Chapter twenty-five! This one continues to sprawl, but no complaints from me... I'm having fun, and I hope you are too!
Living Lucid Dream, thanks so much for the review! Clark remains delightfully nerdy(!), and I'm enjoying seeing how Max navigates being so separate from everyone else while being (out of necessity) at the center of the action. He and FP could definitely have an interesting dynamic brewing, and the Serpents are probably sticking around for a bit... And yeah, hardened criminal school, maybe? :) I'm not sure, but Rose has a creative streak that seems to have been passed on. Yay for a breather and some heart-melting moments as we move toward more action! :)
Enjoy!
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"Are you packed? Veronica and Alice are already here," Archie heard his mother call from the hallway outside of his bedroom.
"We definitely should have rented a van," Archie said for what might have been the twentieth time. "This is going to be extremely crowded. Not to mention a long drive."
"Well, it's true that we weren't expecting quite so many people to be riding with us, but we'll make it work," Mary Andrews responded. She leaned into Archie's room. "It looks like you're all packed. Do you want to start loading up the car?"
They'd be taking Archie's mother's sedan to Toronto, and with five people in it - plus luggage for their stay - it promised to be uncomfortable. Particularly for the taller members of the road trip, Archie could not help thinking.
Archie also couldn't help but think that it was too bad that Mrs. Lodge had found out about Alice's transportation arrangement: riding double with Sweet Pea on his motorcycle.
Alice had insisted that she was buying proper gear and so it would all be entirely safe, but Archie had overheard part of the phone call from Hermione Lodge to his own mother, and the two mothers had laughed quite a bit at Alice's naive assumption that any parental figure would willingly sign off on that plan.
Even Archie knew to keep his mouth shut on that sort of thing, and he was not known for being the most stealth guy in the world.
Gunnar was driving up most of their gear in Archie's dad's pickup truck, and Sweet Pea had eventually agreed to ride up with him and bring his bike along in the bed of the truck. There had been a lot of head shaking and half-hidden smiles among the adults about the whole thing, but Archie thought they were all missing the main point here:
Alice had opted to ride with Sweet Pea. On a motorcycle, no less. And now Sweet Pea and Gunnar would be together - with no buffer - in a pickup truck for hours.
It didn't take a mind reader to see where this was heading. Archie's sole consolation was that only one of the people involved was actually in the band, so there would not be an internal rift in the group right before their first major exposure.
Aside from that, it all seemed like a recipe for way too much drama.
"Yeah, I can load up the car," Archie told his mother. "Did it look like the girls packed a lot?"
When his mother merely smiled and did not answer his question, Archie groaned.
"It's a big adventure, Arch," Mary chided him gently. "I'm sure they just want to be prepared."
Archie gave his mother a very fake, very pleasant smile, and she laughed.
When Archie's phone buzzed with an incoming call, his mother waved and left his room to give him privacy.
"Hey, Kevin. What's up?" Archie was surprised to hear from his friend, since Kevin knew that they were in the middle of getting on the road.
"Is there room for two more at Alice's house?" Kevin asked without preamble.
"Um, yeah. Sure. Are you and your dad-,"
"It's Joaquin. I really need to tell someone, but you cannot tell anyone about this," Kevin's voice had dropped in volume and Archie had to strain to hear him. "He's on some kind of a crusade to make amends, and apparently he's got access to way more information than anyone at the FBI is aware of - and he needs to go to Toronto right now."
"Joaquin broke out of witness protection?" Archie was horrified. "That's a terrible idea, Kevin. And so is traveling anywhere - especially out of the country - with him. Why can't he just 'make amends' by telling the FBI whatever he knows?"
"It's got something to do with FP Jones. I don't pretend to understand their relationship, but Joaquin insists that this is something he has to do. And, just for the record, I am fully aware that this is a terrible idea. That's why I'm going with him." Kevin's tone was firm, as if he had thought this through and believed that his logic was sound - but that it would not meet with approval from others. "So. Can we crash with you in Toronto?"
