit rep Ebes?" he responded irritably.

"And then explain to me again why you get to be the Caped Crusader and I'm demoted to sidekick, when I'm the senior agent here, huh? Over."

"The basement is clear. No-one down here who shouldn't be. We're now proceeding to ground level to monitor arrivals," Eberts reported in his own clipped and efficient manner, then added, "And I don't need to point out that while you might very well be the senior agent, I am in charge of communications and, as such, am at liberty to select the code names for the mission. Over." Bobby could almost envisage the supercilious smirk plastering the younger man's face.

"Well, Batfink, you know what you can do with your…"

"BOYS!" Claire cut in sharply across their secure channel. "Can we stop with the petty squabbling. We've got an important job to do, you know."

Bobby lowered his eyes in shame under her reprimanding scowl from way across the restaurant, and Eberts came back quickly with an apology.

"Good! Now that we've all kissed and made up, let's just find Darien shall we?" Her lovely eyes suddenly sparkled with mischief. "Wonder Woman over and out."


A burst of activity accompanied by the fevered shouts and frenzied camera flashes from the assembled press pack heralded the arrival of Theodore Tomaszko and his entourage, his entrance timed to perfection to ensure the attention was entirely focused on him. He posed for the paparazzi and gave sound bites to the TV crews, before sweeping into the restaurant and making a huge show of greeting President Danzic and the other VIPs.

Claire hitched a breath when she caught sight of who was part of Tomaszko's large group, moving further into the venue and concealing herself behind a steel column before contacting Bobby and Eberts.

"I've already seen him," came Bobby's controlled response as he scowled darkly across from his own vantage point at Arnaud De Fehrn, who was currently sipping from a glass of champagne and looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

Bobby bit down a growl. "Any sign of Darien or Cru-Ella?" he asked.

"Nothing as yet." Concern and disappointment evident in Claire's tone.

Eberts response was also a firm negative.

Indicating to Mikhail with a hand gesture that he was going to circulate Bobby moved off, talking once again to his Agency colleagues over their secure link.

"Well I'd bet a years salary and Golda that they're here somewhere. I can feel it in my bones."


An hour or so later with the official opening ceremony and the obligatory speeches over and done with, the atmosphere in the restaurant was relaxed and convivial, with guests mingling happily in groups or in couples, while consuming champagne by the magnum and feasting on the rich canapés served from silver trays by the white uniformed waiting staff.

Bobby was making his way back to the main restaurant after a fairly urgent trip to the bathroom, when Claire made contact to advise him that Theodore Tomaszko was on the move. In the short time it took him to maneuver his way through the still densely crowded venue to get back to her , the Latovanian would-be politician and his entourage had already gone.

Cursing under his breath and trying to control his mounting agitation, Bobby asked.. "Do we know if De Freak went with him?"

Claire shook her head and shrugged. "Sorry Bobby, it happened so fast I really didn't get the chance to check."

Eberts voice came through. He was still positioned in the main entrance monitoring guest arrivals and departures. "Theodore Tomazko has just got into his car and left. There's no sign of Dr. De Fehrn."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "I've got a very bad feeling about this!"

The plan was working perfectly. Arnaud De Fehrn had used the fuss surrounding Tomaszko's departure as a means to peel off from the main group as they headed to the elevators. Doubling back he ducked in through a non-descript doorway to the left of the bar which he knew from the plans he'd studied so meticulously led to a large storeroom.

He also instinctively knew that his movements had gone undetected by the ever irritating

Agent Hobbes and the always breathtaking Dr. Keeply, who had spent almost their entire evening watching him. But while they were watching him, he'd found it very amusing to watch them right back, even raising his champagne glass in their direction at one point in a silent toast - a talent for lip reading was non essential to catch the gist of Hobbes' openly hostile response Knowing that they didn't dare lay a hand on him while he was in such esteemed company added to the fun; even the Agency's Latovanian security buddies couldn't touch him tonight, not without causing a major diplomatic incident in front of the worlds media.

