Determinant: a gene or other factor that determines the character and development of a cell or group of cells in an organism.
Chapter 24: Contingency - Perchance to Dream
Tragedy strikes at the Russian Embassy, forcing the team to reassess everything as the Noah Objective grows perilously closer.
"We'll be landing in D.C. in an hour."
Trotter's announcement woke Mitch immediately. He groaned and tried to roll over, but the warm body next to him prevented him from face planting into the pillow. Jamie laughed at his antics and pushed at his shoulder.
"Come on, sleepyhead." The tone of voice told him she'd been up for a while, though she hadn't moved from the warm nest of blankets they'd created during their nap.
Mitch glanced sidelong at the clock on the nightstand, noting with surprise that they'd slept for almost seven hours. "Were you watching me sleep?" he grumbled, rolling to his back to run a hand down his face.
"Maybe," she returned cheekily. "Come on, I need a shower."
"So go take a shower," he gestured vaguely in the direction of the bathroom.
Jamie just laughed again. "I would," she poked his side gently, "except I'm sort of stuck." She wiggled her legs to demonstrate, and Mitch realized they were tangled with his inside the sheet.
"Oh." It took a few seconds of careful rearranging, but finally she was free. "Save some hot water for me," he told her as she climbed over him.
"You could join me," she suggested. "I seem to remember something from last summer about revisiting the topic sometime?"
Mitch's brain was still in startup mode, so it took a moment to dig the memory out. They had just made Clearwater after a long car ride from Boston, and both Jamie and Mitch had been too tired to do anything more than take separate showers and collapse into bed for a nap. Of course, it had also been early on in their relationship and taking that step had been a long way off in either of their minds.
"You're right," he threw the covers back and swiveled to place his feet on the floor. "And in light of the approaching apocalypse, we should probably conserve as much water as possible."
She was grinning as she entered the bathroom, and Mitch was two steps behind her. She turned the inside lock on Dariela's side, not wanting his suitemate to interrupt them. Mitch didn't think she'd even stayed in her own bed last night, but he didn't really care enough to point it out. He turned the shower on, dialing the heat up just a little higher than he normally had it, before stripping off his underwear.
Jamie stepped under the spray just after him, and her nimble fingers danced over his skin as he turned and swept her into a kiss. She smiled against his mouth as they slipped a bit on the wet tile, but he braced a hand against the wall behind her as he continued to trail kisses down her jaw toward her neck. A red mark just above her collarbone made him smile, and he spent a few extra seconds here as she squirmed beneath him.
"You think it's funny?" she asked breathless, her voice almost inaudible over the sound of the shower.
"A little," he admitted. "I haven't given anybody a hickey since college."
"Well, since it's so amusing, how about I give you one?" She'd meant it as a threat, but Mitch just grinned wider.
"Go ahead." He craned his neck to the side, giving her easy access to the expanse of skin. Her arms came up over his shoulders, and as she raised up on her toes her body pressed flush against his. He turned his head to press a kiss to her shoulder and caught sight of another mark.
"What's that?" She dropped her arm quickly, angling slightly to keep it away from his sight. "Jamie?" he gripped her hips gently and tugged, asking her silently to let him see.
She sighed and turned to show him the trio of finger-sized bruises that ringed her bicep. He knew what they were immediately, and he raised her arm above her head to inspect further. There were matching bruises on the inside where he could only imagine his thumb had dug into her.
"Mitch?" she lowered her arm enough to lay her hand on his cheek. "Hey, look at me." He dragged his eyes to hers, imploring her to accept his silent apology. But she just shook her head softly and smiled. "It's okay. I'm okay. They don't even hurt." She raised up to kiss him, full and firm.
He leaned away. "I shouldn't have grabbed you that hard," he told her. "I didn't mean to...are you sure they don't hurt?" He'd been in a bad way but he didn't remember gripping her hard enough to leave bruises.
Jamie laughed. "One of these days, you and I are going to have a longer conversation about what is and isn't okay in bed. This," she glanced at her arm, "is absolutely okay. I know it wasn't done in anger; it was done in a moment of passion. Of love. Don't think you've done anything wrong, because I don't. Your passion - both in and out of the bedroom - is just one of the things I love about you."
She kissed him again, and this time he responded a little more eagerly. He still felt bad for leaving marks on her skin like that, but her words had gone a long way to ease the guilt he was feeling. Then she moved her lips from his mouth to his neck and his guilt was eclipsed by a rush of that passion she was so fond of.
"What do you think?"
Mitch examined the mark in the mirror as he finished shaving. Jamie sat on the vanity next to him, smiling like the proverbial canary-eating cat as she indicated the reddening mark just above the junction of his neck and shoulder.
"I think I'm gonna have to wear a collared shirt today," he smiled at her in the mirror as he zipped the last of the shaving cream from his face with the razor. He washed the remnants off and ran his hands over his chin and cheeks to make sure he'd gotten it all. Jamie had insisted on watching him, and though he'd thought the request odd he hadn't had the heart to deny her. This quiet moment of domesticity was almost surreal, and only the quiet hum of jet engines reminded him of their rather peculiar place of residence.
"Here," she handed him a small bottle of aftershave from his toiletry bag. "I'm gonna go see if Vera's up and grab some clean clothes." She leaned in to kiss his clean-shaven cheek, then hopped down. He watched her go and wondered if he would ever recall the exact moment he'd been lost to her. He'd loved her long before Africa, before leopards and life-threatening hospitals, before Brazil and bears in Paris. Somewhere between a casual lunch and flying across the country with her, he'd realized this was going to be something more than an infatuation.
A knock on his door startled him, and before he could open it he heard Allison's voice call out. "I need everyone in the lounge as soon as possible, please." She was speaking to the entire hall, and somewhere from the other side Mitch heard Dariela's answer.
"Copy that."
He added his own affirmation, waiting until he heard her footsteps receding before stepping out of his bathroom and getting dressed. He figured jeans and a short sleeve Oxford wouldn't look too out of the ordinary, and he was grateful for the spontaneous clothes shopping excursion they'd done during their layover in Portugal as he pulled a clean set from the closet.
Jamie's smile upon seeing his chosen attire was just a little too smug, and he stared at her pointedly until she stifled it behind her hand. Dariela glanced back and forth between them curiously, but Allison commanded their attention before she could say anything about it.
"Trotter says we're landing in fifteen minutes. It's just about four local time, and the Noah Objective launches in two and a half days." She spoke to the group, but her eyes never left Mitch. "The Russian Cabinet of Ministers is meeting tomorrow morning, so you have the rest of the day to find Jackson. I'm going to see Mrs. Salvon to the safe zone and make sure she is secured."
Jamie already had her tablet out. "We have an address for Robert Oz." She pulled up the location on Google Maps, complete with the little red flag over Oz's house. "This is the location we obtained from the trace. Jackson will likely have gone here to find his father."
"What if he doesn't come willingly?" Dariela asked.
"He will," Abe insisted. He sounded too sure, like he was trying to will it to be true, but Mitch said nothing. He was all for a more physical solution should Jackson prove difficult, and he was certain Dariela would have no problem administering it.
Mitch grabbed his jacket and slipped it on as the others stood. "Let's go."
They didn't find Jackson or his father. Just a dead soldier and a whole plethora of scribbled notes on whiteboards in Oz's office. Mitch and Jamie snapped pictures of everything as quickly as they could, just barely slipping out the back as Davies' men stormed the house. Dariela had stayed behind on on the plane, having lost a silent argument with Abe on the subject. Something was going on those two, but Mitch didn't have the mental resources to spare to worry about it.
