Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
Chapter 18: The Moon and the Star - Perturbations
The mission exacts a heavy toll on the team, and they must learn how to adjust and move on. Mitch's past rears its head as he is reunited with Jamie.
"Okay, that can't be good." Mitch winced as the alarm siren blared. Suddenly, breaking into General Davies' party didn't feel like such a great idea. It had all sounded so good in the safety of their plane, but after encountering one obstacle after another Mitch was beginning to wonder if there hadn't been a better way to go about all of this.
"We have to go," Jackson turned from where Mitch was drawing blood from the earthquake-causing sloth and bolted for the door. No doubt he was worried about the girls, who had split off moments before in search of the TX gas that would be used by the Noah Objective to kill off the animals. Still, Mitch grumbled as his extra set of hands disappeared and he had to finish with the still-groggy sloth on his own.
"Who sounded the alarm?" Abe asked from his lookout vantage point as his friend raced back down the corridor.
"I don't know," Mitch turned the corner just behind him, "but my money's on Davies."
Jackson turned his head to shout over his shoulder as he ran. "Whoever it was, we need to get the girls and get back to the plane."
They rounded the last corner expecting to see Chloe and Dariela sprinting toward them. They were met instead with a sealed door.
"What the…?
"Contamination detected." The automated voice reminded Mitch of the computer from Spaceballs, though it was doubtful that piece of information was helpful right now.
"Contamination?" Abe repeated. "What contamination?"
"The gas," Mitch guessed. "Someone must have released it inside the building."
"We need to find another way around." Jackson turned and pushed past the other two. "Come on."
They took a few wrong turns, but eventually they came to a series of concrete tunnels that ran under the building. No doubt they led to some sort of loading dock; Mitch just hoped they connected to the other set of halls as well.
"Chloe!" It was muffled by distance, but it was clearly Dariela's panicked voice. "Chloe!"
Mitch's heart froze for a moment as they all skidded to a stop. Dariela was standing on their side of an emergency quarantine door with a distraught grimace on her face. Chloe was lying semi-conscious on the other side.
"Warning," the automated voice intoned again, "Contamination detected. Air purification initiated."
Jackson was pressed against the door, banging against it in a futile attempt to get to Chloe. She was gasping, and her face was flushed. Mitch ran through the list of symptoms of airborne chemical poisoning almost clinically despite the panic rising in him.
"Air purification complete." Something clicked and Dariela slammed the now green door lock button. Jackson didn't even wait for the door to open fully. He jumped through and knelt at Chloe's side.
Her eyes were wide and unfocused, and Mitch realized she hadn't been gasping earlier; she wasn't breathing at all.
No, no, no, no. He knelt over her to be sure, hovering his cheek over her mouth. "Come on," he growled, pinching her nose and giving her body some much-needed oxygen. Her gaze slid away from Jackson to him, and her mouth moved to form words he couldn't understand. "Straighten out her legs," he directed quickly before giving her another breath. "Come on, Chloe."
Jackson was whispering encouragements as they worked to get her breathing again. Mitch could hear the heartbreak in his voice and felt a pang of sympathy.
"Come on," Mitch muttered again. "Breathe!"
She did. It was a stuttering, choking breath, but it was a breath.
"Thank god," Jackson leaned down and kissed her forehead.
"This way," a faint voice ordered, and they all glanced up sharply. Davies' goons were coming.
Jackson slipped his arms under Chloe. "We gotta get her outta here."
Mitch moved to her legs and lifted her up. It was awkward for both of them, and there was no way they were outrunning a squad of military men carrying her like this.
"Give her to me," Abe offered, holding his arms out. They transferred Chloe's slight frame to him, and he nodded once he had a firm grip.
Dariela led them to an out of the way, unused door near the loading dock. Davies was so sure they were trapped in the lower levels that he hadn't posted guards outside yet. Mitch was grateful for big egos and small miracles.
Once in the vehicle, Jackson cradled Chloe against him as Abe raced back to the plane. "She's breathing weird," he pointed out, and Mitch reached over to check.
"Her heart's racing," he confirmed, "and those breaths are too shallow. How long, Abe?"
"Five minutes!" Abe yanked the wheel hard to the right and they all braced against inertia as they skidded around the turn. Davies hadn't found the plane yet, and the tires squealed as Abe parked them rather forcefully in the vehicle bay.
"Get us in the air," Mitch barked at Dariela as he and Jackson worked to get Chloe out of the car. Jackson lifted her up into his arms easily, like she weighed nothing, and Mitch hoped it was adrenaline and not his mutation giving him the extra strength. He could only deal with one crisis at a time, thank you very much.
Jackson laid her on the exam table in the lab as Mitch hooked up the oxygen mask. Abe hovered worriedly just out of arm's reach, ready to help if Mitch needed him.
"You got this," Jackson whispered to her unconscious form. "You're doing great." He accepted the mask from Mitch and placed it over her mouth and nose. "You're good."
"Trotter's preparing for takeoff," Dariela reported in an efficient clipped tone. "He said someone's been trying to contact us on the plane's secure channel."
"Don't answer," Abe told her. "Secure or not, we can't risk letting Davies know where we are."
Jackson glanced up from Chloe and glared at Dariela. "Leave," he hissed.
"What?"
"Abe, get her out of here," Jackson changed targets.
Abe didn't understand. "Rafiki -"
"Get her out of here, Abe!" Jackson roared.
"Come on," Abe wisely heeded Jackson's warning. "Let's go help Trotter."
Mitch didn't have time to worry about Jackson's sudden bout of rage. Chloe bucked on the table, and the heart monitor he'd connected to her didn't look good. He turned to grab a syringe as Jackson pleaded with her to stay with them.
"What is that?" Jackson asked as Mitch turned back with the needle.
"Adrenaline." Mitch plunged it into her thigh and pressed the solution into her system. She responded immediately. Her eyes opened and she began speaking again, only time she had air to speak.
"What?" Jackson moved the mask as she gasped one word.
"Jamie."
It wasn't the word Mitch had been expecting, and for a moment everything around him stopped. "Did you find Jamie?" She'd been repurposing a satellite for that very task, though how she expected to find one woman in the middle of New Brunswick was anyone's guess. "Do you know...do you know where she is?"
She whispered something unintelligible, and Mitch leaned in to hear her better. "Cara...Caraquet."
"Jamie's in Caraquet?" Jackson clarified, and Chloe nodded. Then she tried for another word.
"Cour...Courier."
"Courier?" he ran his fingers down her face in a loving caress. "What's a 'courier' baby? What do you mean 'courier?'" But Chloe didn't answer him. Her monitor began beeping furiously, then just as suddenly it flatlined. Jackson lost it. "Come on, stay with me! You were doing good!"
"Move," Mitch ordered, physically shoving Jackson out of the way so he could hop up on the table. He straddled her prone form and began proper CPR, pressing for a count of thirty before leaning down to give her two breaths. There was no response, so he did it again.
"Come on," he begged. "Come on, Chloe. Don't die." Other than Jamie, Chloe had been the only one on the team who had managed to worm her way beneath his armor. She was closest friend he had - the only who really gave a damn about him after they'd lost Jamie - and waking up in a world without Chloe Tousignant was not something Mitch wanted to experience.
"Dammit, come on!" They couldn't lose Chloe, not now. Not when they were so close to finally having the family back together. "Breathe, dammit!" He counted another thirty compressions, ignoring the crack of her ribs beneath his palms. One, two, three, four...
"Mitch."
...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…
"Mitch!"
...twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…
"Mitch, stop!"
Jackson grabbed at Mitch's arms, but Mitch shoved him off. "No!" He leaned down for two more breaths, knowing as he gave them that it was no use. She was gone.
"Mitch," Jackson was crying now, and his voice trembled as he gently pried the other man's hands away. "Let her go, Mitch."