"My parents will be there," Archie reminded Kevin. "They'd be on the phone with the FBI in - literally - ten seconds."
"That's fine. Apparently whatever it is Joaquin wants to do will be done before we go to Alice's house. He said that he can be sent back - should be sent back - right after that."
Archie thought about that for a few seconds. Something wasn't adding up. "So, what… he needs a ride or something? Why would he call you?"
"Gee, thanks, Archie." Kevin sighed. "We're trying to communicate more. Joaquin knew I'd hit the roof if he did anything like this without telling me. And I'm insisting on going with him, so…"
"Oh. I guess that makes sense. Kind of. And yeah, there's plenty of room for you to crash at Alice's. Just do not tell my parents that I knew anything about this, okay?" Archie winced even as he said the words. "I'd get grounded from my own band's concert."
Kevin was quick to reassure him. "Of course. It's just going to be a few hours, anyway. We'll meet you there late tonight - or really early in the morning, most likely - and probably be on our way back to Riverdale tomorrow."
"Okay." It wasn't okay, but Archie figured it would be soon enough. "I guess I'll see you there."
"Thanks, Archie." Kevin hung up.
Archie hefted his own backpack onto his shoulder.
Somehow it felt a lot heavier than it had only a few minutes before.
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Brand was startled when the door to their dark cell was thrown open. Jones jerked awake, giving a pained groan.
"Up. Move." The man didn't seem at all surprised that they'd escaped their bonds. He held them at gunpoint, and Brand moved so that he was between Jones and the barrel of the handgun.
"We're coming." Jones sounded terrified and placating. "Please don't hurt us."
Brand shushed him, tucking him under one arm as they left the dark room and walked down a too-bright hallway. It was clearly past sundown from what he could see of the windows, which was heartening for the FBI's timeline, but they still needed to hold out for a little while longer.
Jones leaned into him heavily, and Brand rubbed the kid's shoulder as reassuringly as he could.
"He has no bullets," Jones' voice surprised Brand; he was nearly inaudible, even though he was easily within an inch of Brand's ear.
Brand tightened his grip around the kid; this was behavior that could get them into big trouble fast, and he didn't think Jones had any way of knowing whether…
As he processed the words, Brand turned toward Jones curiously, and was disconcerted by the look of smug confidence on the kid's face that in no way matched the fearful meekness he'd shown just moments before. Brand did not react, not wanting to call attention to them, but his mind raced with possibilities.
Maybe Jones had managed to pull something off. Maybe they were in a better position than Brand feared.
Maybe there were no bullets in the gun.
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"Are we clear?" Agent Williams had taken charge of Clark and Max, and for some reason Max seemed to be delighted by her barked orders and by her brusque explanations whenever Clark and Max were confused - which was definitely a more common phenomenon with Williams than with Agent Quinn.
"Yes, Agent Williams!" Max saluted, and though he did not sound sarcastic, both Williams and Clark turned to regard him suspiciously. "Will this count in my favor if I apply for an internship with the FBI someday?"
"Oh, for the love of-,"
"Of course it will," Clark interrupted, shooting Williams a quick warning look. They didn't need to do anything that might encourage Max to be any more unpredictable than he already was. "What do you think they care more about, your GPA or your hands-on experience helping the FBI with an international bust?"
Max crossed his arms. "So… no."
"I just said-,"
Agent Williams laughed. "He's not an idiot, Clark. You're both tourists on this one, and it's not going to count for much. Try not to make it count against you, though, huh?"
"Yes, Agent Williams." Max nodded resolutely.
Sarah emerged from her bedroom, where she'd been speaking privately with FP. "Are you three set? We should get moving."
"One last thing." Chloe Williams looked from Clark to Max and then back again. "Quinn and I are going to be busy - yet again, I know - so when it comes to you two the buck stops with FP. If he tells you to do something, you do it."
For a moment Agent Quinn looked like she might object, but then she merely turned to FP and shrugged. "That's a fair point. If something comes up and we can't give Clark guidance on the fly, you probably will have more information than anyone else. Is that all right with you?"