As they sped back to the plane, Mitch called Dariela with the update. She promised to start looking for any unusual incidences around the Oz residence or Davies' building. By the time they made it back to the plane, she'd found one. "There are reports of shots fired at IADG HQ," she reported.
"Any casualties?" Mitch asked.
"Unclear," she shook her head. "Story's not being picked up by any news outlets. I had to piece things together from social media."
Mitch came around the table to stand behind her. "We're gonna need surveillance at the IADG and surrounding traffic cams."
Dariela was already typing. "Working on it."
On her other side, Jamie was tapping furiously on her tablet. "Says here shots were fired at 4:23 pm."
"Got it," Dariela brought up the video footage of the IADG building, including a shot of their front door security cam.
Mitch didn't know how she'd gotten access, and he didn't want to. He was just glad that it was in her skill set as he scanned for any sign of Jackson or his father. "Fast forward." She did, stopping it at the exact time Jamie had reported.
Dariela turned her head, but never took her eyes off the screen. "Is that?"
"Robert Oz," Abe was hovering just over Mitch's shoulder. They all looked at the image of the two Oz men standing just on the other side of the glass doors. The footage was grainy, but Mitch saw Jackson jerk away from something, then both men walked away quickly.
"Okay," he said, "go to traffic cams."
Dariela switched cameras fast enough to see Jackson and his father getting into a small red SUV.
"That's 12th Street," Jamie glanced from the screen to her tablet. Mitch looked up at the digital map she'd conjured and marveled at the well-oiled team she and Dariela made despite their differences. "There should be another camera at G."
The view switched, keeping tabs on the red vehicle. "They're heading north," Abe said. "Where is Robert taking him?"
Jamie was still hunting traffic cams. "We should be able to pick them up at New York Avenue." Dariela typed the necessary command, but the SUV didn't show. "Maybe they turned," Jamie frowned. "Try Massachusetts." Still, nothing. "13th and M?" Jamie tried again, but the vehicle had seemingly vanished.
"They're gone," Abe stepped away.
"So," Mitch crossed his arms and took a breath, "the great and powerful Oz. Crazy son of a bitch is still alive." He hadn't entirely believed Abe when he'd told him the news, but he couldn't deny the evidence in front of him.
"And now he has the one thing he has coveted most," Abe added hotly. "Jackson."
"I'll go back through the cameras," Dariela offered. "No one can just disappear into thin air. They have to be somewhere."
"That's going to take a while," Jamie set her tablet down to show the others her map. There were symbols at nearly every intersection, indicating a camera was present. "Even if you narrow your search to certain blocks, that's dozens of cameras to sift through."
"So bring me some coffee," Dariela shrugged. Abe cleared his throat meaningfully, and she backpedaled. "Decaf."
Mitch narrowed his eyes at the two of them, his mind already formulating the possibilities. The timing was right, and unless Abe's room had come equipped with some things Mitch's had not, it was very likely the two of them had not had any protection during their nighttime activities.
Oh, shit.
He glanced up at Jamie with a wide-eyed expression, and she returned it with a questioning one of her own. He nodded his head sideways, ever so subtly, and she followed him to the small niche under the stairs.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"I think Dariela's pregnant."
"What?" Jamie exclaimed, then ducked her head as Mitch shushed her. "Why do you think that?" she continued in a quieter tone.
Mitch checked to see if Dariela or Abe had heard her outburst, but Dariela was focused on the computer screen and Abe was already gone. "Think about it," he said. He held up his fingers one by one as he listed the evidence. "She orders a decaf coffee, when both of us clearly know she usually drinks the real stuff. Abe has been a lot more overbearing and protective where she's concerned, especially the last few days. And let's not forget about the horses, who bypassed a hundred or more unarmed, frightened people to focus on her. It makes sense that the mutation we're seeing in the animals would give them an imperative to kill any gestating humans to keep the population from growing."
Jamie grimaced at his scientific explanation, but he could see she was assimilating his points and accepting them. "Okay," she said slowly, "but if she is, why haven't they told us?"
"I don't know," Mitch shrugged, "and I don't care. But I do have a question for you. When's the last time you...I mean...when was your last…"
Jamie smiled at his obvious discomfort about the topic. "Weren't you a doctor?" she teased.
"Not an OB," he countered grumpily.
"To answer your question," she crossed her arms over her body and leaned back against the table. "I don't remember. My body is just now getting back to normal after...well, after everything. I was in and out of consciousness for six months, remember? I don't remember much of anything. And my trek through the wonderful frostbitten backwoods of Canada certainly didn't help much in terms of regulation."
Mitch nodded thoughtfully, calculating odds and assessing the risks. "But you're not…"
"Pregnant?" Jamie laughed. "No, I don't think so." He could see the tiniest bit of fear hidden behind her smile. "Do you want to run a test to be sure?"
He jumped on her offer immediately. "Yes, please."
She sat silently in the chair as he drew blood, but as he began working through the lab procedure she began chatting over his shoulder. "Does it scare you that much?"
"What?"
"The thought of being a dad again?"
He couldn't read her own feelings on the subject based on her tone, so he just shrugged and tried to keep his own neutral. "Wasn't terribly good at it the first time around."
He felt her hand light on his back and rub a small circle before dropping away. "Things are different," she said simply. "You're different. Besides," she added, turning so she could rest her back against the table and look at his face, "you made a decision that you thought was best for Clem, even though it hurt you to do it. That sounds like a good dad to me."
He glanced at her briefly, then returned his eyes to the machinery. "Are we actually having this conversation right now?"
"Apparently."
"You don't seem terribly freaked out about it."
"Oh, don't let this cool exterior fool you," she let out a little nervous chuckle. "I'm hoping this test of yours is negative and I don't have to add that particular craziness to the list of things I'm currently dealing with."
Mitch pulled the tube from the centrifuge and finished the last steps of the procedure while Jamie watched like a hawk. He waited a few agonizing minutes, then analyzed the results.
"Well?" she asked impatiently.
"Negative," he relaxed, expecting her to do the same. She didn't. "You alright?"
"Huh? Yeah." She shook her head. "Yeah, that's a relief."
He packed away his equipment automatically and glanced up at her out of the corner of his eye. She was staring off into the distance, out into the lab proper, and he realized she was watching Dariela. "Jamie?"
She blinked and cut her eyes to his. "Yeah?"
"You seem, I don't know...disappointed?"
"No," she shook her head quickly. "No, no, no, just...thinking."
Mitch wasn't entirely sure where the question had come from, but once it entered his head it bounced around until it found the outlet to his tongue. "Do you want children?"
Judging from her bewildered expression, it had caught her off-guard. "What? No!"
"Not right now," he clarified quietly. "I mean, someday. When all of this is," he gestured toward the plane around them, "is over."
She paused for a moment, as if weighing her answer, then shrugged. "Maybe. One day. What about you?"
Mitch still wasn't sure, and he told her so. "Audra's pregnancy was a complete surprise. I spent most of my early twenties ducking 'the question' and focusing on my career just so I wouldn't have to think about it. Having children was never on my radar. Too many bad genes to pass on." He couldn't help the stab of self-loathing that popped up whenever he thought about this particular topic. He could sense Jamie wanted to say something - probably a protest to his words - but he went on before she could interrupt. "But then Clem came along and she was...perfect. And, just for a moment, I forgot about all of those reasons I'd come up with."
"Why, Doctor Morgan," Jamie crooned teasingly, "I never knew you could be so sentimental."
He rolled his eyes and turned to mirror her pose, leaning back against the work table. "I'm just saying, it would take someone very special to sway me in favor of bringing more Morgans into the world."