He crawled off the table in disbelief, staggering back into the counter. Chloe was dead. Jackson was leaning over her body murmuring words he couldn't hear. He was glad for it.
"I'm sorry," Mitch whispered, though he wasn't sure if he was apologizing to Jackson or to Chloe. He supposed it was probably both.
"It's not...it's not your fault," Jackson glanced up. "There was nothing you could do."
Nothing I can do. He'd spoken those words before to families, to patients themselves. They had always sounded trite to his ears, like he was absolving himself rather than offering comfort. They offered him no solace now.
Another muttered apology tumbled from his lips as he raced for his living quarters. He barely made it to the bathroom in time as bile reached the back of his throat. He coughed and gagged, spitting up whatever had been left in his stomach from the night before. The tears came soon after, and as his stomach heaved again he sobbed.
Mitch didn't know how long he had been kneeling on the bathroom floor, but the light creeping through the window told him the sun was beginning to rise. His entire body ached when he tried to stand, and he pressed his palm against his forehead to stave off the worst of his pain. His other hand fumbled for the shower faucet, and he cranked it to the hot side before stripping down.
The water sluiced off of his body as he hunched forward, bracing against the front wall of the shower stall. They weren't large - maybe four feet on a side - but it had good water pressure and never seemed to run out of hot water. As he stood under the spray, the pounding in his head began to recede. There were things that needed to be taken care of, arrangements to be made. Someone would need to call Chloe's sister and notify her. Someone would need to take charge of their mission. Mitch ran through their list of possibles and didn't like his chances. Jackson was halfway to mutantville, so he was a no go. Abe's decision making skills in tense situations were questionable at best, and there was no way in hell Mitch was taking orders from GI Jane. That left one person.
Jamie!
In the chaos of the moment he'd forgotten completely about Chloe's final message - one of them, at least. She'd found Jamie in Caraquet. He shut off the water and stepped onto the dark bath rug. The cool air made him shiver, and he dried off quickly before throwing a robe on.
"Trotter," he keyed the intercom by his door and waited for the pilot's go ahead. "Set a course for Caraquet."
"Roger that, Doctor Morgan. Setting course for Caraquet." There was a pause, then, "Our flight path looks clear, almost nine hours on the dot. Closest airport we can land at is Bathurst. You'll have to drive the forty miles or so into Caraquet proper."
Finally, Mitch thought, we're going to get Jamie.
He managed to fall asleep half an hour later with the help of Jameson, planning to get up when they landed in New Brunswick.
The plane lurched and he woke, his body instantly thrumming with energy at the thought of seeing Jamie again. It was better than coffee. But then they began descending rapidly - much more abruptly than Trotter normally handled the plane - and Mitch knew something was wrong. He reached for his glasses carelessly discarded on his bedside table and shoved them onto his nose as he reached for the door.
Abe was in the hall already on his way to the common area. Jackson and Dariela were close, but he reached the intercom first. "Trotter!"
"It's not me!" their pilot cried. "Someone else is flying the plane."
"What the hell does that mean?" Mitch wondered aloud.
"It must be Davies," Abe answered.
"Well, how?"
"He must have hacked our plane." If that wasn't a strike against the technical revolution, Mitch didn't know what was. There was a metallic whir, then a dull thunk, and the four of them shared worried glances.
"That's the landing gear coming down," Abe warned.
"Everyone strap in," Trotter's voice carried over the speaker. "We're landing whether we like it or not."
As landings went, it wasn't the smoothest they'd ever had. Mitch groaned at the jarring impact, grateful for the belt that held him in his seat. Dariela was the first to unbuckle.
"Come on," she told them. "We need to be ready."
"Ready for what?" Mitch unbuckled as well, but didn't stand.
"For when Davies and his men come busting through that door," she shot back hotly. "Feel free to sit here and do nothing; I'm not going out like that."
"I don't wanna go out at all," Mitch grumbled, but followed her anyway. It was hard to balance with the plane taxiing down the runway, but they managed. Dariela peeked out the window as they slowed.
"There nobody out there," Mitch glanced out the window next to the main hatch. "We're almost at the end of the runway."
Dariela came up to them with handfuls of the stuffing from the couch cushions and pushed pieces at each of them. "Stuff this in your ears and cover your eyes when they breach," she directed.
Mitch looked down at the wadded up cotton in his hand. "Why?"
"Flash bangs," she handed the last of it to Abe and went to take up a position. "Two through the door, then they come in shooting. That's what I would do." She stuffed her own cotton into her ears and glanced at Mitch. "Flank the door," she told him and Jackson. "Get behind cover now."
Mitch ran to the corridor with the handgun Abe had given him and angled so just the gun and his right eye were peeking out. Jackson and Abe had each posted up on the other side of the door as Dariela took the main position in front. Whoever was coming through was going to meet her and her rifle first. Mitch pitied them, but only a little.
A shadow crossed in front of the porthole and the door handle slid away loudly. Mitch held his breath and took aim.
"Hit 'em as soon as they come through that door," Dariela ordered as the it opened. "Don't let 'em hit first."
"Hold your fire! Please don't shoot," the woman stepped across the threshold with her hands up. Mitch was tempted to shoot her anyway. She glanced at him and hit him with a look he hadn't seen in twelve years. "That goes double for you."
Mitch tried to think of anything worse than having his ex-girlfriend/stepmother - who was now the Deputy Secretary of Defense - standing in front of him barking orders. He thought maybe the looks the others were shooting him from across the room were pretty bad (though they had no idea he and Allison Shaw had once been an item), but still nothing compared to the sting seeing her had brought.
"Why now, Allison?" Mitch demanded after they'd gathered in the lab and Allison had introduced herself. "What do you want with us? Why'd you bring us here?" He didn't even know where "here" was, but he knew it wasn't Caraquet.
"With Amelia and Eleanor gone, there's fewer of us left," she began. "We need to work together. We have to." Mitch knew that tone. She was appealing to their better natures, but Mitch wasn't buying it and he made sure the others could see the disgust on his face. Allison didn't notice - or chose to ignore it - and went on. "My family owns the largest orchard on the West Coast, and our trees are all dying. I need your help to stop it."
Jackson held up his hand to interject. "You just said you work for the Pentagon, so why would you need our help?"
"Because the government can't know anything about this." There's the other shoe. "If Davies finds out that our food source is threatened, he'll use it to leverage additional resources to the Noah Objective." Her reasoning was sound, and it pissed Mitch off. "You're the only ones I can trust."
No, Mitch shook his head. There was no way in hell she was going to keep them another moment longer. "So," he made sure everyone heard the derision in his tone, "Chloe's dead, Jamie's in some Canadian -"
"Wait, Chloe's dead?" Allison cut him off. "What happened?"
There was a sorrowful silence, and neither Mitch nor Jackson could answer. Abe did it for them. "We disrupted General Davies' event in Vancouver and…" He couldn't seem to say it either.
"I"m sorry," Allison seemed generally upset.
"Can you just back that up for a second?" Jackson's voice was heavy as he spoke. "You knew Chloe?"
Allison nodded. "She and Eleanor were the only ones who knew that I was behind your team. I've been secretly working against Davies, trying to find an alternative to the Noah Objective."
"Then let us go find that alternative," Jackson reasoned, "because that's what Chloe wanted."
"Please," Allison begged. Mitch thought she almost sounded sincere. "I need you to come with me to my orchard."
Mitch had had enough of her speeches. "We're not going anywhere with you. You can keep your stupid plane," his hands shook as he set the handgun he was holding on the table. No need to do something stupid. "We'll find another way to get to Jamie and find a cure."
Mitch was surprised when Dariela of all people stepped into his corner. "What he said."
"Did Chloe ever mention 'The Courier?'" There it was. Allison had always been a master manipulator, even back then. He supposed he should have seen a political career coming; she was good at getting her way one way or another. Her appeals hadn't worked, so now she was leveraging information.
