Wow, this week conspired to distract me from all of my duties. That was fun! I hope you're finding it helpful and not just overwhelming to suddenly have free options all over the internet to learn, enjoy, and do things. (and here I am, cheerfully contributing to our delinquencies... :-D )
Living Lucid Dream, thank you - I enjoyed your review immensely! I'm glad that Jug's shift toward somewhat normal teenager behavior is making sense, and agreed: GPS ON. :-D Brand probably needs more scenes involving him at work, because he does have these fun dynamics that come out here and there, and I suspect that garden variety coworker chat would be revealing. Maybe soon. :) I am so glad you continue to like Gunnar! I love my OCs too much, and it's always a relief to hear they're contributing and not getting in the way of the story. :) And yeah... Clark walked straight into serious doings, so a super-fast escalation was probably inevitable. This was not one of Jug's stumble-into-something-and-everyone-reacts situations where it develops more gradually. We'll see if he makes it out safely! :-D You made me laugh with your reaction to the WORST plan, too. He's got his logic, but perhaps Jughead takes after Brand when he panics: things devolve speedily. People are watching him, though, and actually communicating with each other. It's a whole new world! :)
Enjoy!
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"Will you come with me after we pack up?" Gunnar wasn't even fully offstage before he was grabbing Alice by the hands and twirling her. "We should see if there's any adrenaline left in either of us. Go on anything and everything. Shut the park down, you and me."
Alice could not deny that she was feeling just as (or perhaps only 'almost as'?) energized as Gunnar by the amazing set she'd just experienced from only a few feet away.
"Count me in!" Archie was suddenly there as well, and Veronica, both laughing. "Otherwise I'm going to need to run ten miles or something. That was-,"
"That was incredible." Mr. Andrews stepped forward from where he'd been watching backstage as well. "It was - I mean - you're a professional, Archie. You all are." Mr. Andrews gestured to include Gunnar and Veronica.
"Technically, I guess." Archie grinned. "We got paid to play, and that's the definition."
"And I think that may not be the last of our being paid to perform," Veronica contributed. "If that was in any way an audition for more gigs, we are so in - I think we knocked it out of the park."
"Go celebrate. Have some fun while the park's still open," Mr. Andrews urged. "I can oversee things here and get everything packed up."
"Really? That would be amazing, Dad. Where's Jug? We should all go hit the rides together and do this up right." Archie looked around.
"Betty won't want to miss it," Veronica agreed. "Weren't they standing somewhere over there?"
"I don't know. I don't think I saw anything but a blur of faces for most of the set." Archie's grin was still widening. "I feel amazing. Do you think it always feels this good?"
"It couldn't. It's impossible." Gunnar was moving restlessly now, spinning a drumstick in one hand and then twirling Alice again. "Or nobody would do drugs."
Alice laughed. "You're acting like hard work and a whole lot of luck didn't go into making this incredible. I think people do drugs because they wish that they were you, right here and right now. Not everybody gets this experience."
"You do, though," Gunnar suddenly looked worried, "right? Like I said, you're with the band. This is your night too, Alice."
"No drugs will be necessary, don't worry," Alice confirmed, laughing again. "Man, you are right about the adrenaline. Let's find the others and do something! I am so full of - I don't even know what."
"Vim and vigor," Gunnar pronounced. "I'm pretty sure that's what this is."
"I'll text Jughead and we'll just go," Archie decided. "They can catch up. There's no time to waste."
They headed into the night, Kevin Keller falling into step with congratulations once they exited the backstage area, to resume their tour of the roller coasters.
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Jughead tried to explain again, but his dad wasn't listening. Or else he was willfully misinterpreting everything Jughead said. It was really frustrating.
"So Clark took off after some criminals, told you to keep it a secret and sneak off to meet him by tracking his phone's GPS, and you thought 'Yeah, that sounds smart. Someone shot my father and sent a death threat to Clark, and I'm still injured, but why not make it two against four?' Real smart, Jughead."
Jughead sneaked a look at Betty, who looked torn between sympathy for him - and sympathy for his dad's position on the subject. Great.
They were tracking Clark's phone GPS since he'd turned it on for Jughead, and it seemed to lead toward a haunted house - but toward the back of it, and not the area that was just getting ready to open for the evening.
A costumed park employee scuttled into FP's personal space, pacing him menacingly for a few moments before Jughead's dad turned to fix him with a glare that had the actor raising his hands in submission and hurrying away.
"And if one more ghoulish employee comes at me, I will not be held responsible for-,"
Betty's shriek startled both of the Jones men. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Someone had apparently gotten a little too close to her.