"Oh yeah?" she turned toward him slightly with a coy smile on her face. "Know anyone who might fit the bill?"
"Maybe," he played along but couldn't help the grin that split his face. When had he become such a sap? Her teasing smirk erupted into a self-satisfied smile, and Mitch leaned down to kiss it off her face.
"Guys?" Dariela interrupted just before their lips met and Mitch bit back a groan as they turned toward her. "Allison's calling on the secure line."
"I'll get it," Mitch offered. "I am the leader, after all."
Jamie just pushed his shoulder and went to help Dariela as he made his way to the meeting room just off the lab. He hit the button that connected the line, and Allison's face filled the screen.
"Hey," she greeted. "I've got Mrs. Salvon under a protection detail here. I have some business I need to take care of in the city, but the Russian Cabinet of Ministers is meeting tomorrow morning. I'll be back by to get you and Jamie around eight."
"Jamie's coming?" It was a pleasant surprise; Allison was far from being Jamie's biggest fan.
"Yes." The word looked sour on her tongue as she frowned. "Much as I hate to admit it, she's got a way with people. Minister Ivankov seems keen on her; he asked for her to accompany you."
"I'll let her know." It would do Jamie good to know just how much she'd contributed. He knew the last few weeks had been a rollercoaster for her as she tried to figure out where she fit in this new team dynamic. "Anything else?"
"No," Allison shook her head. "There's a refueling truck that should be by this evening. Any luck with finding Jackson?"
"Dariela and Jamie are scouring the traffic cams," he reported. "So far, all we know is he and his father disappeared from in front of the IADG building around 4:30 this afternoon."
"If Robert Oz has Jackson, we might never see either of them again."
"Doesn't mean we're not gonna look," Mitch returned. "See you tomorrow morning." He cut the connection as Allison opened her mouth to speak. Whatever she was going to say, he didn't want to hear it.
"Everything okay?" Jamie asked as he walked back out into the lab.
"Yeah," he made his way over to the desk. Someone had commandeered the other two computer screens and created a large array on the surface so they could check multiple cameras at once. "Any progress?"
"Still no Jackson," Dariela didn't take her eyes off the screen. "They could have switched cars out of view of the cameras and we'd never know."
"We still need to look," Abe spoke from behind them. "It is just after seven o'clock," he continued. "I can continue searching the cameras while you three get something to eat and rest."
Mitch went to check his watch, then realized he didn't have it on. It wouldn't matter anyway - he couldn't remember which time zone it was synced with.
"I am hungry," Jamie said. "Come on, professor. Let's scrounge up dinner for everybody." She tugged his sleeve and he hesitated only a moment before following her to the kitchen.
Their stores were woefully lacking, so a dinner break turned into a shopping trip. Mitch still had some money in his account, but he couldn't take the chance that Davies wasn't monitoring it or his credit card. And with Jamie having been declared dead for the last eight months, it was unlikely her finances were available to pay for groceries. Trotter had come up with the solution, handing Mitch a card in his wife's name.
"It's for emergencies," he told them with a smile. "And I'm pretty sure this counts."
"We'll pay you back," Jamie promised. "Thank you."
"Just make sure you grab Devil Squares," he requested. "If they have any."
"Will do."
They picked a small market on the edge of the city. Curfew was nine o'clock in the D.C. area, so they had to hurry if they wanted to be back in time. They stuck to mostly non-perishables, except for the fruits and vegetables they'd eat in the next few days. Jamie hunted down Trotter's Devil Squares while Mitch made his way to the drink aisle. Bottled water was a hot commodity, but luck was on their side. A shipment had just been delivered, and Mitch grabbed three cases and shoved them onto the bottom rack of the cart.
He met her near the front, and as she placed the dessert cakes on top of the canned goods he caught sight of the small box in her other hand and spluttered. "Jamie? What are you -"
"Hey, you were the one worrying," she put the condoms in the cart and turned to pull the whole thing toward a checkout lane.
"Yeah, but I didn't mean…"
She started transferring their groceries onto the black conveyor as the cashier finished with the customer ahead of them. "Unless you want to stop having sex?"
Both the cashier and the man checking out glanced in their direction, but Jamie didn't seem to notice. Her unashamed, nonchalant tone flustered him further and he could feel the flush rising up his neck. "No," he pitched his voice lower in hopes that she'd do the same.
"Okay then," she continued unloading the cart, but he thought he caught sight of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. So she had noticed the looks her statement had garnered, she just enjoyed watching him squirm. It was moments like these that Mitch wished he was bolder. He'd love nothing more than to step up behind her and whisper something in her ear that would make her blush, but the ingrained sense of propriety and his own insecurities kept him rooted the spot.
If she noticed his muted behavior, she didn't comment on it. They finished paying and took their gotten gains back to the SUV, where Mitch loaded them as Jamie rolled the empty cart to the return stall. Task complete, she slid into the passenger seat next to him and fiddled with the radio as he pointed them back toward the private airstrip Trotter had landed them on.
"You alright?" she asked finally when a radio announcement about the Noah Objective failed to get a snide response from him.
"Yeah," he told her. "Just...thinking." His head could be a pretty dark place sometimes. It was one of the main reasons he sought to occupy it with science facts and procedures in his down time. If left to its own devices, Mitch was sure he would get lost in a spiral of self-loathing and contempt that he knew only one way out of. Since he'd promised Jamie he wouldn't seek that option any longer, he forced himself to think of other things.
"Have you talked to your family recently?"
If Jamie was thrown by his sudden change of topic, she didn't show it. "I called Uncle Bo a few days ago," she said. "We talked for a while. He told me about Stephen."
Damn, he thought. He hadn't meant to bring their mood down even further. Her cousin had been living in Houston at the start of the animal uprising and, though Mitch had never gone digging for details, he'd inferred from a few conversations with Fran that the southeastern part of Texas hadn't fared well.
"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely. He'd heard enough stories from Stephen's twin, Sam, to know that she had been closest to the twins growing up. Learning that Reiden had - however indirectly - taken another family member from her couldn't be sitting well.
Jamie accepted his condolences with a nod before her smile turned wry. "He also said to tell you that you left your jacket at the house."
"Is that where I left it?" Mitch chuckled. "I was wondering. I liked that jacket, too."
"I can pick it up after this is all over," she turned her head to stare out the window as he drove them through the dark streets. "A few weeks relaxing at the farm is just what I need after the craziness. Wanna come?"
Mitch hated that she had to ask. He tried to comb through his recent memories and find anything that might have given her the impression that he would be anywhere but at her side. Was it his reluctance to bring any more children into this chaotic world they lived in? She hadn't seemed too adamant about, but he was notoriously bad at reading people. What if his noncommittal had been a test, one that he'd failed spectacularly?
"Earth to Mitch?" She waved a hand near his face, careful to keep his view of the road unobstructed. "You've got your focused, brooding face on."
"Huh?" he turned toward her slightly. "My what?"
"You get this face," she wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brow comically, then relaxed back to her normal expression, "when you're thinking too hard about something non-science related."
"You've catalogued my faces?"
"Seriously?" she laughed then, and the sound lightened the burden on his heart. "I could stare at you for weeks and not be able to identify them all. You're...expressive."
"Expressive," he deadpanned. "I've been called a lot of things. That's not one of them."
"Well, you are." She sat back in her seat, her demeanor relaxed and content. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you wanna come with me to Louisiana?"
"You know, the last time you didn't really ask. Just bought me a plane ticket and cajoled me into tagging along."
"Mitch." Her tone told him to stop stalling, but she was still fighting a smile.