Fumbling around in the darkness until he found the light switch he squinted into the shadowed area at the rear of the storeroom, noting straight away that a carton lay open and several empty and discarded bags of potato chips were strewn across the floor.

"Fawkes, are you in here?" he whispered sharply.

His answer came when something icy cold tickled the back of his neck.

Merde!

"We really don't have time for your juvenile antics," he hissed a warning to his invisible tormentor. "In case you haven't noticed, time is of the essence."

"Spoilsport." Darien's grinning form materialized to the side of him. Popping another potato chip into his mouth, he screwed up the empty bag and tossed it onto the floor with the others. . "And speaking of time. You took plenty of it getting here."

Choosing to ignore the thinly barbed slight, Arnaud snapped his fingers and held out his hand impatiently and a moment later a gun was pressed into his palm. Darien also quickly checked the clip in his own gun before tucking it back into the waistband in the small of his back.

"The device?" Arnaud asked brusquely.

"All primed and ready to go kaboom at your command , oh beloved leader," came the mock serious response.. Glancing at his wristwatch he added, "I'll activate the timer as soon as we're ready to get the hell out of here. That should give us plenty of time to make it down to the basement and get in position before the real fun begins."

Setting his own wristwatch, Arnaud nodded his approval. Fawkes' irreverent and casual attitude might at times be a monumental pain in the ass, but there was no denying that the Agency had achieved the near impossible and turned him into an effective operative over the past couple of years, even if that fact had now been conveniently blotted from his memory.

"Okay. Let's proceed."

Darien responded with a quick affirmative nod of his head, then moved to the back of the storeroom and squatted down to activate the small explosive device he'd placed in among a pile of cartons; hoping they would be sufficient to contain the force of the small controlled explosion. The aim wasn't to maim or injure the party guests, just to cause some good old-fashioned mayhem and then mass evacuation. With the timer activated, he pulled himself to his full height and then triggered the Quicksilver flow to coat his own body and then Arnaud's completely.

None of the guests noticed the door of the inconspicuous storeroom opening and closing, and were totally oblivious to the two tall invisible figures that exited in a hurry and raced for the main staircase down to the lower levels.


The explosion when it came though not colossal, was powerful enough to blow out the flimsy door of the storeroom and send it hurtling through the air for several feet, and to rattle the large windows running along both sides of the restaurant. Two of the glass shelves behind the bar shattered, sending bottles and glasses crashing to the floor and smoke immediately billowed out of the storeroom, followed by small flames that fanned the now gaping doorway.

A brief moment of shocked inertia from the stunned guests, transformed into utter pandemonium as soon as the alarm bells sounded and the sprinklers triggered.

Bobby pushed himself to his knees and stared around in alarm. In their frantic search for Arnaud, he and Claire had separated and he'd been midway across the restaurant heading towards the bar area when all hell had broken loose. A large group standing just ahead of him had instinctively ducked and scattered as the device exploded and the door blew out, and Bobby was knocked to the floor in their frantic scramble to get clear.

Now amid the chaos and the terrified screams and cries that reverberated around the place, he sensed what was coming next. Mere seconds later, his fears were realized as mass hysteria kicked in and the guests surged towards the exits.

Over the noise, he could hear Claire's voice calling to him through his earpiece.

"Oh, thank God," was her relieved response when he finally managed to cough out an answer.

"Keepie, where are you now?" he asked, jumping aside just in time to avoid being trampled by another surging tidal wave of bodies.

"I'm with Mikhail. We've just started down the stairs behind the kitchen."

In their earlier briefing it had been agreed that in the event of any trouble, the exit to the rear of the restaurant kitchen was the best of three approved escape routes plotted for Danzic. They led all the way down through the exhibition center to the lower levels and to the underground parking garage where the Presidential convoy of vehicles would be ready and waiting.