Betty was reaching toward a man in a ragged top hat and artfully torn suit who was backing away from her swiftly. "I didn't mean to- but you just came out of nowhere, and- are you okay?"
"I'm fine, miss. Just, uh, here." The man groped in his pocket and produced a glowing pendant. "Wear this, will you? Nobody else will come near you. Don't tell anyone I gave it to you, though - we're supposed to charge ten bucks."
"Hang on." FP held up a hand to stop the man's retreat and pulled a twenty out of his wallet. "Got a couple more of those?"
The man handed over two more and FP secured one so that it was visible on his back and then did the same for Jughead. "They really like to come up behind us, and that's the bigger issue for right now."
"Uh, Dad," Jughead peered at the app on his phone. "Clark's GPS signal is gone."
"He turned it on so you could find him. He wouldn't turn it off, would he?"
"Not willingly." Jughead's expression fell as he absorbed the ramifications of his own statement. He took off running.
"Jughead!" FP sprinted a few steps after him, but then stopped and turned around to face Betty. "Get Davies. Send him to that building we've been heading toward, and make sure that he's armed."
Betty nodded and was pulling out her phone when FP ran off into the night.
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"They what?" Brand was jogging while he spoke on the phone to Betty. He actually wasn't far from where the warrior queen was directing him, but this was sounding very bad. If SAC Wilson wanted to avoid problematic optics, jogging wasn't going to cut it.
Brand hung up the phone and took off at a full run, blessing Agent Sarah silently as he did so. She'd suggested that he carry his service weapon in the park like the rest of the FBI, mostly for solidarity, even though he wasn't under the same requirements as the other agents.
That might save the RA a whole lot of egg on their faces if Brand needed to stop some sort of confrontation between Clark, Jones, and some petty rule-breakers who had balked at the steep prices of the amusement park's libations.
Brand could only pray that he'd be in time to stop whatever it was that Clark and Jones had cooked up.
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Betty made it to the building just behind the others, but hesitated there. She wasn't sure what she could contribute, and didn't want to get in the way. It seemed foolish to just stand around outside, though.
Clicking on her phone's camera app, Betty pulled up the flashlight feature as well. She might as well document whatever they were up to, just in case that came in handy later.
After all, this seemed ominously like the kind of situation that could lead to a lawsuit, and footage might prove useful.
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Clark grunted behind his gag. His muscles were still protesting the tasering, and he wondered if his assailants had exceeded the recommended settings for training scenarios when they'd taken him down.
This was a severely unpleasant sort of red teaming setup; it might be that the FBI felt the need to take this sort of thing seriously, but Clark would really appreciate a little less verisimilitude.
Especially since he'd been dragged into a dark, cavernous utility portion of a building, forced to stand shakily against a steel support pole, and then duct taped so tightly and thoroughly against the metal that he could barely move.
Clark's eyes followed the four men as they rifled through his wallet, looking from his ID back at him as if to make absolutely sure that they had the right person duct taped to a pole, and then as they stomped on his phone. Again, this all seemed unnecessarily realistic. Clark was going to see that Special Agent Davies reprimanded them as soon as the red teaming was done.
Or else this wasn't red teaming... and it actually had everything to do with the death threat that Clark had received.
Clark closed his eyes for a few seconds and was embarrassed to hear a whimper in his own throat as he was forced to face facts: that was quickly becoming the more likely explanation for his predicament.
When one of the men pulled out a small switchblade, Clark found himself desperately hoping that Jones was on his way and that he had broken his word - and gotten the whole of the FBI involved.
"Make it quick, and don't worry about any mess. It'll just look like part of the costume if you get drenched, and we'll be out of here in no time."
Clark felt the whine rising up in his throat again as the man strode toward him purposefully. He shook his head and his hair fell in front of his eyes as he tried mutely to persuade the man not to hurt him - but that was as much as he could manage with his body so strictly taped in place.
The man did not even hesitate when he saw Clark's distress and frantic protests.
Clark jerked his head back from the knife and the pole clanged dully as his skull cracked into it.
"This is going to be disgusting." The man holding the knife grimaced and stepped to one side of Clark while raising the blade to the opposite side of his captive's throat. "Try and bleed that way, will you?"
Clark screamed bloody murder through the tape gag, knowing he wasn't likely to get another chance to summon attention - help - anything.
And suddenly a flashlight appeared in the dim area, just as Jones dropped from the dark rafters above them - directly onto the knife-wielding man.
Clark felt tears spilling over his face as the knife fell away from him and the man who had been holding it was taken to the floor and viciously attacked by the younger intern.
