Author's note: More borrowing from "Toby or Not Toby" (Season 2 Episode 24).
When I first started writing this fic, I planned this would be last chapter. The first story of this trilogy, Shell Shocked, had 20 chapters. Aftershocks had 25 and this one would have 30 (love them multiples of 5). Either I underestimated how much story I had left to write or I keep adding more to it because it's been over 4 years since I started writing this AU and I'm reluctant to let it end. Probably a little of both.
As always, I am grateful to all my readers and reviewers. I couldn't do this without your support and kind reviews. Thank you.
CHAPTER THIRTY
"Not good."
"No, it's okay. Yolondra, she was a midwife before, when we lived in Guatemala." Nimah glanced from Toby to Happy with what she must have thought was a reassuring smile. It wasn't.
"We need to call Walt," said the mechanic as she took out her cell.
Toby shook his head. "Not yet. This would only freak him out more than he already is. He needs more facts. We need more facts."
"Then why are we standing around here?" asked Happy, echoing his words from earlier in the day. It seemed so surreal. Five hours ago they had been at a chemical weapons depot in Eastern Oregon. Now they were at a mental institution in Southern California. No one could ever say working for Scorpion was boring.
A hand smacked his arm. "Ow!"
"Pay attention, numbnuts. We need to find out which computer Collins used last," the mechanic said. "So we can check his browsing history."
"Hi, ho, hi, ho. Off to the computer lab we go," he said as he adjusted his hat and followed Happy out the door.
ooooo
Walter slid his phone from his pocket as it started to buzz. "What?" he snapped, frustrated he was still no closer to discovering Paige's whereabouts than he had been when he started. It had been almost two hours since the team had split up to look for clues. All of his so far had been dead ends.
Collins had been leading him on a merry chase. After USC, Walter had been to the bank he'd worked at before starting Scorpion, and currently stood in front of Mark's old house. The new owners had not only repainted it, but had removed the antenna array from the backyard. A postcard he'd found in the paper box wanted him to head out to the Montero nuclear plant.
"Do you want the good news or bad news?" asked Toby.
It was an easy decision to make. "Good."
"Okay, we found out where he might be. It's. . ."
"Where he might be? You're not certain?" He needed facts, not guesses.
"He gained unauthorized access to the internet. We've taken a gander at his search history. . ." the shrink began to explain.
"He was looking at farms for sale," said Happy, cutting off the doc. "The last one he looked at was Ponder Creek Farms."
"He stopped searching when he found what he was looking for." Walter rubbed his free hand over his face. "But why would he be trying to find a farm? I don't think he could afford to buy one."
"Farms are secluded," said Toby. "An unoccupied one even more so. Great place to stash a kidnapping victim. Ow!"
An image of the mechanic smacking some part of the shrink's body made Walter's lips twitch. "He may have been meeting someone there," Happy said, "or picking up something he needed. He may be long gone by now."
"Okay, give me the address and I'll check it out." Walter entered the information into his phone as the mechanic read it to him.
"Don't you want to hear the bad news?" Toby asked.
"Not particularly, but go ahead." Walter braced himself, a thousand scenarios running through his head.
"We think he may have blackmailed a Guatemalan midwife into helping him."
Oh, shit. That had definitely not been one the situations he'd envisaged. "A midwife? Why would he need a midwife?" he asked, the panic roiling inside him creeping into his voice. "Paige isn't due for another three weeks."
"There are some things missing from the kitchen," Sly reported. "Food, towels, hand sanitizer. . . A nurse told me one of the medical supply closets had been ransacked but they won't know what's missing until they do an inventory."
"Wonder what he took and why." A niggling suspicion of Mark's intentions formed in his mind, one which was too disturbing to even acknowledge.
"This is Collins we're talking about here," said Toby.
"Who the hell knows what he's thinking with that fucked up brain of his. Just go find Paige and the baby, all right, moron?" Happy's belligerent tone couldn't quite hide her underlying concern.
"Okay. I'm going now," he said as he headed back to his car. "Go back to the garage and help Cabe with Ralph."
"Like hell," said the mechanic. "We're going to the farm."
"No," he stated emphatically as he slid behind the wheel. "I have to do this alone."