Bobby cursed. Though pleased that Claire had managed to keep her wits about her and follow procedure, he was all too aware that for the moment he was cut off from the retreating group. Moving as fast as he could against the still panicking mass of bodies, he pushed his way through and headed for the swing doors leading to the kitchens, hailing Eberts as he moved. The younger man came through loud and clear almost immediately.

"Okay , Batman. You're the closest, so looks like it might be you against the bad guys until I can get my ass down there. Ebes, you up to this? Cause if you're…"

"Uh, oh yes, Robert," came the hesitant acknowledgement. And then in a voice filled with sudden gritty determination. "You can count on me"


Placing the second, larger, bomb on the underside of President Danzic's armor-plated limousine had been a piece of cake for Darien. And knowing that the six heavily armed guards panned out around the vehicle were oblivious to his presence - even as he worked with practiced ease right under their noses - only added to the overall buzz of excitement.

The job done, he returned as ordered to the dark vehicle sitting inconspicuously at the end of a row on the far side of the cavernous underground garage, conveniently close to an exit ramp - engine idling softly. From that position, they had an unobstructed view of the rear stairwell where President Danzic and his entourage would emerge any second now and of the official convoy of cars, ready to carry their leader to safety - or so they thought.

"So, you wanna tell me again why we're hitting this guy…Danzic…here and now?" Darien asked, sitting forward in his seat and peering curiously between Arnaud and Ella.

Arnaud let out an exasperate sigh. In the interminable period as they waited, Darien's nagging doubts had started to return. In the drivers seat beside him, Ella Craven kept her face schooled into a neutral expression while studying the handsome object of her obsession in the rear view mirror.

"Now is not the time, Fawkes," De Fehrn hissed condescendingly, furious beyond belief that the EPC conditioning was prone to degenerate so rapidly, resulting in these random moments of unrest. When this was over and they could extract themselves from Tzarnov's control, his first priority would be to fix it - permanently. "You are just the tool and you'd do well to remember that. And also remember it's not your place to question every single goddamned order."

"Hey, fine with me," was the tetchy response. Darien gave Arnaud a sullen 'look' then leaned back in his seat and folded his arms defensively.

A long stretch of silence followed during which Arnaud congratulated himself on exerting some authority and putting the aggravating little prick in his place…and then...

"All I'm saying is, wouldn't it have been better to wait and make the hit somewhere less…confined?"

Arnaud growled a warning and with her nerves already stretched to breaking, Ella had to fight back the urge to scream or give the love of her life a well-deserved blast from the Control Device. Instead she half turned to face him and placed a hand on his cheek, speaking to him as though an adult to a truculent 5-year-old..

"We've been through this a hundred times, baby." To her credit, her voice betrayed nothing of her real ire. "There may never be a better chance to get past his security."

"Well, that's hardly a problem for…" he began, only to be quieted by her fingers pressing against his lips.

"Ours is not to reason why, " she countered. "We can't afford to let that devil win the election." In order to make her point she softened her tone and her features, before playing the ace card. "Think of all the women and children who have died since Danzic came to power, Darien. He has the blood of innocents on his hands, but we have the power to stop him."

Arnaud's mouth twitched convulsively as he fought to conceal his amusement, at the same time feeling a burst of admiration for his cousin's power of manipulation. Damn, she was good.

Darien lowered his head briefly, his fragile conscience fighting to accept the version of Danzic's 'tainted Presidency' that had so recently been programmed into his psyche by Arnaud. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he gave a slight nod of acceptance as his gaze rose furtively to meet Ella's once again.

"Good boy," Ella caressed his face, before her attention was diverted by the flurry of activity over by the presidential vehicles.

"It's time," Arnaud stated curtly, raising the compact detonator which had been pre-set to activate the bomb. Now all they had to do was wait until the target was in range

His finger hovered over the button in readiness...