"Yeah, she did," Jackson took the bait. "What the hell do you know?"
"You save my family's orchard and this plane is yours, no strings attached. And I'll tell you everything."
Mitch's fists clenched as the anger and rage of her betrayal twelve years ago bubbled up to the surface. He turned with a sneer on his face, and Dariela stepped back out of his way as he closed the distance between him and Allison in three long strides.
"I don't give a damn about your family's orchard! I don't even care a whole lot about the world right now." He was seething now, and Allison's eyes were wide under the force of his tirade. "There's only one person I care about, and we're going to get her." Then, to show he could be just as magnanimous as she could, he added, "Once Jamie is safe and on this plane, I'll go wherever you want."
"Eleanor said you were persistent," she stared at him with a look he couldn't decipher, like she was a kid being denied a piece of candy before dinner. It unsettled him and he had to force himself not to take a step back. "Fine," she relented. "We'll go get Miss Campbell first, but then we're going to California."
With the time change and their little detour, it was almost twilight when they landed in Bathurst, Canada. Mitch had stayed as far from Allison as he could for the duration of the trip, instead spending his time devouring every map of the forty miles between their landing strip and the small town of Caraquet. He planned the shortest route and double checked it. He even ran it by Dariela, who agreed it was the best way to go.
"You think that's necessary?" Allison glared at the automatic rifle that Dariela stowed safely as they piled into the Hummer upon landing. Mitch was behind the wheel, having settled the discussion of who was driving before Abe could even volunteer.
"Lady, you ain't seen what we've seen," Dariela double checked her rounds and slammed the door. Abe was in front of her riding shotgun, leaving Jackson to climb in behind Mitch. None of them liked leaving Allison alone with the plane, but Mitch liked bringing her along even less. She needed them - she'd said as much herself - so they were relatively confident she wouldn't strand them in the middle of Canada.
"How long will it take to get there?" Abe asked as Mitch reversed down the ramp. Once on level ground, he shifted into drive and floored it. The others braced against the frame as they went careening down the road.
Mitch's eyes didn't leave the road as he cracked a small smile. "Not long."
Mitch ate up the forty miles in less than half an hour, and as they neared Caraquet they all saw the plumes of smoke rising against the backdrop of fires dotting the landscape. For half a heartbeat Mitch feared they were too late, but then Jackson tapped him on the shoulder and gestured to a small area off to the left. There were lights, and where there were lights there were people.
"Where the hell is everyone?" Abe and Dariela had jumped out to open the fence, the latter covering the former as he held the chain link back enough for Mitch to ease the Hummer through. Once the fence was secured Mitch took them into what must have once been a very quaint little town. The weather beaten sign gave the population at just over 4,000, but Mitch would bet money there were fewer now. All around them the buildings showed signs of people, but there was no one in sight.
"Maybe they're all sleeping?" Abe offered unhelpfully.
"Over there," Dariela leaned forward and pointed over Mitch's shoulder to a structure in the center of town. Two men stood outside, and their posture was one of guard rather than lookout. "That's odd."
"Let's go say hi," Mitch parked rather close to the building, and the two men bristled and moved forward to challenge them. They were met rather quickly with Dariela and her rifle.
"Nice and easy, boys. Hands." They complied. "Good."
"We're looking for someone," Mitch took control of the situation quickly. "A young woman, about so tall," he held his hand palm down around his shoulder height, "red hair. She may have come in a few days ago. Seen her?"
The two men said nothing, but a look passed between them that Mitch didn't miss. He was about to switch from inquiring visitor to demanding stranger, but a sound reverberated from within the building, as though a large number of people all spoke at once. Without another word he pushed past the men and shoved the double doors in.
It was a town gathering, and as he entered a group of people at the front of the congregation looked up sharply. But Mitch wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been immediately drawn to the woman standing just off the side, her red hair disheveled and her face marred by a bruises and scrapes. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"Oh my God," she breathed, and Jamie took a step toward him. Or at least she tried to. The man behind her had an iron grip on her arm, keeping her firmly in place.
"You're gonna want to let her go," Mitch's voice was deadly calm as Dariela came up beside him with her rifle to bear. "I know for a fact this woman here loves to shoot things."
But Jamie didn't wait for her captor to comply. With a fierce yank she was free and running toward them. Mitch met her halfway as she slammed against him solid and firm.
"You're here," she mumbled into his shoulder. "You're here." Her fingers were clutching at his back greedily, as though she was afraid he would slip away if she loosened her grip even a little.
"I'm here," he reassured her, running his hands over her shoulders and down her back before crushing her against him. "I'm here." As much as he wanted to hold her forever, he needed to make sure she was really okay. He gently pushed her back and let his eyes rake over her body. She was thin - too thin - but it wasn't anything a few good meals couldn't fix. What worried him more was the pain in her eyes, the hardness that hadn't been present before the plane crash. Whatever she'd been through out there had affected her deeply.
"What took you so long?" she seemed to be just as busy soaking in the sight of him.
Finally he felt the vice around his heart give way, and he let out a bark of laughter as he gathered her up once more. "Traffic," he joked, earning him a half-hearted chuckle. "You ready to go? I didn't mean to interrupt...whatever this was."
"No," Jamie pushed back and turned to the town's leader with a fierce fury he recognized all too well. There was an injustice here, and she had to correct it. "This is wrong," she spoke to the woman directly now. "What you're doing isn't survival, it's murder."
"What's going on?" Mitch asked.
"They're feeding people to the animals," Jamie never took her eyes off the town council, staring them down with a reproachful glare as she spoke.
"They're what?" Dariela spoke for the first time since her entrance. Her rifle was still held up and ready, but luckily the townsfolk were giving her plenty of space.
"It's true," a man from the crowd stepped forward. He had a slight build and piercing eyes that held the same world-weary look that Jamie's did. When he came to a stop beside her, Mitch realized they knew each other. The other man simply nodded once at the newcomers before turning slightly toward Jamie. "Mitch?"
"Yeah," Jamie looked past her new friend to him and smiled. "Told you he'd come."
Hearing her absolute faith in him stoked the fire he'd been stifling for months. He reached for her, and she came. Her hand fit neatly in his, and he let his thumb caress the back of her hand lovingly. "Let's get out of here."
"You can't leave," the woman near the front of the room spoke for the first time, her voice solid and sure. "The vote has already been cast."
Dariela took a step inside toward Mitch and Jamie. "You telling me you sickos actually vote to toss someone out there?"
"Not just someone," Jamie glared at the gathered crowd, and Mitch's hand tightened instinctively.
"You?" he growled.
Jamie nodded. "And Maddie," she gestured at a young girl of maybe seventeen with brown curls and a tear-streaked face.
"That's it," Mitch tugged Jamie back with him toward the door. "Dariela?"
The woman adjusted her hold of the rifle as she stepped up. Jamie resisted slightly until Maddie pulled free of her captor and ran to them. Mitch didn't care if they took half the damn town so long as Jamie got on the plane. The man who had befriended Jamie joined them soon after, and the five of them backed out of the building with Dariela bringing up the rear.
"Jamie!" Jackson and Abe rushed forward to embrace their long-lost friend, and Mitch finally noticed the limp. He didn't get a chance to ask her about it before the two men swept her up in a pair of bear hugs. It was the first time he'd seen her really smile and it was such a beautiful sight he wasn't even annoyed that someone else had put it on her face.
"We need to go," Dariela pointed out as she remained locked steady on the closed doors of the town hall meeting as if she expected the townsfolk to come bursting out any moment.
"No," Jamie was immediately back to righteous fury. "No, we can't leave."
"Jamie - " Jackson didn't understand, "What's going on?"
But Jamie just turned to Mitch with those wide, pleading eyes. "We can't just leave things like this. They're killing people, Mitch."
Mitch glanced heavenward and wondered if he ever really had a chance. "Okay," he agreed, "but what do you want us to do? We can't really arrest anyone, and they won't all fit on the plane."