"No you don't," Toby contradicted. "Collins said no law enforcement. We're not LE. Ergo. . ."
"And if Collins. . . If he hurts her. . ." Pressing his hand to his chest, he struggled for air. "I can't. . . I won't risk it."
"Fine," growled Happy. "But you better call us if you need help. Okay, dumbass?"
"Okay." Walter ended the call before starting the engine and peeling out of the cul-de-sac.
ooooo
Toby glanced over at the mechanic. "We're not going back to the garage, are we?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.
"Nope." Happy turned off the computer. "We're going to the farm."
"Walter is going to be mad," Sylvester warned as he bounced anxiously from foot to foot.
"Let him be mad," she said. "I'd rather he be pissed off at us than face the wreck he'll become if anything happens to Paige or that baby."
She rested her hand on the slight bump of her stomach and Toby's heart beat a little faster. She had a valid point. He knew he would go nuts if something bad he could have prevented ever happened to her or Quintus Junior. Walter with his god complex. . . It wouldn't be pretty.
"Let's get going then," he said. "The sun's gonna set soon."
"What's the matter? You afraid of the dark?" Happy teased as they exited the computer lab.
"It's a scientific fact things are harder to find in the dark," said Sly.
"Plus you are afraid of the dark," Toby declared.
"Shut up, numbnuts." The mechanic shot him a dirty look. "You're both right though. We need to help Walter find Paige and that's going to be a lot easier to do while it's still light outside. So let's get moving."
She stalked off ahead toward the parking lot where they'd left her truck. The shrink glanced at the human calculator before they both hustled after her.
ooooo
"We should have heard something by now," Ralph said as he took the final bite of his Chucky Burger. After chewing and swallowing, he continued, "An update, a ransom demand. . . Something." Fishing around in the bag for his last French fry, he dipped it in ketchup and shoved it in his mouth as he waited for Cabe's reply.
"I'm just as worried as you are, son." The agent crumpled up his empty burger wrapper. "They'll let us know when they have something to tell us."
"Sure." He needed more than reassurances. He needed as much information as possible, so he could devise a plan to rescue his mom. . .and his brother. Most of what he knew about Mark Collins came from bits and pieces of conversations which abruptly came to a halt whenever he tried to listen. Walter had said the least about the former Scorpion team member. Which was odd because from what Ralph had gathered, he had been the one closest to Collins.
"What I don't understand is why Collins would kidnap my mom in the first place," Ralph said, eyeing the older man to gauge his reaction. "It's been what? Five hours? And he hasn't made any demands or asked for a ransom. This isn't just an ordinary kidnapping, is it? He wants to get back at Walter, doesn't he?"
Cabe's mouth dropped open for a second. "I keep forgetting how smart you are," he said with a shake of his head. "Damn, if you aren't just like Walter when he was your age." He sighed wearily before explaining Collins' history with Scorpion and how it had ended with Walter committing his ex-friend to a mental institution.
Ralph nodded as the narrative matched what he'd patched together. "So that's why Mom gets upset when I get lost in a project. She's worried I fall down into a rabbit hole like Walter and Collins did."
"For good reason," said the agent. "Days without food, without sleep. . . You're still a growing boy."
"True," he replied absently as he contemplated what he'd learned.
"You got any homework?" Cabe asked as he stood up and starting gathering up the remains of their fast food dinner.
"Yeah, a 500 word essay for English that's due tomorrow about some guy named Whitman who wrote poems about leaves and grass. It's almost done," he lied as he'd barely started it. Poetry was so lame.
"Well, you better get it done." the Homeland agent said as he went to throw their soda cups into the trash.
With a sigh, Ralph retrieved his backpack, took out his laptop and set it up on his mother's desk. He had just found the file for his stupid essay when the garage door creaked opened and two people walked inside, the woman who was the campaign manager for Sylvester's opponent in the alderman race and. . .a girl.
Every thought was driven from his head as she came closer. She had to be just few years older than he was. Her dark hair was in two bound braids which bounced as she walked. Her eyes were also dark and intelligent and full of determination. And she was the most fascinating girl he'd ever seen in his life.
"Ms Jones," Cabe was saying to the older woman. "What can I do for you?"