FP nodded to Agent Quinn. His expression was tight with worry, but he turned to give Clark a nod as well. "I'll let you know if I see things changing and nobody else can get an update to you."
"Thanks, FP." Clark's tone was reserved in the face of Mr. Jones' obvious distress, and he was increasingly nervous about what the others were not sharing with him about Jones and Davies. "We shouldn't need it."
"Huh. We have said that about an awful lot of things lately," FP declared darkly. "Just keep your eyes open, Clark."
Clark nodded, trying to ignore the fact that Max seemed only to be getting more energized by the rising tensions.
"We'll do our best not to let you down, FP," Max blurted out. He was still wearing the Serpents jacket, and Clark was beginning to wonder if Max was after FP's approval of Banjo's offer regarding honorary gang affiliation.
"I know, Max." FP's expression softened slightly. "And I appreciate that."
Max's relieved smile was entirely out of place in the tense atmosphere of the room, but he was as efficient as anyone when he snapped into action, leashing Trigger and gathering the supplies that he'd been put in charge of carrying.
When the four exited the apartment swiftly, Clark noticed that Mr. Jones dropped a hand onto Max's shoulder. The teen looked up at FP hopefully, and then gave him a very serious, businesslike nod of solidarity.
FP returned the nod solemnly as they made their way down the stairs, and Max's steps seemed a little lighter even though he was carrying Clark's backpack, his two tote bags, and also skillfully managing Trigger.
When Max's eyes cut over to catch Clark watching, he winked proudly. Clark winked back, but this time he couldn't help but recall Agent Quinn's admonitions that he could not follow through on any promises that he might be tempted to make to Max.
Their friendship was starting to feel like an implicit promise.
Thankfully there was a lot to take his mind off of that potential problem for the time being. Focusing on the shadowy, unknown threat to Jones and Davies that had Mr. Jones and the FBI so spooked, Clark's fingers brushed against his service weapon as he carefully handled the heavy gear bag filled with Williams' and Quinn's supplies.
Hopefully his friends were okay and they would all soon be reunited.
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Brand was starting to have some serious sympathy for FP regarding how irritating it was to be left in the dark while everyone else in the room had a clue about what was going on. He and Jones had been herded into a fancy sitting room just off of the foyer in Rose's house, and they seemed to be waiting on Rose's convenience.
And so far at least three threats had been made that Brand could not make heads or tails of.
Jones definitely understood them, though, and Rose's goons seemed to take great pleasure in referring to his bedroom (which was nothing short of disturbing and made Brand really, really wish that he'd gotten the whole story from Jones about his having been hurt), threatening to tie the kid up (which should have been a relatively mild threat, but had the kid skittering nervously behind Brand and doing calming breathing exercises, which seemed a bit much for Jones' typical acting abilities), or Jones' dramatically fearful reaction when one of the men mockingly rested the barrel of his (supposedly empty) gun against the side of Brand's head.
Brand hadn't been thrilled by the gesture either, not least of all because he had quite the acting job he needed to pull off here, but Jones' reaction was strong enough that it made Brand question whether he had been right in assuming that the kid knew something - and that the guns might actually not be loaded.
It was really frustrating not knowing what was going on.
And Brand needed to appear scared, not frustrated. The moment he seemed a little too angry or defiant, Rose's people would do the obvious and stop messing with Brand (something they seemed to relish the opportunity to indulge in) in favor of threatening harm to Jones in order to keep Brand cowed.
So it was better to just keep breathing a little too quickly and doing the nervous scanning-the-room thing that Jones had raised to an art form.
And then Rose arrived.
"Ever the salesman, I see," Rose declared, his eyes sweeping dismissively over Brand and then resting on Jones. "I would like some answers, though, and I'm really not in the mood for games - particularly considering your not insignificant talent for acting, Brandon."
Brand frowned.
"You forget that when I met you, you were scared," Rose continued. He seemed impatient, and that made Brand wonder what had kept him from confronting them earlier in the day. It was possible that Rose knew that things were disintegrating around him in Toronto and so he had begun to make arrangements to cover himself, retaliate, or perhaps to disappear. Maybe even all three. "I know what that sounds like. I know what inspires that in you."