"The plane?"
"Oh, yeah," he raised one shoulder off-handedly. "We have a plane."
Jamie looked wary; Mitch didn't blame her. The last plane she was on broke apart four miles in the air. "Okay," she said finally. "But the moment we leave, they're just going to vote to throw someone else to the wolves."
"We can tell the Mounties," Dariela offered. "I'm sure if they knew what was going on up here, they'd send a contingent to stop it."
"Meanwhile someone dies," Jamie shook her head sharply. "We need to do something now."
"Okay, but what?" Mitch asked.
"We could take the town leaders with us," Jamie's friend finally spoke up, and Mitch whirled on him.
"I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Logan," he offered his hand but Mitch didn't take it.
"Charmed," he drawled. "And no, junior, we can't. There's not enough room in our Hummer for them. I'm not entirely sure there's enough room for you."
"Mitch!" Jamie frowned at him. "We're not leaving anyone behind."
"We don't have to." It was Maddie who spoke this time. The group turned to the young woman expectantly. "I mean, the feeding doesn't happen until after sunrise," she said. "We can tell the Mounties and have them here before the feeding begins."
Mitch glanced at Jamie to see what she thought of that plan. She wasn't happy about it, but it seemed to be the best solution. He caught her eye and asked the question without saying a word.
"Fine," she agreed. "But we go now." She spun around quickly, ready to march to the still-running Hummer, but just as suddenly she faltered and Mitch barely managed to catch her before she fell. Her face was contorted in pain and she leaned heavily against him as she lifted her right foot off the ground.
"Maddie and I can get the Mounties," Logan suggested. "You need to get that foot taken care of. I'm sure there's a working car around here somewhere."
"I have the keys to my mom's truck," Maddie said. "They're in my bag." She glanced back over the compound at a smaller building that obviously housed the residents of Caraquet.
Jackson was obviously as tired as Mitch was of standing around. "Alright, Dariela, you take Logan and Maddie and get the Mounties. We'll take Jamie back to the plane and meet you there when you're done."
Dariela didn't look too happy about taking orders from Jackson, but she nodded anyway. "Let's go."
Mitch was still busy keeping Jamie upright, and when she finally looked up from her grimace of pain he took a deep breath. "What happened?"
"Tell you in the car?" she whimpered, and tried again to take a step toward the vehicle. But her foot, whatever was wrong with it, simply wouldn't hold her any longer. Mitch slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders before lifting her up. He expected a crack about heroism or even a slap on the shoulder for his presumptuousness, but neither came. He didn't know if it was the pain or simply the enormity of the last week's ordeal, but Jamie was silent as he carried her to the Hummer and set her in the backseat.
Jackson and Abe got in the front as Dariela disappeared around a corner with Maddie and Logan. Jamie scooted back enough for Mitch to get in, but the moment he was seated she was back against his side. He really wanted to take a look at her foot, but the backseat of a bouncing vehicle was likely not the best place for an examination. Instead he slipped an arm around her shoulders and let her rest against him as she told them about her journey.
It was almost impossible to believe. By the time they reached the plane Mitch was very nearly in tears. When they parked in the vehicle bay he was the first one out, ready to pull her to the lab and examine every inch of her. She supported her weight on her good foot as she stepped out of the Hummer, but Mitch's hand was around her arm anyway.
"I can't wait for a proper shower," she sighed. "Where's Chloe? I may need to borrow some clothes."
There was a pause, and Mitch lifted his eyes to the other two and asked silently who was going to break the news. Jackson's face was blank, but Mitch had seen enough masked agony to recognize it. Abe seemed to hesitate as well, and Mitch understood his pointed stare: Mitch was the best person for the job.
"Jamie," he began.
"What?" She finally sensed something was wrong, and it didn't take her long after to realize what they weren't saying. Her hand flew to her mouth and she swayed as tears welled in her eyes. Mitch reached out to steady her as well as offer some comfort. "How?"
"I'll tell you the story while I check you out," Mitch gestured for the door. "The lab's this way."
But she didn't budge. "Can we...I'd rather not be examined like a lab rat," she said finally. The others quietly excused themselves from the room as Mitch's face softened.
"Of course," he rubbed her back. "We can go to my room. I have a shower you can use after I make sure you're alright."
She followed slowly, and Mitch resisted the urge to scoop her up again. She seemed determined to do it by herself, so he let her. He did support most of her weight up the stairs, and when he directed her to his open door she slipped inside and sunk down on the bed gratefully.
Mitch slid the door closed behind him and crouched on the floor in front of her. Their eyes locked for a moment, letting all of the heartache and pain of the last week wash away. Mitch shifted to his knees and raised a hand to her cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped from her eye. Wordlessly she leaned forward and he embraced her gently, letting her head fall to his shoulder as she shuddered in his arms.
Had it been only a week since he'd heard her voice? It seemed like a lifetime since that phone call. They'd both been through so much in such a short time, but finally she was back where she belonged - by his side. He shoved all of the current worries and problems aside and leveled his focus on her and her alone.
"I need to look at you," he murmured after a few moments. He felt her nod against his shoulder and she sat up to wipe her eyes as he carefully unlaced her boots. They worked as a team, and soon enough she was left in loose pants, socks and a t-shirt. Her arms were covered in bruises in various stages of healing, and he seethed at the darkening one on her neck from a man named Mace.
"Any head injuries or large cuts?" He tried to sound clinical, but he probably missed. Still, he felt a little better when she shook her head.
"Just the foot," she indicated her socked feet. "Logan did a good job of cleaning it."
Mitch frowned at the friendly tone of her voice but said nothing. He reached for her right foot, easing the sock from it slowly to keep from hurting her. It didn't really help.
Someone had already wrapped it up, though they'd done a rather poor job of it. Jamie had said something about the town doctor being a urologist, but at least he'd had the sense to keep it covered. Jamie leaned back on her hands as he carefully unwound the bandage. The space where her toe should have been was red and raw, and Mitch couldn't stifle the hiss of sympathetic pain that escaped him.
"Jesus, Jamie," he breathed. "You walked on this?"
"Had to," she shot back. "I wasn't exactly anywhere I could just stay put and rest."
"I'm going to need some stuff from the lab," he told her. "Why don't you lie down while I go get it?"
"If I lie down, I'm gonna pass out," she gave him a humorless smile.
"Okay," he stood and walked to the door, hesitating only a moment at the threshold.
"Go on," she pushed. "I'll still be here when you get back."
It was his turn to smile, trying to convey reassurance and comfort through the gesture. Abe and Jackson were waiting in the lab when he arrived, but he mostly ignored them as he gathered everything he needed.
"How is she?" Abe asked.
"Hurt," Mitch responded curtly. "And tired. I need to get her patched up and showered before she passes out."
"Dariela called," Jackson spoke up. "She said they spoke to the Mounties. Maddie went with them back to Caraquet and they're on their way back."
"They?" Mitch looked up.
"Her and Logan," Jackson shrugged. "Said Jamie said something about taking him someplace?"
Mitch didn't have time to grumble about that; as long as the boy stayed out of his way, he could tag along until they reached something resembling civilization. Maybe he could get lucky and kick both Allison and Logan off the plane in California.
"Take care of her," Abe called after him as he slipped out of the lab with his bag of supplies. He waved once, as if to say got it handled and don't need to be told that, thanks.
Jamie was indeed waiting when he returned, still sitting on the bed where he'd left her. She was inspecting her right foot closely, and as he walked in Mitch saw the sadness on her face.
"Okay," he sat down on the edge and patted his lap. She adjusted her position on the bed and laid her legs across the towel he placed on his. "I've got a local anesthetic," he told her. "But it's gonna hurt a little at first."
"Worse than having my toe chopped off with an axe?" she asked smartly.
"Fair enough," he conceded. "Here we go."