Ralph tore his gaze away from the girl long enough to scrutinize the interaction between the agent and Ms Jones. He could tell Cabe liked her. And she liked him. Filing this information in his head, he recommenced staring at the girl.
"Patty told me what happened," the woman said. "About. . ." Her words trailed off as she glanced in Ralph's direction. "They haven't found her yet?"
Patty. Her name was Patty. He wondered if it was a nickname and if her name was actually Patricia or Patrice.
". . .nice enough to invite to her baby shower. Is there anything I can do to help?" Ms Jones asked, intruding on his wayward thoughts..
"I don't know what it would be," said the agent. "We're waiting to hear from the others."
"Oh, okay." The older woman seemed disappointed. Cabe obviously wasn't picking up she wanted to hang out with him. Ralph shook his head. Adults could be so clueless sometimes.
"So Paige is your mom?"
He nearly jumped out of his chair at the sound of Patty's voice. "Uh, yeah," he managed to squeak out, his eyes darting everywhere but her face. "I'm. . .I'm R-Ralph."
"Nice to meet you, Ralph," she said briskly. "I'm Patty Logan, reporter for the West Altadenia Shopper. I met your mom earlier today when I came to interview Sylvester. I hope she's going to be okay."
"Me, too." He hoped Patty wouldn't notice his shallow breathing and the perspiration sprouting from his forehead and other more embarrassing areas of his body.
"Whatcha working on?" She peered around at his computer screen. "Walt Whitman? I love his poetry. Leaves of Grass is my favorite."
"Oh, yeah, mine too," Ralph fibbed, aware he was contradicting his earlier statements in an attempt to impress her. "He's great."
He heard Cabe chuckle and glanced over at the older man, who winked at him with a knowing smirk on his face before resuming his chat with Ms Jones. Relief filled Ralph as he realized the agent wasn't going to rat him out.
That feeling didn't last long as Patty dragged a chair over to sit next to him. "Is it all right if I help?" she asked. Then she smiled at him.
All he could do was nod as every thought, every worry, was driven from his head. Oh, boy.
ooooo
Monday, October 3, 2016, 7:28 PM
A last bit of daylight lingered in the sky as Walter stopped in front of an archway declaring the land beyond it to be Ponder Creek Farm. 'For sale' signs were posted on each side of the arch. In the gathering darkness, he could just make out a few buildings in the distance.
Paige and their baby could possibly be down at the end of the driveway. And Collins. He couldn't forget the rage the other man had displayed the day he'd learned Paige was pregnant and the baby was Walter's. . . He should have known Mark would try to extract some sort of retribution for what the other man would have seen as the ultimate betrayal.
He didn't know what he would find, if anything, and he disliked the uncertainty as much as he disliked not having all the facts. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Walter lifted his foot from the brake and hit the gas.
It seemed like hours as his car bumped along the rutted road before he finally reached the farmhouse and outbuildings, although according to the dashboard clock only seven minutes had passed. He came to a halt under a sputtering sodium light on a pole situated between the house and a garage.
The farmhouse looked deserted with its boarded up windows and planks nailed across the front door. He didn't see any other vehicles other than a rusted tractor parked next to the garage. If Collins was actually there, he wasn't making his presence obvious.
The small scrap of optimism he'd been clinging to beginning to dissipate, Walter exited his Malibu and surveyed his surroundings. With an exasperated sigh, he decided to inspect the house first, futile as it probably would be.
He'd barely set his foot on the bottom porch step when a strange noise emanated from somewhere behind him. Spinning around, he didn't see anything but the barn on the other side of the driveway. A shiver ran down his spine as he heard the noise again, a little louder this time and sounding like the cry of a wounded animal. . .or of a pregnant woman being tortured.
His heart threatened to beat out of his chest as he sprinted to the barn, the gravel crunching under his feet nearly deafening him. Reaching a small side door, he yanked it open and peered into the dark interior, the only light a bright glow at the other end of the building.
Walter stepped inside and came to an immediate halt when something soft was pressed firmly over the lower half of his face. A sweet odor filled his mouth and nose as he struggled for air. The glow in the distance began to dim. His legs turned to jelly and he started to sink downward. A familiar chuckle was the last thing he heard before everything went dark.