With gun grasped firmly in one hand and compulsively wiping the clammy palm of his other up and down his trouser leg, Eberts edged his way around the vast parking garage with Lili following close on his heels. Despite the fact that her senses were focused on a possible confrontation with President Danzic's would-be-assassins she still wondered why, when they were two levels below ground, Albert had felt the need to don dark shades the moment they had descended from the stairwell.

No doubt about it; these particular American agents were definitely strange…endearing… but strange.

As President Danzic and his entourage emerged from the stairwell - with Mikhail Tzarnov leading the way and Claire just visible to the rear of the group - Eberts was methodically scanning his surrounding via his infra-red glasses when a slight movement caught his eye and drew his attention to a vehicle parked two rows over. Motioning for Lili to follow, he hunched low and set off in that direction to check it out. As they drew closer, Eberts cautiously peeked from behind the relative safety of one of the concrete support columns lining the entire perimeter of the garage and as he did the figure sitting in the front passenger seat of the car shifted forward and for a second Arnaud's sharp, aristocratic profile was partially visible as it emerged from the shadows.

Eberts hitched in a breath, darted back behind the column and contacted Hobbes.


When Bobby Hobbes burst through the heavy door from the stairwell just minutes behind the Presidential group, he knew exactly what was about to happen. Eberts' slightly breathy report on his sighting of Arnaud had confirmed the worst. Though he and Tzarnov had debated various scenarios, this one had seemed the most risky and unlikely of them all, but now he knew beyond doubt that if they allowed Danzic to reach his car he was a dead man.

Knowing he himself couldn't get to the Latovanian leader in time, Hobbes started yelling at the top of his voice until several of the LMI team glanced back in the direction of the commotion.

"Get down. Everyone get the fuck down!"

Tzarnov reacted instinctively and immediately to the American agents shouted warning and frantic arm waving. Moving at speed, he grabbed the President around the waist just as he was about to be pushed into the rear of his limousine, and lifted him bodily from the protective cocoon of his bodyguards. Half-carrying, half-dragging the bewildered man, he pushed him flat on the ground behind a long row of cars and then shielded his body with his own.

Two of the bodyguards rushed to join them, while others in the group ducked down or ran for cover.

Then they waited…


Arnaud let loose some colorful Swiss-French expletives as soon as Hobbes came crashing through the door.

Knowing now that they couldn't afford to wait until Danzic was in his vehicle, Arnaud pressed down firmly and decisively on the button to detonate the bomb, knowing that the resulting explosion should be powerful enough to kill or severely maim anyone within the immediate vicinity.

Nothing happened!

"Merde!"

He jabbed at the button frantically before turning accusing eyes to Darien, who was watching with thinly veiled amusement from his back seat.

"Idiot," he snarled. "This is your fault. What have you done?"

"Hey, don't look at me. I was just the freakin' tool, remember," came the slightly smuge response.

Ella laid a firm hand on Arnaud's forearm as she was a little unsettled by the tension radiating from her cousin.. "If you're going to blame anyone, then blame Tomaszko and his shitty sub-standard equipment. Arnaud, let's just get the hell out of here while we still can, eh?"

But Arnaud was shaking his head adamantly . "No! We…Fawkes… needs to see this through. If I go back on the deal with Theo, we'll never be free of the bastard." If his attitude surprised her, then his next actions were a total shock. To her complete astonishment he opened his door and climbed out of the car , impatiently gesturing for Darien to do the same

"To hell with finesse," Arnaud hissed as he gave Darien a single sharp jolt from the Control Device, then grabbed a handful of his collar to bring them practically face to face with the young man as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. He leaned in and whispered the trigger word and Darien's reaction was instantaneous; his body straightening and his attention focused on Arnaud De Fehrn, who snapped abruptly. "Now go and finish the job properly."

With just a nod to acknowledge his orders, Darien pulled the gun from his waistband, checked the clip, and then with a remote grin muttered, "It's showtime!" as he triggered the gland.

"No wait," Ella cried as Darien disappeared beneath his QS shroud, then turned her shocked outrage on her cousin as he also started to move off. "Where the hell are you going?"

