I stifled a yawn as my lack of anything to do took its toll on me. Everyone on our floor was busy with some aspect of the take-down and had been working almost four hours straight. I, of course, had nothing to do except remember and worry.
I can't help but wonder if I had missed some sign that she was planning to leave. If I had known, I would have stopped her. I should have stopped her. There had to have been something I could have done or could have said. It was about two o'clock in the hotel when I finally couldn't keep my eyes closed, and I thought she was asleep beside Ade.
Apparently not an hour later, they phoned in that we were at the hotel. I felt, I don't know, almost betrayed, I guess. She was like a long-lost sister to me. It hurt to know she was gone, and in danger no less. I couldn't help but think she was out there, tired and being hunted by those – erasers I think she said they were. I cringed again, the memory of our first meeting with the hairy werewolf creatures.
I wondered how her wound was doing. Was it hurting her even now?
There had to be something I could do, right?
I got up and headed to Peter's office, knocking before entering, catching him just as he finished another phone call with one of his superiors.
"What," he snapped, impatient.
"Can I down across the street for a bit to eat? I don't have anything to do, and I don't think I can stand much more time to just think."
Sympathy flashed on his face, and he nodded, already dialing the next number. I walked out and pulled my cell phone out when I was safely in the elevator. After a minute of ringing, Mozzy finally answered with a muffled and annoyed hello, "Can you meet at the diner across from the office?"
"It's not like I'm just twiddling my thumbs here Neal; I do have things to do," I could hear his impatience and imagined he was either cracking a safe right now or sweeping for bugs.
"Please, Moz; it's important."
Maybe my tone was enough, but the faint clinking sound in the background stopped and Moz answered, "It is far more pleasant to receive flowers when you are able to smell them."
It took me a minute as I exited the building to remember who the quote was from, but I never doubted the meaning. I should thank Moz more often for being there for me.
Five minutes and a flirtatious waitress later, Moz slid into the chair across from me. "Okay, spill," he said, straight to the point.
I feigned hurt, "Are you in a hurry?"
Unfazed he said, "Well, yes and no. I'll tell you about it later. What's so important that I had to be here now?"
I looked away, before beginning, another pang of concern for Ezzy distracting me, "Did you get anything on the Institute? I know you've only had two days to try and wasn't high on the priority list, but things have…become complicated."
Mozzy leaned back, analyzing possibilities before answering, "I have a couple of sources who know some things, but other than the standard dirt, I don't think I have anything that stands out."
I deflated slightly, having hoped that he would have something…more useful, I guess.
I found myself wringing the napkin, and forced myself to stop, an action that was not missed by Mozzy's keen eyes.
"What," he asked, leaning forward, his former impatient attitude replaced by concern.
"I assume you heard of our disappearance yesterday," at this Mozzy nodded, his eyebrows knitting together as the gears in his head began spinning, "We were abducted by two children."
At this, Mozzy almost laughed, his face plastered with disbelief, before my serious face convinced him otherwise.
"As it turns out, they were…experiments," I almost choked on the word, but forced myself to continue, "And they actually saved our lives, twice actually. Once we were safe, they left us and called in the FBI to find us, which is why we were at the office now. The problem is that Institute is still hunting them and doing God knows what else. Peter plans on taking them down today, and I was hoping we could find something else to help expedite the process."
Mozzy listened without judging, nodding his head at the end, "I knew the government was experimenting on people. What did I tell you about Big Brother? I'm sure their working on mind control next if they haven't finished already!"
He paused a moment, noticing my seriousness, "I'm sure I can do something. I was planning on meeting someone in an hour anyhow. I'll call you if I get anything good. In the meantime, I'll check with a couple other people."
As our waitress passed us, he called out to her, "Could I get my pie to go?"
I added, "I would like my Chef's Salad to go too."
She turned away with a smile and Mozzy finished off his coffee. "Good luck," he offered, pulling out his wallet and accepting the Styrofoam box. I accepted mine and nodded to Mozzy, my mind back on Ezzy. Had she gotten anything to eat today?
I left as soon as I finished paying and headed back to the office. Picking at the salad, I tried not to think too much. The smell of pizza announced the food for the rest of the staff had arrived and they flocked over to where the delivery man left it, most of them with their work still in hand and phone in ear.
I leaned back in my chair with a heavy sigh, giving up the attempt to eat. I picked up a pencil and examined it, then spun once or twice in my chair, wishing there was something for me to do.
Finally, I got up and paced. On my fourth loop, Jones stopped me and said Peter wanted a word. I was up the stairs in a second, and walked right into his office. He looked up and motioned for me to close the door and take a seat.
Once I was seated, Peter's face became very grave, "I want you to sit this one out Neal."
A very long heartbeat later, "Why?"
Another second and the anger gave me words, "Why on earth Peter! I have to come! I've been sitting here for hours, pouring over every possible way I could think to help, and then forced to sit there when I couldn't do anything else. I need to be there when these people are taken down! I know the things to look for and having another pair of eyes to find what we need is important; we can't miss anything!"