"I just...thought it was weird you asked," he admitted. "I guessed I assumed that once this was all over," he gestured vaguely with one hand, "we'd stick together." It wasn't like either of them had a lot of options on where to go; their respective apartments in L.A. were likely out of the question, and though Mitch knew he could stay with his mom in her home he wasn't sure how well it had fared. The more remote spaces of the country - like rural Louisiana - were far more untouched by the apocalypse and he'd just assumed he would be tagging along with her to the farm. They'd talked about it once before, but nothing had been set in stone.
"Of course we are," she sounded almost a little hurt, but she shook it off and continued. "I just didn't know if you wanted to deal with my crazy family for that long."
"Jamie," he smiled at her to take the sting out of his words, "I lived with them for almost a month after…"
"A month?"
Had he not actually told her? He'd mentioned driving down to deliver the news personally, mentioned attending her funeral, but he'd apparently never specifically said how long he'd stayed in Louisiana. "Well, it was more like three weeks, but yeah. From about a week after the crash until a few days before the Reiden hearing. Probably would have stayed longer if Chloe hadn't called."
She had nothing to say to that, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as she fell silent. She was smiling softly so he guessed her thoughts weren't too bad. He let go of the wheel and reached over the center console for her hand. She wrapped her thin fingers around his palm, and her smile blossomed a bit more.
"They must really like you," she said finally. "Uncle Bo always hated my other boyfriends. He'd never have let them stay at the farm, end of the world or no."
Mitch recalled the heart to heart chat he'd had with the eldest Armstrong in the kitchen after everyone else had retreated upstairs. Bo had thanked Mitch for looking out for Jamie, for caring about her. He'd known even then how deep Mitch's feelings had run for his niece, and looking back on the conversation Mitch could read between the lines. Bo had been giving his blessing, even after Jamie's death. In Bo's eyes, Mitch had been worthy of her.
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, his eyes still glued to the road. "Guess that means you're stuck with me," he told her ruefully.
Her voice was thick with emotion when she answered. "Sounds good."
Dinner was a quiet affair as they took shifts in the kitchen. Despite their hours of downtime on the flight back to D.C., exhaustion settled over them like a heavy blanket as the hour grew late.
"Okay," Mitch said finally after another camera review turned up nothing. "Time for bed." His eyes were burning from staring at the screens for too long. Next to him, Jamie was drooping in her seat.
"Yeah," she sounded reluctant to abandon the search, so sure they were just one more camera away from finding out where Jackson and his father had gone.
"I'm going to continue looking," Abe announced.
"Abe," Jamie protested even as she stood.
"I will be fine," he assured her. "Get some rest."
Mitch ushered Jamie out the door before she could offer to stay up with him; she looked wiped despite their short day. He didn't feel much better.
"It's the jet lag," Jamie complained as they climbed into bed. "I'm not entirely sure what time zone my body is acclimated to." She fitted herself against his side easily and stifled a yawn.
Mitch hummed in response, his overtaxed mind already shutting down. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he'd laid down, and the thought of another six or seven hours of sleep sounded like heaven.
He was alone when he woke, but he didn't worry. Jamie was an early riser, and he trusted her to wake him if she needed him. He was tempted to roll over and go back to sleep, see if he could sneak a few more minutes, but then he remembered Allison's imminent arrival and all thoughts of a peaceful, lazy morning fled.
He showered and dressed almost robotically, and when he stepped into the kitchen Jamie smiled and passed him the second mug of coffee she'd prepared.
"Thanks." He expected it to be cooler than he liked, but as he took a hesitant sip he realized it was still pleasantly warm. She hadn't been up for too long, then. "Seen Abe yet?"
"No," she shook her head. "I was just about to check in on him."
Mitch nodded his head toward the door and she followed easily. Abe wasn't in the lab, and a quick investigation found him on the upper level with a laptop and an eye-aching picture in picture screen that strained Mitch's eyes.
But Jamie was far more worried about her friend than Mitch's headache. "Abe, you've been up all night. You need to get some rest."
"No," Abe shook his head. "We're running out of time." They were, but Mitch didn't think that Abe dropping from exhaustion would particularly help their situation. Abe seemed to sense his thoughts, and glanced at the countdown ticking silently on the muted television behind him. "The Noah Objective launches in less than forty-eight hours."
"Maybe not," Allison breezed in dramatically with a pleased smile on her face. "I just got off the phone with Ivankov. He believes he's convinced enough ministers to vote against Davies to pull out of the Noah Objective."
Dariela turned from her place beside Abe. "Will that shut Davies down?"
"In a heartbeat," Jamie sounded almost triumphant. "His plan is to drop the gas in the Siberian jetstream and spread it all over Northern Europe. Without Russia, the Noah Objective's done." Mitch was impressed; she had done her homework. Of course, no one could accuse Jamie Campbell of not being thorough, or a quick study. When she set her mind to something, she assimilated information at a blindingly fast speed and didn't stop until she knew every facet. It was why her continued battle with Reiden had gone as long as it had; every time they blocked her, she just kept sifting through information, reports, and accounts until she found the next thing. Her tenacity was just one of the things Mitch loved about her.
"Thanks to you, and your little talk with Ivankov," he saluted her with his half-full mug. "Nice work." Her answering smile was part pride, part teasing. He hadn't meant that to sound quite so...lordly. But she deserved the credit for getting them this far - without her, they wouldn't even be talking to the Russian Cabinet of Ministers today.
"Jamie was very useful," Allison agreed flatly, "but the ministers still need to hear from the architect of the cure." Mitch like the sound of that. "The...tie wearing architect?"
That he did not like. "Nobody who ever saved the world needed to wear a tie." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jamie turn away to hide her grin from Allison. It didn't work.
"Fine," she huffed, "then change into whatever people who save the world wear and meet me in the vehicle bay."
"I'm going to stay here and continue looking for Jackson," Abe said.
"We have Vera Salvon secured in a safe zone." Allison had, on more than one occasion, accused him of being too clinical, too rational. He wondered how well she would take the same criticism. Surely she could understand that they weren't just going to forget about their friend?
"So?"
"So, we don't need Jackson." Maybe not.
Abe's face remained impassive, but his tone was anything but. "I am not going anywhere until I find Jackson." Mitch's chest hitched with dark amusement and he bit back a bark of laughter. It was ironic really - his refusal to give up on Jackson, to continue looking for him - when he'd so easily abandoned Jamie in the wilds of Canada. At least they knew Jackson was safe, or at least not alone. His father would (probably) look out for him until they could find him again.
When Dariela seconded Abe's sentiment, Allison looked about ready to blow a gasket. Mitch held up his hands in an attempt at diplomacy.
"Alright, how about this? Divide and conquer," he said. "You guys go crash the Oz family reunion and we'll go restart the Cold War."
"Sounds like a plan," Dariela agreed, though Mitch suspected she would agree to anything he said so long as Allison kept acting like she owned most of the world and half its inhabitants.
He turned to Allison and finished the last of his coffee. "Five minutes," he told her.
The Russian Embassy was nestled snugly in the western corner of D.C., right between Cathedral Heights and Georgetown. Bordered by Archibald Glover Park to the west and the U.S. Naval Observatory to the east, it was almost four miles as the crow flies to the IADG headquarters and further still from the private airfield where Trotter had landed them. Allison drove, her attention split between the road and the phone cradled against her shoulder as she navigated the near empty streets of the nation's capital.