Forcing his version of a reassuring smile onto his face he turned back to her, but his expression did little to soothe her mounting suspicion and anxiety. "I'll double round behind," he indicated vaguely in the general direction of Danzic et al. "…and lay down some covering fire. Don't worry about me, just grab Fawkes when you can and get clear. I'll find you both later. Now GO, " was his final abrupt command before he faded into the dark outer recesses of the car park.

With no time to really question Arnaud's bizarre actions, Ella grabbed the wheel and floored the accelerator. At the very least she was determined to keep Darien out of the clutches of his former colleagues. After that they would just have to improvise, because there was no way she was going anywhere without him.


"Oh, no…Darien," Eberts muttered sadly and Lili followed his gaze - or where she thought he was staring, though it was difficult to tell with his eyes obscured from her view. Apart from the endless row upon row of parked cars awaiting their owners return, she saw nothing out of the ordinary or unusual. Her attention focused back to the clearly agitated young man as he spoke into his mic. "Batman to Rob…oh crap. Robert, Darien's on the move and headed towards you."

Hobbes responded almost immediately. "Do what you have to do Ebes," came the breathless order. "Try to distract him…anything…but we gotta keep him away from Danzic. Tzarnov and his team will shoot to kill if it means protecting their President. "

"Affirmative, Robert."

Eberts watched through anxious eyes as the invisible Darien suddenly dodged to one side and ducked down behind a large van Making a spur of the moment decision and with a vague gesture to Lili to remain where she was, he zeroed in on Darien's position at a crouching run.

As the long, tense moments ticked by and nothing happened - no violent explosion or barrage of gun shots - the Presidential retinue began to emerge from their temporary shelters, slowly and hesitantly at first, taking their cue from Tzarnov who was now up and assisting Yuri Danzic to his feet. And in that moment Darien finally broke cover, sprinting the remaining distance that separated him from his prey and raising his gun in readiness to fire.

Afterwards, no one was able to completely recount the precise sequence of events. Those closest to the action would recall the unmistakable revving of an engine from somewhere over on the far side of the garage and then the loud squeal of rubber on asphalt, the pounding of feet on the hard surface and voices raised in panic and anger.

Eberts wasn't that far behind Darien, emerging from between a row of vehicles and running flat out and breathing heavily as he gave everything he had to catch up with the longer and steadier strides of his still shrouded colleague. With mere seconds to spare before Darien reached his target, Eberts took his chance and with a surge of adrenaline and an almost primeval roar lunged at the taller man and brought him down over the hood of the Presidential limousine with an impressive flying tackle.

Still only halfway to his feet, President Danzic froze as he and his entourage turned as one, shocked at the sight of the lone man who had seemingly thrown himself bodily across the hood of the car and was now thrashing around wildly, rolling back and forth in front of them - possibly in the throws of some sort of seizure!

A disembodied voice raised in irritation was coming from somewhere close by.

"Get offa me you little bastard," Darien growled, as he struggled beneath the stockier bulk of the vaguely familiar geeky guy who'd jumped him and was now trying to pin him down. He bucked his body wildly in an attempt to get free and finally, with a violent jerk, he managed to throw off his assailant and propel him off with arms flapping wildly as he tried to break the momentum of his backward plummet.

While the group were still so obviously mesmerized by Eberts' weird antics, Darien used the distraction to his advantage. With no clear shot at President Danzic from his current position he sprinted a couple of steps, vaulted easily onto the roof of an adjacent car and from there launched himself at the man.

In the instant before he crashed bodily into the small man and his guards, Darien thought he heard someone shout his name. But then he was enmeshed in a tangle of bodies as they all went down to the ground heavily.

Shouting and panic. Lots of it. And then a collective gasp went up from those close enough to witness Darien's form suddenly shimmering into view from amid the struggling tangle of bodies. Using the shock factor that his sudden re-appearance caused to his advantage, Darien savagely head butted the man closest to him and then pistol whipped the other. Then he grabbed President Danzic by the collar and jammed the muzzle of his weapon spitefully into his temple.