Peter was patient, but when I had vented, he explained, "We don't know what they might have in the building. I need people trained with firearms, and willing to use them. I'm sorry Neal, but you can't come because you can't be issued a weapon to protect yourself with."
I got the point, but that didn't mean I agreed, "I swear I won't leave the group, and if it comes to the point where they need to use those firearms, I will stay out of the way! I'll do anything Peter, just let me be there!"
Peter looked like he was wavering, so I pushed it just a little, treading lightly, "I'm useful to the team, and I'm one of the only four people you have who knows exactly what to look for."
Peter wavered a little more, and I willed him to see it my way and agree.
Finally, he sought middle ground, "You can come with us to the building, but you can't come in until we secure the building and arrest Dr. Michaels. Understand? You get van guarding duty for the first half."
I nodded, crossing my fingers behind my back. At least it was a start; I would find a way to convince him otherwise later.
He waved me off; returning to whatever paperwork was on his desk. I went back down and stared at my salad, wondering if I should try to finish it, or if what we found at the Institute would make me lose it. I had just decided to eat half when my phone went off.
I answered immediately, "Moz?"
"I found something interesting and concerning. The interesting news is that my contact has photographic evidence of these...winged werewolves in the city, concentrated around the Institute," Moz paused, still wrapping his mind around it.
I understood; I wouldn't have believed me two days ago that winged werewolves and flying children existed.
He continued, "The concerning news is that they are in the process of moving. As in they've likely been at it for days or even weeks now. They seem to be doing it through…shady means, so everything is going through quickly and quietly. If you don't get them today, you may not be able to. I'm sending you the pictures he gave me. Good luck and be careful; according to this guy, he's seen some other nasty looking creatures that can kill."
"Thanks Moz, I'll be careful, and I'll get these pictures to Peter, I'm sure this Intel can help."
We hung up and I practically ran back to Peter's office, hardly knocking before I barged in. "I think you're going to want these," I handed him my phone with the pictures Mozzy sent me and relayed what he had said, including the names of the shady companies.
Peter just grinned and called in Jones, handing him my phone and telling him to run the pictures and the names, adding it to our stockpile of evidence and probable causes.
I felt jittery all over again, getting impatient for the end of the Institute. Maybe Ezzy and Ade could at least have a life where they weren't being hunted. I wondered if they would ever be able to live without that paranoia. I really hoped they could.
It was a hard life. I wasn't an experiment, but I know that hardship a life on the run can bring.
Almost two hours later, we were driving to the Institute. I got the familiar adrenaline rush that I used to get before a high-profile job. I thought again of how similar it felt to be on both sides of the law. Maybe I could get used to working on this side of the law. It wasn't that bad.
Offhandedly, I wondered if this was anything like going to war. The thought startled me at first, but I supposed it wasn't really that strange. The people around me were either checking and rechecking their equipment and firearms or trying not to fidget. There was a real possibility that people (including experiments) could be injured or killed today.
That realization unsettled my stomach and I decided it was a bad idea to have eaten any of my salad after all.
When we parked, Peter's team got out of the van, and I slipped out behind them. They were so focused on what was in front of them, I was able to follow.
I made it as far as the front desk when Peter glanced behind him to check on the team and saw me. I cringed from the look he gave me, but he didn't slow down. I think he knew I would have come one way or another, and he really did want my help on this.
Two agents stopped at the desk and began shutting things down, starting with the elevators, so we took the stairs. No one spoke the entire trip. Through our radios, one of the agents at the desk informed of us the coordinates Dr. Michaels was located.
Three minutes later, and the same agent almost frantically warned us that Michaels was on the move, using stairs that weren't monitored on surveillance. We froze, waiting for her to show back up on the screens.
My gut was screaming at me that she was close.
"She's on the first sublevel, and she's requesting your presence," the agent informed us, her voice worried. "Only half of that floor is visible, and she wasn't alone when she went done the stairs, but she is now. It looks like a trap."
Peter looked at me pointedly, but I pretended not to notice. Peter then led us down, everyone anxious for another reason now.
We were there quickly, and Peter called to her, "I'm here, now how would you like this to go: the hard way, or the easy way."
"Mr. Burke, I hoped you would have seen reason, but I guess you have poorly chosen the lives of the few. You speak as if you have all the cards in your hands, but I can assure you, you don't," she lectured.
While she was speaking, we edged closer to where she was until all that separated the sight of her from us was a corner. I pushed ahead of several others, but made sure to stay behind Peter, Diana, and Jones.
Just then, the agent radioed us again, "She's going back to where I can't see her."
Peter called trying to goad her, "Dr. Michaels, hiding from us is hardly what I call an ace up your sleeve."
As we rounded the corner, the team fanned out, and I got shoulder to shoulder with Peter, staring down the door Michaels had gone through moments ago.
"Now, now Burke, I wasn't hiding. I was retrieving something," she said as the door slid open, almost in slow motion.
My heart was hammering in my chest and my mouth went dry as the shadowed form of Michaels stepped into the light, a gun in one hand.
The gun that she was tightly pressing to the temple of her hostage.
The gun that she was tightly pressing to the temple of Ade.