In the backseat, Jamie and Mitch observed the city with critical eyes. Under normal circumstances, the streets would be teeming with people going about their business or leisure. Now, D.C. looked like a ghost town. Vehicles that were on the road were large, heavy SUVs or trucks. Gone were the sleek, fiberglass bodies of sedans and sports cars. It had been almost two months since the National Zoo breakout, but the threat of being overrun by a large animal still loomed over the city and its inhabitants.
Much to Mitch's surprise the public transit system was still in operation, and Allison navigated them around a bus slowing to a stop next to a covered bench on Mass Ave. A single woman with graying hair and a hawkish nose stood with her handbag clutched against her chest, as though she was more afraid of a robber snatching it from her than a wild animal jumping out and attacking her. Mitch lost sight of her as Allison steered them around Dupont Circle and toward the west.
Allison turned right on Wisconsin and drove a few blocks before pulling into the small driveway barred by a large iron gate. Two men stood just inside the gate with dour expressions and automatic rifles. Allison seemed unperturbed.
"Allison Shaw, Deputy Secretary of Defense," she identified herself as one of the men stepped outside the gate. She flashed a badge, which the man checked, then checked again. His sharp gaze glanced to the backseat, and Mitch forced himself not to squirm under the scrutiny.
"Them?" the man nodded in their direction.
"Doctor Mitch Morgan and Jamie Campbell," Allison answered shortly. "We're expected by Minister Ivankov."
The guard handed her wallet back and made a motion with his hand for her to stay put. He walked to the gate and barked something in his native tongue. The other guard nodded sharply and stepped into the small guard shack off to the side of the gate. He came out moments later and began to open the gate wider.
Allison eased them through the just-wide-enough opening the guards gave. Mitch tossed a small wave toward the men, but neither returned it. As soon as the car was through, the gate was closed and their positions resumed as if nothing had happened.
"Friendly bunch," Mitch muttered.
The embassy was a square, white building sitting among other square, white buildings on Wisconsin Avenue. The only thing that differentiated it from the others was the two story flagpole flying the white, blue and red flag of the Russian Federation. The building itself was seven or eight stories, and as Allison pulled their SUV into a designated space Mitch glanced up.
Six large, black birds sat on the railing that ran around the rooftop, and as he watched two more joined them. Jamie followed his gaze as they both unbuckled and stepped out of the car, her hand shielding her eyes as she counted.
"Crows?"
"Yeah," Mitch nodded. "Not entirely sure how I feel about walking into a building that's being watched by a murder."
"A what?" Allison locked the car but made no move toward the front doors.
"A gathering of crows is a murder," Mitch gestured. "Seems like a bad omen, is all."
"Bad omen?" Jamie's tone was teasing. "Better not let the other scientists hear you talking like that. You won't get invited back to the scientist convention."
"Can we focus?" Allison pulled them away from their banter and nodded toward the door before walking away. Mitch just shrugged and followed, just barely resisting the urge to grab Jamie's hand as the crows gave a loud call at the exact moment they passed under.
The quiet exterior of the building belied the dizzying throng of people milling about within, like ants in a hill. Mitch remembered that the Cabinet of Ministers was meeting today and guessed the number of people meant most of them were already in attendance.
"Secretary Shaw," a woman greeted as they entered, her smile flat but welcoming. "My name is Galina. Minister Ivankov asked me to greet you. He will be down shortly." Her auburn hair was pulled back in a severe bun, highlighting the angular features of her heritage. Her voice was clipped and barely accented, and Mitch found himself jealous of her linguistic ability. He'd barely been able to pass high school Spanish - he could handle the rote memorization, but any time a verbal test came up he stuttered through it awkwardly.
"Thank you," Allison accepted the greeting politely and turned to introduce her companions.
Galina turned toward Mitch and Jamie with an equally diplomatic smile. "Can I offer you some refreshment? A bottle of water?"
"Uh, no," Mitch shook his head. "No, thank you," he amended quickly. Jamie echoed his declination and cast a careful eye around the room. Mitch watched her watching everyone else and hated the almost mistrustful glint in her blue eyes. He knew a part of it was her reporter background - everyone had a story to tell, he supposed, and she was trained to sniff them out. But there was more to her wariness than a journalist's instincts; she looked almost like an animal trapped and cornered. Armed men lined the walls at regular intervals, and even more patrolled the entrances to the hallways that branched off from the lobby. There was only one exit, the door they'd come in, and with everyone bustling about inside there were now about a dozen people between them and the glass doors.
Allison either didn't notice Jamie's unease or chose to ignore it. "The Russians have to believe we have the cure," she angled her body in as though shielding her words from any eavesdroppers. Mitch idly wondered if the Russians would go so far as to bug their own embassy.
"Which would be a full on lie," Mitch matched her level. "I could tell them we're close. But we're still short one animal - an animal that's been extinct for 14,000 years. So, we're really not that close are we?" He tended to ramble when he got nervous, and standing in the Russian Embassy about to address a room full of Ministers to decide the fate of the world made him more than a little nervous.
"I told them that," Jamie volunteered. "Except I left out the extinction part and the mysterious island of Pangaea."
Allison slowed to a stop and plastered a fake smile on her face. "Just go up there, smile, and tell them that we can fix it. We'll figure the rest out later."
Mitch followed her eyes to a man who was making their way toward them. He guessed this was Ivankov if Allison's suddenly sycophantic demeanor was anything to go by. Still, her so-called simple solution grated on his nerves. "Says the woman who doesn't have to figure it out later."
Her politician's mask slipped ever so slightly as her irritation with him edged into her tone. "Mitch, some people are born great. Others have greatness thrust upon them. This is your chance."
He'd always hated that saying. Luckily, he had a comeback. "To become one of the thrusted?"
The man was upon them, shadowed closely by a woman, a child, and a gentleman in a suit who looked to be about an inch or two shorter than the minister himself. Jamie was smiling - a genuine one, not her professional, work smile - so Mitch relaxed and bit back a joke about Russian bodyguards and their clients. In Soviet Russia…
"Minister Ivankov," Jamie greeted the man warmly, extending her hand to him to shake.
"Ms. Campbell," he returned her smile with one of his own. Mitch was surprised to see real warmth on his face as he spoke to Jamie, like they were old friends. The minister turned to the woman at his side with a flat palm. "This is my wife, Sabine. My daughter, Tasha." He glanced over at Allison and the warmth in his eyes cooled considerably. "Ms. Shaw. And you must be Professor Morgan," he turned to Mitch finally.
"I am." He hated small talk. Luckily, Jamie was very good at it.
"Thank you for having us," she said when it was clear Mitch was floundering.
"Don't thank me," Ivankov held up a hand. "Just convince my cabinet that your cure is our only option."
"That's exactly what we'll do," Allison said confidently. Mitch could tell from her tone that she wasn't a fan of the way Jamie seemed to be taking control of the situation, which made Ivankov's next words all the sweeter.
"Not 'we.' You won't be attending, Ms. Shaw. You are a high-ranking U.S. government official," he explained quickly. "It cannot appear as though we are pushing the U.S. agenda." He sounded apologetic, but Mitch took a guess that he wasn't feeling terribly broken up about leaving Allison out of the proceedings.
"Very well," Allison surrendered graciously and turned to Mitch. "I will meet with you both after the vote is called. Good luck." She sauntered away, no doubt off to do whatever it was government officials did during their regular office hours. Mitch didn't want to think about it.
"These are the people who are going to make it so you can ride a real horse again," Ivankov said, and Mitch blinked. Then he realized the minister wasn't talking to them; he was addressing his daughter.
The little girl smiled up at them, her eyes bright with innocence and wonder. "You are going to fix the animals?" she asked eagerly.