Brand forced himself not to glance in Jones' direction, but he had a sick feeling that his efforts to keep the kid out of the crosshairs were about to become meaningless. He might have lost any precise track of time, too, but he had the distinct sense that the FBI was now officially late in coming after them.
Hopefully FP was not lying dead somewhere.
"The fireplace will do, and we should have no need to disfigure more than the boy's feet. Remove his shoes, though; this will take a bit of gasoline and will certainly smell foul enough without adding athletic footwear to the-,"
"Jones?" Brand's voice was level and cold and he knew that would get the kid's attention. He no longer cared whether the guns were empty, the bust successful, or if they got out of this house without injury.
It was time to fight their way out or die trying.
"Ahhh, there we are." Rose's tone was suddenly filled with mirth and he was praising Brand as if he were an obedient pet. "That's the sound of honesty. Just to be sure that we keep it around, let's restrain the boy once again. There will be no surprises tonight."
Brand reached behind him and grabbed Jones by his upper arm. The kid was barely shaking, and Brand wondered if he'd even had time to fully realize what Rose was threatening. "Jones, we're not-,"
Before Brand could communicate to the kid that they were not going to cooperate - that they were going to fight for their lives before they allowed Rose to subdue either one of them, now that his threats had gotten nasty - a door flew open.
"There are dozens of Serpents outside. They're claiming to be here on behalf of the Serpent King, but without his knowledge. There are…" The man bearing the message quailed when confronted by Rose's facial expression. "I'm sorry, sir. There are a lot of them. They want you to give them the Jones kid in exchange for them leaving your territory peaceably."
"Give him up, Rose. You'll still have me," Brand spoke up immediately, his grip tightening painfully on Jones' arm when he heard an objection forming behind him. "You really don't want to mess with that treaty; this is a gift. You can still get him out of here, no harm no foul."
"It seems a bit more like a gift horse. Perhaps even a Trojan one." Rose raised an eyebrow imperiously before addressing the men who had been guarding Brand and Jones. "Don't hurt either of them unless you have to. I'll go see to this."
Brand had to work to loosen his grip on the kid. He turned to take in Jones' horrified expression, and the way he was shaking his head at Brand.
"I won't leave you."
"You'll go," Brand said wearily. The odds were not good that Jones would be released to the Serpents, but they were better than zero and Brand was going to push for that outcome as hard as he could. "If we get the option, you're gone. Now sit down-," Brand motioned to one of the couches in the room, "-and let's make sure that everyone here gets a chance to relax their trigger fingers."
There was every possibility that the situation devolving would result in them both being shot and their bodies left behind if a scramble began to get clear of the sinking enterprise. However, if people were calm enough that it looked in any way easier - smarter - to make a run for it without putting bullets into the two hostages, that alone might mean their survival.
Jones nodded slowly, looking around at Rose's men - who appeared to be at least slightly confused, and deeply concerned by the events unfolding outside of the room.
"We all need to wait and see how this shakes out," Brand continued, this time addressing everyone in the room. Out of habit, or perhaps sensing that change might be in the wind once again, the men seemed willing to listen to him.
"I'm not leaving you behi-,"
This time one of the armed men responded to the kid: "You'll do what Rose wants. Sit down."
And so they did.
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"What are we doing here?"
Once they'd arrived in Toronto, Kevin had been meticulously cut out of any and all conversations of substance, but when he and Joaquin had been loaned a motorcycle in order to participate in a massive nighttime group ride into an upscale residential neighborhood, he'd begun amassing questions swiftly.
Now that they had surrounded a mansion and a few Serpents had broken away to deliver a message to the front door of the house, Kevin was starting to get a vague idea of what sort of outing this might be.
And he was beginning to panic.
"We're enforcing a treaty that someone was under the mistaken impression was about to expire," Joaquin said in a darkly gleeful way. "I organized this so that FP wouldn't have to go near it. He'll appreciate that; this is a big deal agreement we're enforcing, and FP's been trying to keep his hands clean lately."