She jumped a little when the needle slid into her skin, but she didn't cry out. He gave the numbing agent some time to work and reached for his phone. Jamie watched his movements as he tapped a few buttons then held it up to his ear.
It rang four times before someone picked up. "Hello?" She sounded groggy, like he'd woken her, but he knew she wouldn't mind.
Mitch couldn't help the ear-to-ear grin that split his face. "Hey, it's me," he said, purposefully ignoring Jamie's rather insistent stare. "I've got someone here for you." He held the phone out to Jamie, and as she took with unsure fingers he just smiled and nodded.
He watched Jamie face as she slowly lifted the phone to her ear. "Hello?" The effect was immediate, and her hand reached out to grip his tightly as she began crying again. This time, though, they were happy tears. "Aunt Fran? Oh my god."
Mitch could hear Fran's squeal of delighted surprise and winced in sympathy for Jamie's eardrums. Neither woman seemed to mind, and as Jamie spluttered through a tearful conversation with her aunt he turned his attention back to her foot. He tested its sensation with the syringe and glanced up at her in question. When she shook her head negative he got to work, cutting away the sharp edges of the wound and any infected tissue. The bone of her metatarsal wasn't damaged, and he managed to get enough skin to work with that he could stitch the wound closed without cutting into healthy tissue. Jamie watched the entire time, her eyes never wavering as she reassured her aunt that she was okay and that she would come home just as soon as possible.
She pressed the red button and set the phone on the nightstand as Mitch continued to work. "Thank you," she said after a moment, and Mitch just hummed in response. "She said you stayed with them for a while?"
"I did," he nodded. "After the crash, after you...died," he forced the word past his lips, "things were different. Jackson and Chloe threw themselves into the work, but I couldn't. I drove out to Louisiana to tell your family what had happened, and somehow I ended up staying a while."
Jamie laughed then, her eyes still shining with tears. "Yeah, Aunt Fran can be persuasive."
"I called her after you called me last week to let her know…"
"That I wasn't dead?" Jamie finished.
"Right," he concentrated on the stitches he was sewing into her foot, but he could feel the intensity of her stare on him. "Anyway, I told her I'd call her when we found you, I just figured you probably wanted to talk to her, too."
"Yeah," Jamie sniffed wetly. "She said to tell you hello. And thank you." Mitch didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. "Mitch?" Her tone changed, and he knew what was coming next. "Chloe?"
As he finished up he told her about Chloe, about how they had stolen the gas but Davies men had found them before they could get out. When he reached the part about Dariela and the quarantine button he hesitated.
"I know it's been almost six months, but I can still see when you're not telling me something."
He gave a chuckle at that, but sobered up as he continued the story. "Dariela sealed the door," he said. "Trapped the gas inside. Well, the gas...and Chloe."
"So this Dariela killed my friend?"
It was weird, the visceral response to defend Dariela, but he bit down on it and focused on Jamie. She was angry, upset, confused - trying to catch up on seven months of what amounted to hell for the rest of them was a lot. She needed time.
"Alright," he said finally, giving her a shot of antibiotic just in case. "I think that's it. It's gonna scar, but you'll keep the foot." The towel was a bloody mess, but he'd folded it enough times to keep it from soaking through to his pants. He gathered it up and tossed it into a bag before snapping his gloves off. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Jamie shook her head and eased her foot back to the floor. She had to grip the dresser to stand, and when she did she winced. "It's hard to walk," she shuffled a bit awkwardly,"but I'll get used to it I suppose." She straightened up and looked toward his bathroom longingly. "I'd like to shower properly. The one at the community center was too short and too cold."
"Yeah," Mitch rocked back on his heels to keep from reaching for her again. "I used a waterproof bandage so you're good to go. I'll just grab you something to change into." He reached for his top dresser but stopped just as he gripped the handle. "Would you like something of Chloe's? Might fit better."
Her gaze had followed his hands, and he saw something in her eyes that gave him hope - desire. "No," she licked her lips and nodded for him to continue. "Whatever you have is fine."
She ended up with a pair of boxers and a UCLA Berkeley shirt that would likely spend a lot of time in his future fantasies. She thanked him and slipped into the bathroom, leaving him to tidy up the mess.
"Before you ask," Mitch cut off Jackson mid-breath as he dumped his impromptu med kit onto the exam table, "she's fine. She needs a shower, a hot meal, and plenty of sleep."
"I could definitely go for all three of those right now," a voice said from behind, and Mitch turned to find Logan stepping through the door with Dariela just behind. "Nice plane."
"Thanks," Mitch drawled. "What's he doing here?"
"Getting a ride," Logan reminded him. "Jamie said you could take me anywhere."
Witty rejoinders about exactly where he could go were interrupted by Allison's sudden arrival. He didn't know where she'd been, but thankfully he hadn't had to introduce her to Jamie just yet. That was a conversation he was not looking forward to, and he wanted to do it in private away from prying ears.
"Is everyone on board?" she asked curtly. "Can we go now?"
"Yes, Allison," Mitch leaned back against the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest. "We can go now."
"Great," she smiled flatly and spun on her heel, "I'll tell Trotter to take off immediately."
"I'll find something to cook," Abe offered. "We're probably all hungry."
With dinner preparations underway and the plane en route to Allison's home, Mitch found himself with nothing to occupy his thoughts. He hated the needy, clingy urge he had to sit outside the bathroom door and wait for Jamie to be done, but it wouldn't subside. Finally he gave in and settled onto his bed with a book he'd borrowed from Dalton.
Two chapters later he came up for air with something niggling at the back of his brain. He forced himself to focus, to suss out the problem and resolve it, but there was nothing out of place. The plane engines hummed steadily as they flew over the continent, the smell of Abe's cooking wafted through the vents, the soft susurrus of the shower -
The shower was still running. How long had she been in there? Twenty minutes? Thirty? Longer?
He stood and rapped his knuckle softly on the door. "Jamie?" No answer. "Jamie, are you alright?" His eyes fell toward the floor and he frowned at the white wisps floating beneath the frame. He laid his palm flat and his frown deepened at the heat under it. "Jamie, I'm coming in."
He slid the door back and coughed at the steam that billowed out. His glasses fogged almost instantly, so he slipped them off his face and set them on the small vanity. Mitch called her name again, raising it to be heard over the sound of the shower, but she still didn't answer. He knew he was bound to be slapped at any moment, but he had to know - had to make sure she was alright.
He found her huddled on the shower floor, pushed back into the corner with her head down and her knees tucked to her chest. She was crying. No, he corrected, she's sobbing.
"Jamie." His heart broke at the sight and he stepped into the hot spray clothes and all, hissing at the near-scalding temperature of the water. "You're alright," he knelt down and began grasping gently at her, coaxing her to his body. "You're safe, Jamie. I've got you." He kissed her wet hair, his arms tightening around her as she began crying in earnest. The rational side of his brain knew she needed this, needed to get it out in the open and deal with it. Still, he hated seeing her like this.
"You're wet," she mumbled into his soaked shirt.
Mitch shrugged. "I'll dry." He kissed her again, letting his lips linger on her brow as his hands framed her face. "Talk to me."
"C-c-cold," she stuttered.
"You've got the shower as hot as it'll go," he told her. "Any hotter and you'll boil."
"I can't get warm," she shivered and tucked herself further into his arms.
"Abe's making dinner," he said. "Let's get you dry and into something warm. After you eat, we'll pile as many blankets on your bed as you need."
She let him help her up, waiting patiently as he reached back to shut the water off. He was dripping from head to toe, and his socks squished inside his shoes as he walked her out into the bathroom proper and draped a towel around her. He left her to change, leaving the door open just a crack as he shucked his soggy jeans, shirt, socks, and shoes into a pile in the corner.
"Do I have a bed?" Her question caught him off guard, and he stumbled into the wall as he fought to pull dry jeans over his damp skin.