There were still three other men, but by the time it occurred to Clark to worry about them, it was obvious that FP Jones had also arrived.
And that FP was very angry. He had also managed to procure some sort of blunt weapon.
"Everybody freeze!" Special Agent Davies' voice rang out in the echoing space. "Jones! Stop beating that guy to a pulp. I've got my service weapon, and I've got everyone covered. Hey, FP, you too. Stop - uh, what are you doing? Cut that out. He's very sorry for whatever he did."
"He was pulling a knife to attack my son," FP answered roughly, his voice straining with continued exertion. "You can take a walk if you want, Brandon. I could use another five minutes with this guy, and the other two are down for the count."
Clark blinked another round of relieved tears from his eyes and tried to see past the flashlight that was blinding him to Special Agent Davies, because it sounded like he was trying - with only partial success - not to laugh at whatever FP was doing.
"Brand, they were going to kill Clark. I think they're the same people who came after Dad." Jughead stood up over the groaning, severely injured man he'd been thrashing and kicked the knife far away into a dark corner of the utility room.
Clark tried to take a deep breath through his nose, but his breathing seemed to catch in his throat and he choked. He coughed as well as he could through his nose and then managed a deep breath.
"Oh crap, I need that knife. Sorry, Clark. Don't suffocate. If you lose your airway, just scream like hell and I'll help you. For now I'm going to find the knife." Jones moved away into the darker portions of the large room.
"Why would you think that they're the same people who-," Special Agent Davies suddenly took a couple of defensive steps backward. "Jones, stay back. FP, get away from that guy. I want all four covered, and nobody in hostage range. Move it, old man. If Jones is right, they're a whole lot more dangerous than we were thinking."
"Are you filming this, Betty?" FP was slightly out of breath as he spoke, but he was moving to obey Davies.
"Yes." Betty sounded the least shaky of anyone. "In case anyone questions the facts later."
"Uh-huh." FP sounded surprised, but also admiring. "That's not a bad idea."
"I've got the knife!" Jughead proclaimed proudly. "Can I untie Clark?"
Clark nodded emphatically, but then Special Agent Davies spoke up again.
"Give me a minute to get backup before you go anywhere near the guy you trashed, kid. We're not taking chances with this turning into a hostage situation."
That seemed fair. Clark tried to keep that in mind as Davies made a series of phone calls and the minutes ticked by as they waited for Agent Quinn, Williams, and even SAC Wilson to arrive before Special Agent Davies came over to join Jughead.
"All right, kid. Let's cut Clark loose. Quinn wants to talk to your girlfriend about the footage she took, so I think they're leaving now to figure that out. What's this?" Brand reached to lift the glowing pendant from Jughead's back.
"Dad got them so we wouldn't accidentally kill anyone who works here."
"Oh. Smart. Okay." Brand let it drop back against his spine. "Although you're very lucky that nobody spotted you with that thing around your neck."
"I'm not an idiot, Brand. I tucked it under my shirt, and it only fell out while I was taking down the assassin who was trying to hurt Clark. Can you get his gag? You're better at that." Jones knelt down and started slicing the tape around Clark's legs.
"You got it. Hold still, Clark. I'm not going to hurt you." Davies smoothed Clark's hair so that it was back out of his eyes and gave him a sympathetic look before he began slowly and gently working the tape away from his face.
"We're going to knock those guys into the middle of next week for touching you," Brand continued talking to Clark as he worked, pausing to make eye contact from time to time. "You're going to have to tell me exactly what happened, but for what it's worth I'm seeing good things. You got a costume from somewhere, which was a bright move. And you evaded these four for at least a couple of hours. Something is very wrong about all this, and you need to actually call me next time something like this comes up, but otherwise... I'm impressed."
Clark was surprised by how much of a relief it was to hear that from Special Agent Davies. He was overwhelmingly mortified by his mistakes now that he wasn't staring down imminent death.
"You should breathe with him, Brand. Make sure that he doesn't hyperventilate. Trigger and I can sleep in your room tonight, Clark." Jones offered, stopping his progress with the knife for a moment so that he could pat Clark's left knee reassuringly. "We'll make hot chocolate and watch movies."
"Uh, maybe. That's my room too, you know," Davies interjected as he continued to slowly pry the tape gag free. "I think you're breathing okay, Clark, but let's make sure you keep that up. Slow and even, and just focus on me and Jones right now. It's a good thing you shaved today, too. This is coming off fairly cleanly."
FP came over and crouched next to Jones. "Jughead, we need to talk."
"Later, Dad. Clark's still tied up, and we're trying to keep him calm."