Jamie seemed just as taken aback by the girl's absolute faith as he was. She recovered first. "Uh, that's the plan, yeah."
Tasha's grin grew wider as she turned to her mother, her small body bouncing in excitement. Sabine laid a hand on her daughter's shoulder and smiled back before nodding to her husband and moving away. Ivankov watched them go, then began walking toward the elevators. Mitch and Jamie followed soon after.
"You will explain in detail how the cure is being made," he began. "How you will disperse it into the world. The Cabinet will take a vote, but it is symbolic. I've already convinced the majority that the Noah Objective is short-sighted and aggressive."
Mitch couldn't help himself. "Well, when the Russians think a plan is too aggressive, you know something's wrong."
An attache moved into Ivankov's space and leaned in. "The meeting's about to begin, sir."
Ivankov thanked him and continued on. "The DNA bank they plan to use to restart the animal population...can they prove it's viable?"
Mitch took a breath to answer, but Jamie beat him to it. "Even if it is, the ecosystem will be destroyed. Ninety percent of all plants rely on animals for pollination. What would humans eat if all of the animals and ninety percent of plants were just gone? It would take decades to restore the balance, if we even survive that long."
Mitch stared for a moment, completely dumbstruck. She'd taken a large amount of scientific data - no doubt gleaned from the innumerable books and articles she read - and condensed all of the relevant information into four sentences. He had never before met anyone with her capability to assimilate, process, and summarize information in such a short amount of time.
"Davies has said none of this," Ivankov shook his head as his guard reached out to press the elevator button.
It dinged as Mitch leaned toward Jamie. "Well, someone's been paying attention in class." She tossed a sickly sweet smile over her shoulder as he followed her into the elevator. Raised voices followed them, and Mitch turned sharply as a gunshot barked, echoing across the lobby.
"What is…"
A deep bellow rent the air, and suddenly the murmuring turned to screams as people began fleeing. As the crowds parted, Mitch found the large, dark shape of a gorilla barreling through a set of armed guards. With a roar of challenge it charged, ignoring the gunfire and aiming straight for the open elevator. Jamie clutched at his jacket, her fingers pinching the back of his arm as she peered over his shoulder. He pressed back immediately, putting her firmly in the corner of the elevator car as the doors began to close.
Ivankov lurched forward. "Sabine! Tasha!"
"Get back!" His guard pushed him away from the doors, preventing him from holding them open and exposing them to the murderous ape. The doors closed just in time, but they all jumped back as the doors shook violently under the impact of the gorilla on the other side. The entire car rocked as the beast pounded against the metal, and Mitch braced himself against the wall as Jamie clung to his arm. Finally the car began to rise, but enough damage had been done. It shuddered to a stop soon after as the entire elevator was plunged into darkness.
"Tasha!" Ivankov cried again, and this time his voice was filled with grief.
Mitch could feel Jamie trembling behind him, her breaths rapid and shallow in his ear. How the hell had gorillas gotten into the embassy? He could guess how they'd breached the walls - ten foot high concrete barriers weren't really a problem for an animal that strong, especially with the trees that surrounded the property. The question was, why did they decide to do so now?
He could still hear the faint sound of screaming as the carnage continued downstairs, and Ivankov was already reaching for the doors as the emergency lights came on. "We have to go back down there!"
"We will, sir!" The guard was pushing the fire button, hoping to contact anyone on the outside. "Hold on!"
Mitch stepped away from the wall, giving Jamie some room as he reached for his phone.
"There's security everywhere," she said. He could hear the notes of panic in her voice. "I'm sure Tasha and Sabine are safe."
"There's no one picking up," Ivankov cursed and pushed back from the panel and started trying to wedge the doors open.
"No signal," Mitch tucked his phone back into his pocket with a sigh of disgust. "Which should be expected, 'cause we're in a metal box."
"Yeah, well, we gotta get out of the metal box." Jamie seemed to have stuffed her panic back down, and Mitch envied her composure. He was about three seconds from losing his own when the elevator lurched again and a loud boom resonated from somewhere above them. The gorilla had found its way into the elevator shaft, on the hunt for its prey.
Mitch glanced up as they all ducked instinctively. "See, this is where being in a metal box works in our favor."
They all fell silent as the gorilla bellowed again, closer than before. They all held their breath, hoping that it would leave them alone and bypass them. Silence fell over the car, and Mitch reached for Jamie's hand.
He never found it. The emergency hatch at the top of the elevator exploded open as the enraged beast snarled, reaching blindly down into the elevator. Jamie jumped back with the guard as Mitch ducked the opposite direction. Ivankov crouched next to him, his entire body tensed and trembling as the gorilla raged above them.
Mitch looked across at Jamie, just feet away but out of reach. She had pressed herself against the side wall, huddled low. He could tell by the look on her face that she was terrified; he probably had the same expression on his. In the space of two heartbeats she glanced up, blue eyes locking with brown, and nodded. She was okay.
He blew out a breath of relief that was short-lived as the large, hairy arm groped for anything to mangle. The hatch had stopped halfway open, stopping it from dropping down. Mitch was grateful for small miracles. If that thing got inside, there would be no escape. All four of them would die gruesome deaths. Since the start of this crazy journey, Mitch had pictured a dozen ways that he and his friends could die. He could honestly say that being beaten to death by a great ape was low on his list of ways to go.
Frustrated at its inability to reach them, the gorilla reared back. The second it retreated the minister's guard sprang into action. He reached up for the grate, pushing it up as Ivankov joined him. Mitch could hear the gorilla thrashing in the space above them, searching for a way inside. They needed to act fast.
Mitch kept low as he crossed over to Jamie and pulled her to the back of the elevator. A long handrail was screwed into the wall, and a quick test proved it could be ripped away fairly easily. She caught on quickly, wrapping her hands around the metal bar and pulled with him.
"Hurry!" They'd managed to close the hatch, but the gorilla was pushing back. Mitch spared a small portion his brain to calculate the force needed to hold it back and wasn't encouraged by their chances.
Mitch groaned as he worked the bar back and forth. "Not all of us are built like you, Mr. Clean!"
Angry grunts and snarls filled the space, and Mitch heard Ivankov's guard yell something. Without another word, he yanked the hatch open and fired his gun up into the darkness. One, two, three... Mitch counted the shots as he winced against the deafening noise. The gorilla stopped, and Ivankov peered up into the hole warily.
"Is he dead?"
The guard lowered his weapon. "I think so."
Mitch wasn't convinced. Three shots from a handgun would do little to slow down a crazed gorilla. Before he could mention it, a hairy, black hand reached down and grabbed Mr. Clean by the face. He screamed as he was yanked upward, through the hatch and into the shaft. The gun barked again, and Mitch lurched forward.
"Shut that!" He turned back to the handrail and began shaking it up and down as he tried to drown out the sound of the agonizing screams above them. Jamie joined in, and after a few more seconds the rail came free. Mitch wedged one end into the hatch then propped the other end against the wall, bracing it in the molding to keep it from slipping. Mitch grimaced as a viscous, red substance began to trickle down through the holes in the grate and he tried not to think about the Russian man who was likely now just a bloody pulp.
The gorilla was still up there, its anger not abated by the kill it had made. They were safe for now, but that wouldn't last long.
"We have to get out of here."
Mitch agreed with the minister, but with the emergency operations out of order and the rampaging gorilla above them, they were running out of options. The rail shook as the animal tried to force its way in, but it held.
"We gotta get these doors open," Jamie stepped up and tried to slip her fingers in between the seam. Mitch rose to help her. They were running out of time, and he could only hope they'd gone high enough to reach another floor. If they got these doors open and found nothing but a wall, they would likely die here.