"Back off," he spat viciously as the armed LMI agents and Presidential bodyguards quickly panned out around the two still kneeling men, rushing to block any attempted escape route. Every single weapon was at that moment leveled at Darien, who was breathing heavily from his frenetic exertions. .

"Give it up, Fawkesy." Bobby Hobbes shoved his way through the human barrier to confront his partner, careful to keep the muzzle of his own gun deliberately down at his side

Just to his left, Mikhail Tzarnov was groggily pulling himself upright, with blood oozing from between the fingers covering his broken nose. From all around him, Bobby was aware of whispers and vague signaling, and he knew he had to work fast if he wanted to avoid one of the trigger-hungry Latovanian agents from taking a pot shot at his partner in the hope of becoming an instant hero. If it came down to worst case scenario and someone had to take him out to save Yuri Danzic, then he would be the one to do it. Clean and fast.

"Well, well, Robbie. Fancy meeting you here." Darien flashed a cocky grin in Hobbes' direction, .though part of him was struggling to remember exactly why he was supposed to distrust this man. "How's the arm?" he asked amiably.

Bobby flexed his injured shoulder and grimaced. "Could've been worse, I guess,." he responded with a wry smile of his own. When he spoke again he kept the tone of his voice deliberately low and even to calm the younger man.. "Put down the gun Fawkesy and release President Danzic. Then me and you can walk right on out of here and go home."

He ignored Tzarnov's low snort of disapproval at that promise.

"Nope. Sorry," Darien was shaking his head almost regretfully as he looped his left arm around Danzic's neck, pulling the smaller body flush with his own. He took a quick glance around to check out the entire group. ""I got my orders and I've gotta do this, it's for the best. So you'd better tell your buddies to back off."

Bobby shrugged sadly. "They've got their orders too, my friend. And I gotta tell ya that there ain't a single hope in hell of you getting out of here alive if you harm their President."

Darien glanced down at the man in question, who had somehow managed to twist himself slightly and turn his head so that he could stare back at his assailant with a steady, unwavering gaze. If the eyes truly were the window to a person's soul, then this man certainly didn't have the look of the cold-blooded dictator who had supposedly slaughtered thousands of his fellow countryman. Danzic obviously came to the same conclusion about Darien at the same moment..

"You're not a killer, young man," he murmured softly, still commanding Darien's gaze until eventually he was forced to close his eyes and shake his head to break the spell.

Darien strengthened his grip on the small body and took another look about him, feeling unsettled now. He licked his lips nervously and then pushed himself to his feet, tugging Danzic up with him

Where was Ella?

His answer came from somewhere ahead of him when a car skidded to a halt with an ear-piercing screech,. followed a moment later by the thunderous blast of a gunshot as it echoed loudly within the cavernous underground space.

"Bring the fucker and get in," Ella shouted almost hysterically as the group parted and scattered, giving Darien an unobstructed view and route to the woman now standing expectantly by the wide open door of the car, her gun raised and aiming steadily at Danzic. "Anyone moves, and I'll put a bullet in him myself," she warned.

Darien immediately urged the man forward using his bodyweight, but was then stopped in his tracks as another familiar voice rocked his unstable subconscious.

"Don't do this, Darien," came the soft plea. "Don't let them put innocent blood on your hands."

Claire - his supposed Keeper - now stood alongside Bobby Hobbes, and as Darien's gaze traveled from her back to Ella and then down again at the man still firmly caught in his grasp, those tiny pangs of doubt returned with a vengeance and began an all-out battle, as his conscience and intrinsic decency warred with his EPC programming.

Confused and panicked, he backed them up some more towards the waiting vehicle, Ella urging him on all the while with a triumphant sneer plastered across her face. The atmosphere was charged and heavy with a mix of fear and frustration. No one dared move as to do so would undoubtedly put President Danzic at risk.