"Oh, I got that. Loud and clear." FP's voice was frustrated. "I also saw you come flying from wherever you'd climbed to attack one of four armed men - while he was holding an open blade."
"Time was of the essence. We needed the element of surprise, and I knew that you were right behind me."
Clark wished that Davies had the tape off of his face, because he had some contributions he wouldn't mind making to this discussion.
"The wolf pack doesn't do solo rescues, Jones," Davies weighed in firmly. "You need to coordinate with us when you're trying something. We work best together, and that means all three of us. Your father, rest his soul, did the right thing."
Both Jughead and FP gave Brand a look.
"Bless his soul? I didn't mean that he was dead. What's that southernism?"
"Yeah, that wasn't it, Brand." Jones was cutting through the last of the tape around Clark's ankles. Finally. "I'll get your wrists next, once I have some more light. I don't want to cut you by accident."
"Easy does it." Davies was pulling the last of the duct tape off of Clark's face, and at the same time reaching to support some of his weight. "Are you okay? You seem really shaky, Clark."
"They tasered me."
"Oh. Ouch." Brand's expression twisted sympathetically.
"Seriously? What does that feel like?" Jones asked eagerly.
"Not good." Clark was starting to feel exhausted as his muscles continued to protest the simple task of holding him upright. "They must have spotted me, because they got the drop on me. I fought them and nearly got away, but then they tasered me in the back."
"Badass." Jones grinned at him. "One against four is crazy, Clark."
That felt good to hear too. "Thanks, MacGyver. And thank you for jumping in when you did. No offense, Mr. Jones; I know you're not thrilled that he-,"
"No, Clark - that... came out wrong. I'm not saying Jughead should have let you get hurt or that it wasn't worth the risk. I'm saying that he should have gotten help sooner so that it didn't come to this." FP took the knife from Jughead and felt carefully around the duct tape on Clark's arms before cutting his forearms and wrists free. "There you go. I'd much rather it had been me or Brandon dealing with the switchblade. That's all I meant."
Clark was finally able to bring his hands up to his face and wipe away the tears that were still clinging to his eyelashes and cheeks.
"Come on; sit down before you collapse." Davies lowered Clark carefully to the floor. "They probably hit you with a lot of charge. You'll be unsteady for a while, but it's not likely to do any lasting damage."
Clark nodded, relieved to hear that.
"What made you so sure that they were red teaming?" Brand figured that he should find out that much at least before working with SAC Wilson on coordinating with local law enforcement.
"I thought…" Clark rubbed his forehead wearily. "Well, they said something about someone named Don. My mind went straight to former SAC Donn, which was obviously really stupid."
Brand frowned. He seemed to be thinking things over and then he glared down at Jones, who gave him a worried look in reply and a helpless shrug. "No; don't act so innocent, kid. Nobody's buying what you're selling. We'll be having a long talk later."
Clark looked between the two of them in confusion.
Brand stood up, shook his shoulders out as if he was very tense, and he gave Jones one more warning look before he strode away to rejoin the rest of the FBI and help deal with the situation.
"Brand's... paranoid. You can just ignore him. Come here," Jones said. He scooted up alongside Clark and draped an arm over his shoulders. "I'm gonna stay right here until you feel up to walking. Brand's going to need to help the FBI, and-," Jones dropped his voice to a stage whisper, "-I could really use a buffer with Dad right now."
Clark looked at Jughead. It was a little awkward, but also reassuring. And he was still unsteady. Also, Jones might not be wrong: FP looked like he had a lot more aggression left to work out, even though he was rolling his eyes in response to his son's statement.
"Sure. Thanks." Clark relaxed into the younger intern.
"Any time, Clark." Jones hugged his shoulders tightly for a few moments. "Wingmen for life."
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"How do you do this all the time?" Clark was sprawled on his cot and Jughead had taken over the foot of Brand's bed while his godfather searched his movie streaming services for something 'palatable' to watch together.
Trigger seemed to intuit that Clark needed attention, and he was nosing up against his shoulder while Clark scratched behind his ears.
"Do what exactly? I don't get tasered and then nearly murdered often, Clark, if that's what you mean," Brand responded dryly.
"But you risk it. And you walked right in there tonight to protect me and Jones and FP from the assassins." Clark sighed. "Maybe I'm not cut out for FBI work after all. It's disappointing, but-,"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up just a second. Nobody is 'cut out for' getting attacked, subdued, and violently threatened." Brand sighed and set his laptop aside so that he could focus his full attention on the conversation.
"It is not a qualification to have no sense of self-preservation, either. You are becoming a valuable resource as you get more training and education, and even by making mistakes and learning from them. You thought you were scared - SAC Wilson probably came close to losing her cookies when she realized the investment we've made in you might not pay out."