He knew he should probably say something meaningful - that now would be a good time to remind her how much he loved her and that if given the chance to do it all over again he'd make that call and invite her to lunch. He wanted to tell her that she'd changed his life for the better. wanted to thank her for bringing light and warmth into his otherwise cold and dark life.
But he'd never been great under pressure and sarcastic was his default setting.
"Just in case we can't," he huffed as she got a grip on one of the doors, "have I thanked you lately for dragging me into this insanity?" He had the other, and he threw his body weight back in an effort to prise the doors open.
She grunted in reply, straining as she pulled again. "Come to think of it, no."
"Thank you," he matched her flat smile. "Been a real treat." Ivankov yelled something that was drowned out by the pounding from above. "You know, I could have waited out the animal apocalypse from the comfort of my couch."
Her face was a mask of concentration tinged with fear, but he saw the corner of her mouth slant upward slightly as she glanced at him. "Where's the fun in that?"
Ivankov turned his head. "You two should get a bigger room!"
Mitch threw Jamie a grin at his words, wagging his eyebrows at the suggestion just as the doors gave and came apart, revealing the top half of a second set of doors. Luck was on their side - they had stopped just above the next floor.
The second set of doors came open much easier than the first, and Mitch slipped down first before turning to help Jamie out. Ivankov came last and as soon as he was clear Mitch laid his palms flat against the doors and pushed them together again, sealing them off from the still-angry gorilla trying to force its way down into the car.
When he turned back, Jamie had stopped one of the frightened people scurrying around. "Excuse me, do you know what's happening?"
"The animals are still in the lobby," the woman said fearfully. "The police are here but we don't know if they've contained them. We don't know where to go."
Mitch angled away from the woman and leaned in to keep his words from carrying. "If that gorilla gets out here he's gonna slaughter all these people. And us," he added as an afterthought.
"Fireman key," Jamie said suddenly.
"There's no fireman or key." Ivankov grumbled.
Jamie ignored him and hurried on, and he could practically see the plan coming together in her mind. "If we can jam the key we can send the elevator back down to the lobby. It'll take the gorilla with it."
Mitch was struck dumb for a moment at the brilliance of her mind. He opened his mouth to make a comment about beauty and brains, but what came out was something entirely different.
"Marry me?"
Ivankov swore in Russian as Jamie gaped at him like a fish.
"Never mind," Mitch rushed on, glancing around for anything that could be used to enact her plan. His eyes fell on the woman still hovering just out of earshot, then down to her shoes. "Hi, excuse me. Can I borrow your shoe?"
"What?"
Jamie seemed to have recovered from her shock as she caught on to his train of thought. "Oh, yeah, give him your shoe." She held out a hand to steady to the woman as she slipped the three inch heel off and handed it over. Jamie passed it to Mitch, but as he took it she gripped it tighter and leaned forward. "We'll talk about this later."
He grimaced as he wrapped his hands around the heel and the shoe, applying enough pressure until it snapped. He held it up triumphantly, but Jamie snatched it from his grasp quickly.
"We gotta get back in there."
He could tell from her body language and tone that he wasn't going to like the next part of this plan. Ivankov didn't seem to like it either.
"You can't do that," he protested. "It will kill you!"
"We'll be fine," Jamie promised with a lot more confidence than Mitch felt. "Just get these people someplace safe."
A moment passed between them before the minister nodded solemnly and turned to the still-panicking masses. "Everybody come with me!" He disappeared around a corner with three or four people in tow, looking every bit the calm, collected leader he should.
"Alright," Jamie glanced back up at the closed elevator doors with a look that was part determination and part terror. "I've got to get all the way back in the elevator, jam the key, then get back out before it cuts me in half."
Mitch could feel his own white-hot terror creeping up his spine. "Sounds good. I'll watch."
A withering stare was her answer. "You have to hoist me up."
"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill." There wasn't any piece of this plan he liked - he particularly hated the part where she had to get back in the elevator - but he didn't have a better one and they were out of time.
"Well, try to do it before King Kong rips my throat out, okay?"
He wanted to reply, tell her morbid humor was his thing and could she just stick to ribbing him about his work hours and not throw herself in the path of a bloodthirsty monster? But it got stuck in his throat and he could only mumbled an agreement as she reopened the doors and eyed her angle of attack. The ceiling was beginning to buckle under the combined pressure of the gorilla's weight and his constant pounding.
"You ready?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she nodded briskly. "Ready as I'll ever be."
He bent his knees and interlocked his fingers to create a cradle for her foot. She put one hand over his shoulders and held tight to the broken heel as she used his strength to raise herself up into the elevator. It wasn't quite low enough that she could sit on the floor, so Mitch held her weight against his arm as she reached for the panel.
The gorilla raged on above her head, roaring and smashing, trying to get at the small woman below. Mitch felt Jamie straining to reach, and he shuffled his feet beneath him to give her a little bit more lift. It didn't work. The grate at the ceiling buckled slightly as the rail they had braced against it broke into pieces.
Mitch panicked. "That's it, I'm pulling you out."
"No!" she raised up on her toes and he had to adjust the grip he had on her legs to keep her from climbing up into the elevator completely. "I can almost reach it!" A few more tense seconds went by as the gorilla grew more agitated, emboldened by the caving grate beneath him. "Okay, now! Now!"
He released her legs quickly, letting gravity pull her as his hands moved to shield her head from impacting the top of the door. The elevator gave a soft ding that was drowned out by the four hundred pound behemoth that came crashing through the ceiling at last. But the doors were already closing, and as it stood it could only roar in defiance as the car descended back toward the lobby.
Mitch grabbed Jamie around the middle as she stumbled to catch her footing. He held tightly in both support and relief. She ended up flush against his chest and he made no move to put distance between them as she caught her breath. He could feel her heartbeat pounding against his chest, even through their layers, and as she glanced up he tried to offer a reassuring smile.
"I'm okay," she whispered. She tried to take some of her weight back but the fast-fading adrenaline left her off balance and weak. Her knees buckled and he barely had enough time to reach out and slow her fall to the floor. He angled her against the cool metal door of the elevator and lowered himself beside her.
"Nice work," he said after a few quiet seconds.
"Wish I could say the same." Her breathing had evened back out but her voice still held the tight, tense notes of fear. "You panicked. Almost pulled me too soon."
He had. At any moment that animal could have come for her, grabbed her, beaten her to death right in front of his eyes, and there would have been nothing he could do. Just the thought made his hands clench on his knees and he forced himself to take a breath.
"Well," he injected a lot more levity into his tone than he felt, "you've already lost a toe for this team. I think losing an arm - or a head - would just be showing off."
She laughed at that, a breath escaping just a bit faster than normal as her mouth curved upward. Her smaller fingers slipped over his, loosening the grip on his legs as she laid her head against his shoulder. "Guess we've always been a pretty good team, huh?"
"Uh, yeah," he shifted a little to press his leg along hers. Their fingers wove together and settled in his lap, though his thumb still moved back and forth over her smooth skin as a reminder that she was real and solid next to him. "Guess we do."
"Be a shame to break up a set."
"What?" His mind was adept at making leaps of logic of varying distances, but sometimes her thoughts spun so far out that he couldn't follow.
"Your question," she clarified without actually clearing anything up. "Earlier?"
"Oh."
"Did you mean it?"
"I, uh," he cleared his throat softly and thought about her question. Or, rather, his question. It had sort of slipped out between his teeth before he could clamp down on it, but now that it was out there he didn't want it back. He didn't often allow himself the indulgence of future fantasies, but if he let his mind stretch beyond this moment he realized he couldn't imagine a single moment of his life to come without her. He'd already lived like that once - it wasn't a scenario he was keen on repeating.