All they had to do now was get Danzic into the vehicle and they were practically home free, but Ella's euphoria was short lived. Darien paused, took another two or three backward steps, then suddenly slackened his grip on the man and pushed him firmly aside.

"What are you doing?" Ella hissed incredulously, as Darien turned slowly to face her.

With a rueful smile he shrugged and then tossed his gun to the ground, before raising his hands and lacing his fingers behind his head in the universal sign of surrender for the benefit of the armed group at his back.

"They're right. I can't do this,." came his resigned, almost weary response. "It's over."

"Like hell it is," she spat venomously, raising her gun and pointing it at President Danzic, but Darien already anticipating this sidestepped directly into her line of fire, an ironic smile plastering his face.

Staring at him incredulously and ignoring the many weapons now leveled at her, Ella calmly and deliberately moved the muzzle of her gun until it was placed in the center of Darien's forehead.

"Shit," Bobby muttered. By his side he felt Claire tense and heard Eberts hitch in a breath.

Now that his President was safe, Tzarnov was willing to take guidance from his American counterparts and let this play out their way…for the moment at least. He caught Hobbes' curse and the almost imperceptible shake of his head and instantly signaled to his agents to hold their fire.

"It's over when I say it's over, do you hear me.," Ella spat furiously at Darien, gauging metal against flesh until he flinched to make her point. "So get your ass in the car now." Her vengeful gaze drifted over to Hobbes and Claire. "And if you don't believe I'm willing to put a bullet between his pretty puppy eyes to stop you taking him away from me again, then just try me."

With a resigned sigh, Darien took those last few steps to the open door of the car, with Ella angling her body slightly so that he could squeeze past As he bowed his head and leaned down to climb in on the drivers side he froze, suddenly, his entire body tensing then he began to tremble and in the next instant his legs buckled beneath him and he collapsed to his knees, frantically clutching at his head. A long anguished whimper left him as he battled the now familiar pulsating agony from deep within his skull.

As cold realization struck, Ella screamed out and outraged "NO!" and reached out to vainly grab at him, but any further hope of dragging Darien into the car was cut off by a a single gun shot which ripped her weapon painfully from her grasp. She raised hate-filled eyes to stare at Hobbes, his gun steady and aimed squarely at her just daring her to touch his partner, and she knew she simply had no choice. With an hysterical, wounded scream Ella jumped into the vehicle, stepped on the gas and with a squeal of burning rubber sped towards the exit ramp.

Both Hobbes and Mikhail Tzarnov raced out together, aiming their weapons and firing round after round into the rear of the rapidly retreating vehicle. For a heart stopping moment it looked as if somehow, ludicrously, they had missed their target, but just before it reached the ramp the car swerved, veered wildly to the left and collided force into several vehicles. It skidded on for a short distance more and then smashed head on into a concrete column An eerie almost surreal silence followed before a flame shot out from within the mangled and buckled wreckage. A moment later the car exploded violently in a ball of fire.

For the longest time Bobby just stared at the inferno, reeling back from the intense heat even from this distance He tried to summon some feeling of sympathy…or anything… for the violent and abrupt end of the woman known as Ella Craven. But in the end he really had nothing to give. He was just glad that Darien was free of her…finally.

He exchanged a brief nod with Mikhail Tzarnov, holstered his gun and walked back to join his friends.


Arnaud De Fehrn ducked back through one of the many fire doors and took the stairs to ground level two at a time, whistling contentedly as he twirled Darien's Trigger Device around on his finger. Some part of him mourned the sad demise of his cousin - such a beautiful loyal creature - but when it became clear that their mission was going to fail, hard choices needed to be made. Ella was an easy sacrifice if it meant that Darien Fawkes and his Gland was still alive and kicking and available for some possible future 'show and tell' activity.

No one stopped him as he made it to ground level, melting effortlessly into the throng of emergency vehicles and onlookers surrounding the area.