"Uh…" It was a good question. Chloe had taken the master, but she obviously didn't need it anymore. Dariela had indeed claimed the room next to his, leaving no space for any extra residents on the plane. Unless she bunked on one of the couches in the lounge, Jamie would have to take Chloe's room. There's another option, his brain reminded him, but he silenced it. She needed time and space to heal properly; his own base desires would have to wait.
"I mean," she came out of the bathroom in his boxers and t-shirt, and it took a moment for his brain to catch up, "can't I just stay in here?"
"Yes, yeah," he stammered and tried not to picture her in his bed. So much for waiting. "I can just...there's a cot down in the lab I can…"
"Mitch," she frowned. "Why are you being weird...er?" She stepped forward and took the robe out of his hands. He watched in rapt fascination as she slipped it on over her shoulders. "Shouldn't you put a shirt on?"
"Huh?" He glanced down and realized he'd only gotten as far as buttoning his fly. Thank god for small favors, at least. "Right, yeah." He found another shirt in his drawer and pulled it on. He then grabbed two pairs of socks and tossed one at her. "Careful with the bandage. Here let me -"
"I walked thirty kilometers on it," she told him sternly. "I think I can manage a sock without help."
"Okay," he changed direction and found his slippers. "Not sure what to do about shoes. These will work for now. We'll get you stocked up in California."
"California?" she looked up from her foot. "Why are we going to California?"
Realizing that he was about to open up an entire buffet of worms, Mitch took a deep breath. "Because we're on our way to help my ex-stepmother's family's orchard."
She blinked a few times before responding. "Okay," she drew out the syllables, "why?"
"Because this is her plane," Mitch explained. "And she's the only ally we have left in our fight against Davies."
"You know what?" Jamie stood and tied the robe around her waist. "You and the boys can explain it all over dinner."
Dinner was a very awkward affair. Jamie sandwiched herself between Mitch and Logan, far from Dariela and Abe at the other end of the table. Allison had posted up at the head of the table on Mitch's left, and from his vantage point across the table he could see the sour expression on Jackson's face at seeing someone else in Chloe's seat.
They ate as they listened to Allison recount the troubles her family's orchard were having. Mitch was intrigued by the glass in the soil, but most of his attention was on the woman next to him. She was picking at her plate absently, running her fork through the pasta dish Abe had crafted. It wasn't a five star meal, but it was better than anything Mitch or Jackson could make.
"Thank you for making dinner, Abe," Jackson tried to lighten the mood and Dariela echoed him, offering a small toast with her glass of water. Jamie stiffened in her seat, and Mitch had to lean back as she abruptly pushed back from the table and stood.
"Excuse me." She limped out of the room quickly, making a beeline for the living quarters. Mitch stood up as well and followed her, trying his best to ignore the stares that followed him. He found her in his room trying to pull the blankets on the bed enough to slip in. Silently he helped her, gathering the comforter up so she could lie down before tucking it around her.
"Okay?" he asked softly. "Need another?" She shook her head and closed her eyes, though he knew she wasn't really trying to sleep. It was more like she was trying to block everything out, and he suddenly felt very helpless. "You want me to go?" He was new to this whole "being clingy" thing, and he didn't much like it. Still, the thought of leaving her alone didn't sit well with him.
"No," she murmured. "You can stay." Then, almost so quietly he couldn't hear, she added, "Please."
He stood and pushed his shoes off, kicking them into the same corner as his sopping wet clothes. Those would need to go in the dryer tomorrow. His dry jeans were next, and he laid those over the back of his chair before climbing into bed. She pushed the blanket back and he took the hint, sliding under it to lie flush against her. She turned into him, letting him pull her almost halfway on top of him as he settled against the pillows. Her left leg was over his and her right foot was tucked against his calf to keep it from moving too much as they slept.
A feeling of completeness settled over Mitch, and he inhaled deeply as she began to drift off. He wanted to stay awake, to watch her like a hawk and reassure himself that she was really here. But he could feel his own exhaustion beginning to tug on him.
"Jamie?" he whispered, waiting for her answering hum before continuing. "I love you."
She was too far gone to respond, but he felt her fingers curl ever so slightly into his chest in answer. It wouldn't be easy - she'd been through an extremely hellish nightmare this last week - but she was strong, and she could get through it.
They woke to Trotter's announcement that they were landing in California. Jamie rolled herself off of his body with a groan and tried to go back to sleep, but the plane began to shake lightly from turbulence and she bolted awake instantly.
"It's alright," he told her. "That happens sometimes when we descend quickly."
She pushed her hair back from her face and swung her legs over the side to rest on the floor. "Do you remember much about…"
"The crash?" he finished for her. "Not really. I remember you," he slid his fingers lightly down her back in a caress, "and something about weird migration patterns. After that? Nothing. Not until I woke up on the hospital boat."
Jamie looked at him for a moment, as though she'd just realized he'd probably been injured, too. "Were you hurt badly?"
"Broken ribs, concussion, torn ligaments...I got lucky." He remembered the harrowing scene of the bodies laid out wall to wall in the ship's infirmary. "Forty seven people died."
"Forty seven?" she repeated.
"Well," he corrected, rising to sit next to her, "forty six." He leaned over to kiss her head. "When I heard your voice over the phone...Jamie, I…"
"I know," she turned in and let her head fall forward against his jaw. "I wasn't sure you had survived until the moment you answered the phone." The plane jerked as they hit the runway, and Jamie's fingers tightened into fists on her knees. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that again," she admitted. "I can't believe you live on a plane now."
"It'll take time, Jamie," he stood and offered a hand to help her up. She didn't take it. "In a few days, once your body is rested, your mind is going to start trying to process everything."
"You a shrink now?" Her tone was biting and Mitch reminded himself not to take offense.
"No," he walked away and grabbed his discarded jeans. "I'm just letting you know -"
"Mitch?" Allison's voice floated through the closed door. "Be ready to go in five."
Jamie raised her eyebrows in question, and Mitch sighed. "Listen, there's something I have to tell you about Allison before -"
"Jamie?" It was Logan this time, and Mitch bit down on the urge to yell at him to go away. Jamie stood and shuffled to the door, sliding it back as Mitch fastened his jeans. Logan's eyes flew past Jamie to the motion, and Mitch saw a flicker of something pass over the younger man's face. Was it anger? Jealousy? Whatever it was he hid it quickly, but not before Mitch had taken note.
"Logan," Jamie prompted, and her friend cleared his throat as he redirected his attention.
"Uh, I just wanted to see if you were going with everyone or if you wanted to stay here on the plane."
"Oh, I'm going," she told him. "But you can stay here if you want. Right, Mitch?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah," he shrugged. "I don't think anyone would mind if you stayed behind." In fact, I'd prefer it.
"Okay, then I'll go with you," Logan said. "You gonna change or go in that?" He gestured to the oversized robe she was currently wearing, and Jamie looked down.
"Right," she began to untie it. "I guess I should raid Chloe's closet for something to wear. Be right back," she shot over her shoulder at Mitch before pushing past Logan toward the master. The two men stared at each other for a moment, then Logan cleared his throat and excused himself. Mitch watched him go, wondering for the first time exactly what had happened in the woods of New Brunswick.
They had to take both vehicles to fit all of them, and Mitch ended up driving the second car since Abe, Dariela and Jackson had piled into the Hummer. Allison directed them to her family's land, and Mitch had to turn around twice after making a wrong turn because he had been trying to hear the quiet conversation going on in the back of his vehicle. Jamie and Logan had leaned in toward each other, and every now and then he heard her chuckle at something he said. Something ugly was growing in his chest, and Mitch did his best to shove it back down and focus on the mission at hand.
It was almost midnight when they pulled up outside Allison's family home. There were half a dozen cars parked outside, and the bright red and blues from the ambulance bounced off the siding. Allison jumped out before Mitch had completely stopped, sprinting as fast as her heels would allow toward the house.