Joaquin had been refreshingly energized ever since they'd begun their trip to Toronto, and Kevin had been relieved and grateful to see his boyfriend so happy and in many ways acting like he was back to his former self.
Now it all seemed disturbing.
"Too bad this isn't a place that'd burn easy." A Serpent who was astride a bike beside them offered to Joaquin with a grin. "I think he's more than earned it. Rose tried to take out two lines of succession today: the Serpent King's kid and his own heir, Davies."
Joaquin tsked playfully, lighting up with a sarcastic smirk. "He must actually believe that he's going to live forever."
"Could be; could be. Rose has the ego for it. Anyway, our opening bid is just for the kid. We'll fish Davies out if we get a chance, but it's Rose's business if he wants to deal with his traitor his own way."
"No. Get Davies out too." Joaquin shook his head. "God only knows why, but he's family to FP. If we want to make things right and have a prayer of bringing the king back to the Serpents once and for all, we'll need to get both of his people out."
The other Serpent frowned. "That's a bit more challenging. But you know better than any of us what's likely to make a sober FP Jones sit up and take notice." The Serpent's emphasis made it clear that he was still have a difficult time wrapping his head around the notion of FP's sobriety.
Joaquin flicked his eyebrows in response, and the gesture was somehow one of both acquiescence and a challenge. "I won't steer you wrong."
Kevin gaped at his boyfriend. "Wait a second... do you mean that Jughead is here? And Special Agent Davies? You're threatening them unless they come out here and, what, turn themselves over to the Serpents?"
"We're not threatening anyone, Kevin. We're, uh, 'negotiating their release,'" Joaquin corrected, his tone slightly mocking. "Isn't that what your dad would call it?"
"Release?" Kevin's eyes flew back to the mansion. "Hold on. What exactly is going on here?"
"Well, now. That's what we're trying to figure out, kid." The other Serpent folded his arms over his broad chest. "For all our sakes."
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"It's taking too long. It's been too long. We have to go-,"
Agent Quinn interrupted FP. "I know this is painful, but this is the international part of our job. It's complicated, and we cannot move until we get the go-ahead from our Canadian liaisons."
"Why wasn't this set up beforehand?" FP demanded.
"Nobody wanted to sign off on giving us that much latitude. And now I'm thinking that they must have assumed - or hoped - that it would never get this far." Agent Quinn's terse manner betrayed her frustration with the situation as well.
"We'll do something if things start to look unstable, FP," Williams tried to assure him.
"Not good enough, Williams," FP growled. "Just let me out of the car. I'll talk to Rose, stall him, do something-,"
"No can do." Williams' tone held something firmer and more dangerous then: her words were a threat. "You are officially with us now. You need to sit tight and let us go through channels. It's the only way to get this done."
Clark and Max watched with wide eyes as this exchange played out.
Williams looked down at her phone, and then began gaping in horror at whatever she had received. "Uh, Clark? Have you made any phone calls in the last few hours?"
"No. None." Clark sat up straighter. "Why?"
"It must have been FP, then. You really want this bust to fall apart, don't you, Jones?" Agent Williams' glare was chilling. "Call them off. Now."
"Who?" FP was startled out of his anxious rage and into bewilderment. "What are you talking about? I didn't call anyone."
"Wait. Is it our gang?" Max put it together a moment before FP and Clark did. "The Serpents came to help!"
"Max? How on earth did you contact-," Williams sputtered before Quinn cut her off.
"He couldn't have. Nobody in this vehicle could have, Chloe." Sarah frowned. "And the Serpents do have an active interest in who has control of territory around here. I can't think of how they caught wind of things happening tonight, though, and this cannot be a coincidence."
"They'll beat them. Just like they beat Donn." Max was leaning forward eagerly. "If we can't go yet but they can, then they can make sure that-,"
"That is not how this works," Williams snapped.
"But it could be," FP interjected. "I didn't call anyone, but maybe Max is right. If we're forced to sit on our hands, then they might be able to keep Rose treed for a little while longer. Keep him too busy to… focus on anything else."