"Yeah, right." Clark stared up at the ceiling. "She's just mad that I took off alone."
"You ever think about why that might be?"
"PR nightmare?"
Jughead and Clark had received quite the lecture from SAC Wilson - and a firm promise that the lecture would continue on Monday - before they'd been sent home for the night, so that was not a guess.
"Besides that. She wants you on the short list for hiring." Brand waited for Clark to process that.
A moment later Clark was sitting up eagerly on his cot. Trigger jumped up to follow his unexpected movement, licking Clark enthusiastically as he pushed the dog back from his face. "Are you serious?"
"I'm your only competition, Clark, so I wouldn't get too-," Jughead began before Brand cut him off by pulling him toward himself and forcing him into a loose headlock. "Brand, let me go. Trig will eat you alive."
"Knock it off, Jones. That's not true and you know it. He only gets upset if we're standing up and training, or if you get too whiny and he decides you need rescuing." Brand smirked when Trigger gave them a suspicious glance but then returned to licking Clark when Brand tousled his godson's hair before allowing Jughead to worm his way free and return to the foot of the bed.
"And hey, most interns don't get job offers. I shouldn't be telling you this, Clark, so keep your mouth shut about it, but Wilson's serious about getting you on payroll in the new year, and that plan didn't change tonight. So buck up."
"Yes, sir." Clark looked dazed for a few moments, and then he looked worried again. "But what if I crack up? What if I'm so worried about getting hurt or killed that I'm not functional-,"
"Once again, I'm serious about healthy fear not being disqualifying. What, do you think Williams would have held up any better?"
"Uh… yeah." Clark looked at Brand like he was crazy. "She's super tough."
"The only person I would trust to come out okay from what you went through today is Jones." Brand was silent for a beat to let that sink in. "I don't think it would be pretty, but I know he's good for it. Now I know that you are too. Nobody else is on that list."
Brand stopped to consider for a moment. "Maybe FP, but after Michigan I don't know that he's always good about loss of autonomy. I should tie him up again sometime to information-gather."
Jughead snorted and fell backward dramatically on Brand's bed. "I'll start planning your funeral. You thinking bagpipes? It will definitely be closed casket after Dad gets through with you."
"Calm down, kid, or I'll put you in a real headlock. And hey, if you behave maybe I'll let you help tie FP up for practice. Anyway, Clark, what I'm trying to say is that you were able to give me information right away, sit quietly with Jones until you got your sea legs under you, debrief with Wilson, and then walk out under your own power. You're here wondering how valuable you are to the FBI instead of shaking and rocking in a corner. You've got a backbone that's got nothing to do with false bravado."
"You think that Williams would-,"
"She'd have peed her pants and required an ambulance. Except she'd never have made it out alive, because she wouldn't have set up a dead man's switch with Jones like you did with your phone's GPS." Brand had decided that he was impressed once he'd gotten past being angry about their rogue actions. "And for the record, you can officially assume that nobody will ever red team you. You've more than passed any tests."
Clark raked a hand through his hair.
"I totally want to be you when I grow up," Jughead offered, seeing that Clark was not yet convinced. "Crazy smart, emphasis on the crazy. And totally down for anything that comes along, no matter how unqualified you are to actually handle it. Even your car is-,"
"Hey." Clark interrupted Jughead's teasing, but he grinned. "Don't knock the car."
"By the way… The boots are a lot deadlier than you mentioned," Jughead said.
"Oh yeah, we didn't even get to tell you about that." Brand laughed. "I'm going to find a movie now. Tell him the story, Jones, and figure out what you two want for snacks. Do you think your father's planning on joining us?"
"He has to finish talking to SAC Wilson on the phone first, but I think so." Jughead quirked his eyebrows at Clark as he prepared to tell the story. "So, we actually had a ride stall on us today. It was taking forever, so I got bored. Then Brand was saying…"
Brand smiled over at the interns before he returned to skimming the movie options. They were actually in some trouble, even though Brand was pretty sure that he could shield them from any fallout at the RA. SAC Wilson was certainly going to have words with Brand again before things died down, too.
But in his opinion those two were getting closer all the time to being full partners, both at work and at home. And he was darn proud of them.
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It's all coming together... :-D I'm really enjoying writing the 'down time' scenes, too, and I hope you're enjoying them as much as I am! I also hope you get some lovely down time of your own this weekend. Notes are loved and appreciated, too - I'd say even more because of social distancing, but I'll be real: I always love reviews, and might have already been right around max enjoyment of them. ;)
I hope you are able to stay safe and sane!
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