Mitch motioned for the others to stay outside as he stepped through the open front door. He could tell immediately something bad had happened, and a small pang of guilt surged through him. Could they have prevented it if they'd been here earlier? If they hadn't gone for Jamie first?
It didn't matter, he decided. Whatever else happened, getting Jamie back was the most important thing. He wasn't sure she would see it that way, but maybe with everything else occupying her thoughts, she might not even think about it.
Allison was crying, though she was doing so silently as she comforted an older woman. Mitch caught her eye and nodded when she lifted her chin in the direction of the stairs. He could see the same cold accusation in her eyes, but he decided there would be time to deal with that later. He turned toward the rest of his team on the porch and pitched his voice low.
"I need samples of the soil from a few different places, preferably at least five hundred yards apart" he told them. "There's a kit in the trunk," he tossed Jamie the keys. "Jackson?" He indicated for his friend to follow, and the two men crept up the stairs slowly as the others set to their task. There was water on the floor trailing from the hall bathroom toward the master, and the men followed it.
"What the hell?" Jackson breathed.
A man was lying in the middle of the floor surrounded by blood. Some of it had even splattered on the vanity mirror, but there were no wounds Mitch could see. There was an odd sheen to the blood, and as Mitch got closer he saw the shards of glass spread throughout.
"What the hell doesn't quite cover it," Mitch said. "I need something to collect samples with. Baggies are ok, small bottles are better." As Jackson turned to fetch the required items, Mitch's eyes were drawn to the body. He leaned in to get a better look and something moved beneath the skin of his throat. "Whoa!" He reeled back and called for Jackson. "Scratch that, get back in here."
The thing moved again, and both of them watched in horrified fascination as a snake emerged from the man's mouth. It was covered in blood and shedding the same glass-like substance found in the blood. Mitch could only stare at the phenomenon, but Jackson at least seemed to know what to do.
"Here," he had stripped one of the pillows and tossed the case at Mitch. "Hold it open." With its attention on Mitch, Jackson's hand shot forward and gripped the snake at the base of its skull. It thrashed a few times, but Jackson quickly got a hold of its tail and lowered it into the open pillowcase. Mitch tied it closed and handed it off to Jackson with an incredulous expression.
"Well, I think I know what's causing the glass in the soil."
Back on the plane, Allison was more subdued as they all gathered in the lab. The dead man had been her cousin, Bill, and she'd spent most of the time at his house consoling his wife. Mitch was explaining his theory of the snake's shed poisoning the trees as the others huddled around the center table. The snake was safely caged in a tank on the table, and judging from its tightly coiled position it wasn't terribly happy about it.
"Based on the amount of glass we saw in the orchard, there must be thousands of snakes," Abe said.
Allison glanced at the map of the area Mitch had called upon his monitor. "So where are they all hiding?"
"Snakes came through the toilet, right?" Jackson looked at Mitch for confirmation, but it was Allison who answered.
"I certainly looks like it."
"I think I have an idea," he reached over to tap the screen, focusing on a specific area. "This is aquifer that runs under the property," he highlighted the water. "It supplies water to all the farms in the county." He traced the path of the water with his finger. "My thought is that the snakes are shedding their toxic glass directly into your farm's water supply."
"What about the drinking water?" Mitch asked.
"County draws it directly from the river," Allison answered, "so at least we don't have to worry about contamination."
"But we do," Jackson zoomed out and moved the map up. "Your aquifer feeds into tons of other public water sources for hundreds of miles. Your farm is only the beginning."
Jamie entered the conversation in that abrupt manner Mitch had missed so much. "So these snakes are going to poison the entire Pacific Northwest?"
Jackson nodded solemnly. "Countless innocent people are gonna be drinking poison directly from their kitchen sinks unless we do something."
"So how do we stop it?" Allison sounded a bit more like her no-nonsense, bossy self, though Mitch could tell she was barely covering her anger. There would be a reckoning soon and he was not looking forward to it.
"Poison them," Mitch said simply. "Before they poison us."
Logan pushed away from the table he'd been leaning on an uncrossed his arms. "Can you do that?"
"If anyone can, it's Mitch," Jamie shot him a confident smile and turned toward the exit. "I'm gonna go back to bed. Wake me if you need me." The others all shuffled out after her except Allison. Mitch tried to ignore her as he gathered everything he'd need, but her stare was worse than Superman's heat vision.
"What?" he asked finally.
"So that's the woman who was more important than saving the world?" She sounded almost catty, and Mitch forced himself not to rise to the bait.
"I understand you're hurting because of your cousin's death," he said evenly, "and I'm sorry. But your grief is no excuse -"
"My cousin would be alive if we hadn't made that little detour!" she shouted.
"You don't know that," Mitch shook his head. "How long has this been going on, Allison? Weeks? Months? And no one's seen a snake until tonight. And, I don't know about you, but I don't generally watch my relatives sleep. Which means the snake probably would have gotten to him anyway. And," he added a little more hotly, "Jamie and that other girl would be dead. Those people would have fed them to the animals and we wouldn't have gotten there in time. So I'll take one death over three any day."
"That's why you were a lousy doctor," Allison sneered. "You always boil things down to neat, logical terms. No room for compassion or empathy."
Being demeaned by Allison was nothing new, and he'd long since learned how to deal with it. "I've got a lot of work to do, Allison." It was a dismissal, and he made sure she heard it in his tone, but she didn't heed it. Instead she posted up on the opposite side of the lab and began flipping through her tablet quietly. Realizing that was probably the closest he was going to get to her leaving him alone, he didn't say anything more.
It took almost three hours, but finally he'd synthesized something he was pretty sure would do the trick. His grunt of triumph drew the attention of the woman across the room, and she stowed her device away to inspect his work.
"What is it?"
"This," he held up the small vial of cream colored liquid, "is the solution to your snake problem."
Allison scoffed, and Mitch could practically hear her eyes rolling. "Just tell me how it will work."
"I'd rather not," he told her bluntly. It wasn't exactly the most diplomatic thing to say, but no one had ever accused Mitch of being tactful.
"Mitch," Allison's tone had instantly changed to the overbearing bossiness he expected from her, "you are using my lab to make a poison you want to dump into the water supply, so just lose the whole misunderstood misanthrope act and tell me out it will work, or I will shut it down."
"Hey," a voice interrupted her tirade and both of them looked up to see a rather furious Jamie stomping toward them. Or at least she tried to look imposing; the limp she was still sporting detracted from the effect somewhat. "What the hell gives you the right to come in here and treat everyone like you own them?"
Though her defense of him was both endearing and hot as hell, Mitch knew Allison would answer the challenge with just as much vigor and he didn't really feel up to getting in the middle of a fight at the moment.
"Deputy Secretary of Defense," Allison raised her chin defiantly. "And as I said, this is my plane. I brought Mitch here, gave him this lab." She turned to him then, her tone lightening just slightly. "Because I believe in you," she said candidly. "Eleanor sent me dozens of alternatives to the Noah Objective. I passed on all of them until I saw your name. All of this," she swept her arm in a wide arc to encompass the lab, "is because I know you better than anyone. You're the best at what you do, you just needed someone to back you up."
It was certainly convincing, her imploring openness. He even saw a glimmer of the woman he had fallen for twelve years ago peeking through the hard exterior and it tugged at his heart. But Allison was very good at emotional manipulation, and she had already fooled him once. If he'd run into her a year ago he might have fallen for it again, but so much had changed since then.
"Allison," he spoke evenly, "while I appreciate the fancy new digs and the state of the art lab, I don't need to be here. As a matter of fact, I'll be happy to hop off right now and you can figure this out yourself. I've already lost too much to this damn animal apocalypse." His eyes cut to Jamie, who was all but smiling encouragingly. "So either you believe in me - in which case I don't have to tell you how it works, just that it works - or you don't, and we're done."