"Yeah," he breathed finally. "I mean...not right now, obviously. And I think as proposals go I could probably do better with a little more prep time. But eventually…"
"Eventually," she agreed with a satisfied smile he hadn't seen on her face in a long time. It had been absent so long he'd forgotten what hope looked like on her. It was good, and he felt a surge of pride at being the one who'd brought it back for her. He nudged her head with his nose softly, and when she lifted it from his shoulder he leaned in to kiss her.
"Anybody up here?"
The voice interrupted them, and they leaned away from each other quickly like teenagers caught necking in a car. Jamie laughed at something - probably him - as she answered. A man in black military garb stepped around the corner.
"Lobby's been secured. It's safe to come back down."
Mitch stood and helped Jamie to her feet. He asked her silently if she was alright and she answered with a quick nod of her head. The hand he wasn't holding was shaking slightly, but he thought only he noticed it as they followed the man back to the stairwell.
They emerged onto the ground floor amid dozens of voices calling for help, for family and friends, for people who could no longer hear them. Mitch felt Jamie stiffen next to him and he squeezed her hand gently as they surveyed the carnage. Bodies littered the floor, covered by plain white cloths stained red in places. Mitch had worked in enough emergency rooms that the scene halted him for only a moment. Jamie fared worse.
"Oh my God." Her free hand was covering her mouth, and as they passed a set of draped bodies with arms still outstretched toward one another she turned her head into his shoulder and closed her eyes.
In the center of the room sat Ivankov and his wife, the smaller woman curled into her husband as she wept silently. Allison stood next to them offering quiet condolences, but as she caught sight of Mitch and Jamie she stepped away.
"I came back as soon as I heard about the attack," she explained. Her eyes followed Jamie's to the Russian minister and his wife. "Their daughter was killed, along with fourteen other people."
To Mitch's surprise, Jamie found her voice before him. "They're not...uh, they're not still on board. Are they?"
"Would you be?" Her tone wasn't harsh, just blunt, and Jamie shook her head.
"Well, this doesn't change the facts," Mitch argued quietly. "The Noah Objective is still gonna cost many, many more lives in the long run."
"Try explaining to a man whose daughter was just murdered by a crazed gorilla that any plan to rid the world of crazed gorillas isn't a plan worth pursuing." She sighed. "I gave everything I had to this team. I believed in what we were doing. But we lost. We just played our last card." Her entire body was sagged in defeat and Mitch thought she'd never looked smaller. She wore her attitude like an armor, big and bold and sure. He supposed she had to, to survive in this town. But now she just looked...worn out. "The gas is going to drop and the world is never going to be same. We made the animals our enemies, the monsters. But we're the monsters. And now we're going to punish them for our mistakes."
It was the most profound statement he'd ever heard her make, and it was to announce that she was giving up. Davies had won. All of the reasons he'd grown to detest her presence faded away as he grasped at the last few strands of their hope for survival. "No, look, we'll find another way."
"For the first time in my life I wish that you were right and I was wrong. The plane is all yours, but I have to get back to work. I couldn't help you save the animals, but I can help the people of this country try and survive whatever comes next." She glanced at Jamie for a moment, then gave them a flat smile. "I, uh, wish the best for you both." Before Mitch could say anything else she lifted herself up to kiss his cheek briefly before disappearing out the door.
The sound of her footsteps faded, leaving only the low, clipped chatter of medical personnel and the soft, keening cries of Sabine Ivankov.
"Come on." Mitch turned to leave, unable to witness the horrific scene a moment longer.
Jamie hesitated behind him, her eyes still stuck on the draped bodies littering the lobby. "We can't just leave them," she protested weakly.
"We can't do anything more for them," he reasoned, pitching his voice low so it wouldn't carry across the marble foyer. "Right now we need to focus on getting that last animal and finishing the cure."
"How?" she swiped angrily at a tear that escaped from her eyes. "How can we possibly hope to do that before the Noah Objective launches?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I was going to stand here and wish really hard." He hadn't meant to sound so callous, but seeing the hope she'd so recently regained vanish once more behind her veil struck a nerve. She flinched slightly and he instantly regretted his tone. "Look," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it further. It had been too long since he'd seen a barber and it was completely unmanageable at this length. Fortunately his current day job didn't have a strict dress code. Jamie had crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes looking anywhere but his face. She knew he was right; she was also just as stubborn as he was. "I know things look bad but I'm not giving up now. Not when we're this close."
"Fine," Jamie seemed to relent, though her tone had hardened. "So we need to get back to the plane, find some mysterious island, hunt down a sabertooth cat, synthesize a cure, and figure out how to deliver said cure to every animal on the planet. All in less than two days' time. That about cover it?" She quirked one eyebrow at him and he stifled a bark of laughter. Given the somber blanket of grief that had settled over the area, Mitch thought amusement might not be the most appropriate emotion right now.
He settled for a muted smile. "Yep." His phone buzzed in his pocket and Jamie's followed his movement as he fished it from his pocket. The smirk on his face melted away at the words on his screen.
"What is it?" Jamie shuffled closer to glance at the message.
"Allison," he sighed. "She said the plane had to take off to avoid Davies and is currently off the radar. Someone had Trotter turn off the transponder."
"So we're stuck here?"
He didn't answer her somewhat rhetorical question - it was quite obvious they were stuck - and instead found Abe's number in his contacts.
"Mitch," the man's accented voice was tinged with relief. "We heard about the attack at the Russian Embassy. Are you and Jamie alright?"
"Yeah, we're fine," he said. Jamie caught his eye and he shook his head silently. "Allison just texted and said you had to take off?"
"Jackson came back with his father and we took off so Davies couldn't follow."
"Jackson's father is there? A little heads up would have been nice," he snapped. "Did everyone forget I'm the leader of this insane crew?"
"We were a little busy fending off F-18s," Abe shot back curtly. "Next time, however, we'll be sure to stop what we're doing and send you a memo."
Mitch pointedly ignored the sarcasm behind the words. "Thank you." Then the other man's words sunk in and he sputtered. "F-18s?"
"Davies scrambled jet fighters from a carrier since we flew out of US air space. Currently we are en route to Pangaea."
Mitch heard a man's muffled voice over the line asking for the phone. There was a slur of static before Jackson spoke. "Mitch, listen, we're sorry. We can't come back for you and Jamie. My father knows about Pangaea. He gave me the coordinates. He also mentioned something about the Shepherds."
"Jackson," Mitch raised an eyebrow. "You sound...less crazy." Next to him, Jamie looked on expectantly. At Jackson's name she perked up curiously.
"My father gave me something, a pill. I don't know what was in it, but it seems to be fighting off the worst of the effects for now." Jackson took a breath, and when he spoke again it was quieter. "I'll send you the coordinates my father gave me. Maybe you and Jamie can meet us there. If not…"
"If not, then your father's going to have to manufacture the cure," Mitch finished for him. "Are you sure you can trust him?"
"No," Jackson let out a humorless laugh. "But we don't really have much of a choice, do we?"
"No," Mitch glanced down at his scuffed shoes and closed his eyes. "We don't. Listen, just be careful."
"You too," Jackson returned. "Take care of each other. Hopefully we'll see you soon." The line disconnected, leaving Mitch standing alone with Jamie. His phone buzzed once, and he glanced down at the series of numbers that he knew would be the location of Pangaea. With another sigh he thumbed the phone off and slid it back into his pocket.
"Looks like we're on our own."