"Or they might escalate things, FP." Sarah gave him a sympathetic look, but spoke firmly. "This could far too easily go the other way and not work in our favor."
"But it might." FP's expression was pained. "It's a chance."
They all lapsed into uncomfortable silence.
Finally Clark spoke up. "I think that maybe Mr. Jones is right. We've been delayed. So maybe Davies set this up with the Serpents ahead of time, just in case that happened. He had to know this was possible; he's been an international liaison with the FBI for a while. He's even led an international bust right here in Toronto once before."
Everyone in the vehicle exchanged glances.
"That is... surprisingly plausible," Agent Quinn admitted quietly.
"It certainly sounds like something Davies would do," Williams agreed, her grudging tone tinged with reluctant admiration for the idea.
FP frowned. He was not convinced that sounded at all like Brandon's relationship with the Serpents. However, he was willing to hold onto any hope that was offered.
"Keep making calls, you two." Hope or no hope, FP wasn't about to let up on the two agents. "If Brandon did this, it's nothing more than a stalling tactic. Make it count."
"We're doing everything we can," Agent Quinn promised. "You know we all care deeply about Jughead and Brand and their safety."
"They're our people. We've got movement, and we should be cleared to go in any time now." Agent Williams patted FP's shoulder bracingly. "We'll get them out. This is not as bad as it seems; it just sucks seeing how the sausage is made."
When FP looked to Clark, as if he might have a different impression from his unique position as knowledgeable intern but less-invested non-FBI personnel, the younger man made a face.
"Look, I'm the only one here who's both an adult and already on thin ice with the Bureau in every possible way." Clark gave FP a sincere look. "And once Quinn and Williams are moving, the buck officially stops with you, Mr. Jones."
"Um, what exactly are you getting at?" Agent Williams twisted around in her seat to look at Clark; she was suddenly very concerned.
"I'm just saying that I'm here. That's all," Clark reassured her. Then he made eye contact with FP and gave him a subtle nod. "For whatever you need me to do."
Agent Sarah gave Clark a sharp look in the rearview mirror of the vehicle, but when both agents' phones began frantically buzzing, the conversation was effectively over.
FP returned Clark's nod and mouthed 'thank you.' Clark gave him a tight smile.
Max grinned up at them both. "Don't forget that we have Trigger, too."
FP patted him on the shoulder, but his attention was on the two agents in the front as they hurriedly exited the vehicle.
"Stay here." Agent Quinn was all business once more. "We're waiting on one more piece, but then things are going to start happening quickly."
"Thank heavens." FP waved for her to keep moving. "We're set. Go."
"Cell phones on and handy at all times," Williams admonished, and then she was gone as well.
"Clark," FP turned to the intern as soon as they were alone. "We need a code word. If I text it, you come in with your service weapon. Max, you'll have the hardest job. I need you to stay here - right here -, no matter what happens. Keep the doors locked against anyone but us, Agent Quinn, or Agent Williams." FP thought for a moment and then added: "Or Jughead and Davies."
"Aye, sir." Max saluted.
"He's reading Treasure Island," Clark said when FP looked unsure of how to take that response. "You're clear on what Mr. Jones is saying, Max? He's at the top of the chain of command now."
"Wow, Clark. Yes, I do know how to do nothing." Max rolled his eyes. Then he looked more eager: "Can I come up with the code?"
"No," FP and Clark chorused.
"It's better if you don't even know what it is," Clark continued.
"For your protection," FP added.
"And for the integrity of the mission. I get it." Max nodded seriously. "You can count on me. I'll be the one holding the fort."
"Exactly." FP nodded. "Everyone has a part to play. Just in case we need it."
They began to strategize.
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I know, this is the 'everything' story and maybe I'm having (far) too much fun... Sorry I'm not sorry? ;) I hope you're enjoying; thanks for reading! I'll love any and all notes as I no doubt have quite the bust on my hands in our next chapter. :-D
I hope you are having a lovely weekend!
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