Allison looked back and forth between the two of them and weighed her options. She was scowling as she stormed away, but Mitch didn't care. He turned to Jamie with a proud smirk.
"My hero," he told her, and she scoffed lightly. "Seriously, though, thank you. She can be…"
"A bitch?"
Mitch choked at her rather abrupt description. "Yeah," he said once he got his breathing back under control.
"So," she settled at his side and leaned her good hip against the table to take weight off her right foot, "you said you've figured it out?"
"Yep," he held up the vial, "this should affect the snake's sensory organ, causing it to swell and press against the brain. Eventually it'll shut off all of the snake's bodily functions." He thought it was funny how he felt no misgivings about explaining the whys and hows to Jamie, even though she hadn't asked. Maybe that was why, he surmised, because she hadn't asked. Explaining the science side of things to her was almost reflex, to share with her his successes and enjoy the look on her face as she soaked in new information. It felt good, this scene of the two of them chatting in the lab. It was almost something like normal for them, and he savored the familiarity of it.
She eyed the vial curiously. "Will it hurt humans?" Mitch immediately upended the vial into his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste but smacking his lips anyway as he swallowed the mouthful. Jamie smirked and rolled her eyes. "For science?" He shrugged with a self-satisfied smile. "A simple yes would have sufficed."
"More fun my way," he told her. "Now I gotta make a whole bunch of this stuff."
"How long will that -"
A loud crash from the main lab area made them both jump. Mitch peeked around the staircase and cringed. "Uh oh." The tank that had housed the snake was on the floor, open and empty. He moved quickly to the the intercom on the wall and pressed the button that would broadcast to the whole plane. "Uh, we've got a problem in here."
"Mitch," Jamie was creeping back toward him, and he turned to find the snake slithering slowly in their direction.
"Come on," he reached for her hand and tugged her slowly around the stairs. The snake turned to follow, cutting off their access to the rear exit.
"Is it venomous?" Jamie asked.
"Not usually" Mitch said without taking his eyes off the serpent. "Looks like a kingsnake, but I have no idea what the mutation's done to its biochemistry. Let's not get bitten just in case." He backed her up a little more, shifting to stand in front of her in case it struck.
Footsteps heralded the arrival of the rest of the plane's inhabitants, and Mitch gestured for all of them stay back.
"You okay?" Abe asked.
"For the moment," Mitch answered.
"Where's the poison?" Allison asked.
"The professor here drank it," Jamie jabbed him lightly in the ribs.
"You what?"
"I was making a point," he told her without ever taking his eyes off the snake. If it struck he wanted to be ready.
Dariela began to move toward the front of the plane. "I'll get the tranqs."
"I got this," Jackson said suddenly, and all eyes shifted to him.
"Jackson?"
But Jackson wasn't listening to anyone; his eyes were focused intently on the snake lying just feet away. "Easy," he murmured. Mitch knew he should probably say something, to give him some sort of advice or caution, but the scientist in him really wanted to see what would happen. Would Jackson's mutation give him some sort of control? He'd seen evidence of that with the ants, but that hadn't been a conscience effort. As Jackson eased closer, Mitch watched in rapt attention.
"Easy," Jackson held his hand palm out as he got within a foot of the snake. No one moved a muscle as he knelt down to grab the animal, and Mitch was probably the only one unsurprised when the snake didn't bite. Jackson placed it back in the tank and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Rafiki?" Abe was the first to speak as Mitch helped him set the tank somewhere the snake couldn't move it again. "How did you…?"
Jackson looked sheepish as he turned back toward the team. "We should talk."
Mitch stepped away to give Allison the chemical formula for the poison as the rest of them settled around Jackson for his explanation. She didn't look too happy to be sent away, but Mitch reminded her that the faster she did, the sooner her family's problem would go away. She left with a promise to return, to which he just waved halfheartedly. He'd hoped that once they'd solved the orchard problem she would go back to Washington. He should have known his luck wasn't that great. When he rejoined the others, Jackson was already talking about the new cure.
"Here," Mitch grabbed a monitor and wheeled it over. "There's something you should all see."
He showed them the triple-helix DNA he'd discovered, as well as the genomic fossils he'd already identified - the vultures, the sloth, the ants, and now the snake.
"So that leaves us three more animals to identify and capture," Jamie said.
Mitch nodded. "Once we've identified all seven genomic fossils, I should be able to eliminate that third strand." He tapped a sequence on the keyboard and the mutated DNA on the screen returned to the normal double helix.
"Looks like you got your work cut out for you."
Dariela's statement wasn't surprising - Mitch hadn't really expected her to stay on this long, much less when faced with the prospect of globe hopping for mystery animals. What was surprising, however, were Jackson's next words.
"We could use your help." Ever since Chloe's death, Jackson and Dariela's relationship had become strained, almost hostile. Mitch didn't blame him, but he also understood that the Ranger had made a difficult call. He'd made a few of those in his day, and while he was still hurting from the loss of his friend, he didn't hate Dariela for it. But you still can't forgive Abe for New Brunswick? He silenced his inner voice harshly. This was no time for rational arguments.
No one said anything for a moment, and Dariela looked almost surprised. The pregnant pause lasted a little longer, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath for her answer.
"Be good to have with us on the team," Jackson continued. "What do you say?"
"Copy that." It was an olive branch, and she'd taken it.
Jackson nodded in acceptance and pushed away from the counter to leave as Abe moved in the direction of the cockpit. Trotter often took a nap in his own quarters near the front of the plane when they were grounded, so Abe had taken it upon himself to be his back up. Trotter had even given the man a crash course on flying a large jetliner, and while Abe would likely wait until Trotter was awake to take off, he would do all the preflight checks now.
Dariela followed Jackson toward the living quarters, leaving Mitch, Jamie and Logan in the lab. Mitch began to clean up from his earlier enterprise. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Logan lean in and whisper something to Jamie, and the knee-jerk resentment it brought him caused Mitch to clench his fist a bit too hard. The glass vial in his hand shattered, and he winced as a shard of it slid into his palm.
"Mitch, you okay?" Jamie was immediately at his side grabbing for his hand. "Let me see."
"I'm alright," he told her. "Really, it's nothing." He pulled his hand away and reached for a pair of forceps.
"Here," she took them from him and pushed him back toward the stool. "Sit."
He complied, and over her shoulder he saw Logan's frown. Good, he thought childishly. He had no idea where it was coming from, but the satisfaction upon seeing the other man's discomfort made him smile a bit. He held still as Jamie carefully gripped the shard and pulled it from his skin. It bled a little, but he wouldn't need stitches.
"Clean that," Jamie directed.
"Yes, doctor."
That earned him a slap on the shoulder and a bright smile. He stayed on the stool and pushed himself over to the sink to run his hand under water. Once clean, he turned to grab the remains of the medical kit he'd used earlier on her foot. She had beaten him to it, however, and was coming back over with gauze, medical tape, and antibiotic ointment. He recognized the look on her face, her need to to something, so he let her finish bandaging him up. Logan left at some point, but Mitch was so focused on Jamie's presence that he hadn't noticed.
"He likes you," he blurted out when she was finished.
Her demeanor changed instantly, and he wished he could take it back. "I saved his life," she said matter-of-factly. "Twice. He's infatuated. He'll get over it." She pushed back and put everything away as Mitch watched her. He wanted to apologize, but he had no idea what for.
"I'm kind of tired," Jamie announced suddenly, "and it's after three in the morning. I'm gonna go back to sleep." She left without another word, leaving Mitch alone in the lab. He wanted to follow her, but there was still a mess in the lab - and in her head, his inner voice added. Deciding she probably just needed some time alone, he let her go and turned back to his workstation with a sigh.
A/N: Perturbations: The disturbances in the orbit of a celestial object caused by the gravitational pull of another object; deviations of a system, moving object, or process from its regular or normal state of path, caused by outside influences.