CHAPTER 23

"These disguises were a good idea," Mike Donovan said as he turned the steering wheel gently. "The black-and-white helps a lot, too. Not even the Visitors would look twice if they see an LAPD squad car during the middle of curfew."

"It's all about attention to detail, Gooder," mumbled Ham Tyler. "That, and not doing anything to attract attention to yourself."

"How did you manage to get us the car and the uniforms so quick, anyway?"

"I've got my sources."

"I guess it helps to have friends in high places."

Tyler looked around, scanning the area. "We ought to be real close."

"There." Mike pointed at a sign on the side of a building. "Crandall's Film Storage and Processing. KNBC uses these guys a lot, though I've never actually been here before."

"The loading area is out back," Tyler said.

Mike drove the LAPD Crown Victoria into an alley, then found the loading dock. He drove up to it and got out of the car, straightening the fit of the black cap on his head.

Tyler walked towards the back of the black-and-white. "I need the key to the trunk."

Mike dug into his pants and tossed the car key at Tyler. "Grab me a Mag, too."

After a couple of seconds Tyler said, "Think fast, Gooder."

Mike barely had time to see the black, foot-long metal flashlight Tyler had tossed his way. He almost dropped it, in fact, which could have done some damage to his toes.

"Nice hands," Tyler quipped. "Come on. Lead the way."

Mike climbed up the loading dock platform, which was four feet off the ground, with ease. Tyler, a little older, did so as well, albeit with somewhat less grace. Watching Tyler wipe dust off his LAPD uniform made him smirk.

Such moments of amusement for Mike Donovan were much more rare these past few weeks. Ever since Julie's capture the group looked to him more and more as its de facto leader. The fact that Tyler seemed to want to speak only to him in discussing all sorts of matters pertaining to the Los Angeles resistance group just reinforced that idea in everyone's mind.

As he and Tyler entered the building, , Mike's thoughts turned again to Julie. The young woman certainly felt the burden of leadership, something she and Mike had talked about a few times. She would sometimes immediately express her regret at confessing those woes to him; she said she didn't mean to complain so much. But he always encouraged her as well as he could.

Now that he had effectively taken over from Julie, at least until they freed her, the realities of the awesome and awful weight of the mantle of leadership over the group was starting to drag Mike's soul down.

Presently he turned on his Maglite. Tyler did the same with his, and said, "Aim at the floor."

"What for?"

"You don't want anyone outside to know we're in here. Aim the beam too high, and someone outside is sure to spot it through a window."

Mike chuckled. "Man," he said, leading the way through the warehouse. "You definitely think on a different level compared to someone like me."

"I've been in this business for a long time now, Gooder. It's impossible without a healthy amount of skepticism."

"Skepticism? Don't you mean cynicism?"

"Whatever you like." Tyler coughed as he and Donovan navigated their way through the shelves and racks filled with film canisters and tape boxes. "What is it with you and dumps?"

"What?"

Tyler coughed again. "This place is filthy. Your outfit's previous HQ was a sewer plant."

Donovan chuckled. Whether Tyler knew it or not, he was thankful for these little moments of accidental levity. "Hey, look at it this way," he said. "At least it's easy to tell if someone was already in here."

"How so?"

Donovan stopped for a moment and pointed his Maglite towards the path they'd taken. "All this dust on the floor ought to show up footprints real easy."

"Speaking of which," Tyler said. "No footprints in front of you. Where's your little gator friend?"

"Cool it with that talk," Donovan answered, his voice tight. "He's one of us."

"Gooder you'll trust just about anyone. This whole setup stinks – "

Tyler froze in mid-sentence as a shadow moved from behind one of the shelving units behind them. Donovan aimed his flashlight at the shadow and saw the red-orange uniform and black boots. Tyler, meanwhile, aimed his Maglite much higher, towards the face of Martin, who brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the intense light.

"What happened to 'aim at the floor'?" Donovan said to Tyler, subtly telling the ex-CIA operative to point the flashlight anywhere but at Martin's face.

"Just like a swamp gator," Tyler said, ignoring Donovan. "Sneaks up on you every time."

Donovan had to physically grab Tyler's arm to keep the Maglite's beam from hurting the Visitor's sensitive eyes.

"Thank you," Martin said.

"Martin," said Donovan, extending his hand out to the Visitor.

Martin did likewise, and the two of them shook hands. "Hello, Mike."

Even in the dark Donovan didn't miss the Visitor's quick sideways glance at Tyler, then realized that he'd had no chance to tell Martin about this deviation from the established norm. Usually, whenever Martin and Donovan met, no matter where and when those meetings took place, it was always just between the two of them. Sometimes a third party would facilitate the meeting, but the actual conversations that took place were exclusively between the pair.

So that explains part of Martin's unease with this meeting.

Of course, Tyler's fairly overt hostility towards Martin explains the rest of it.

Perhaps because his morale and mood were so low, sensing the tension between Tyler and Martin made Donovan laugh on the inside. It actually really makes a lot of sense. I mean, these guys are basically doing the same job; their styles might be totally different, but they're two sides of the same coin.

As with magnets, like repels like.

When neither Martin nor Tyler seemed willing to initiate any attempt to introduce himself to the other, Donovan decided to explain things. Gesturing to Tyler, he said to Martin, "This… person is one of us. His name is Ham Tyler. I don't like him, but I trust him. At least I do in this war.

"I ask you to do the same."

Donovan watched Martin look at Tyler, who was impossible to read as always, then look back at him. "Well, I trust you, Mike. That's enough."

Tyler spoke to Donovan. "Ask him what the deal is with that new Mother Ship."

Donovan rolled his eyes. "Tyler, you can be so ridiculous sometimes. You could have asked him yourself."

When Tyler said nothing further, Martin said, "That is Pamela's flagship. Pamela is the Fleet's Sector Commander."

"What's it doing here?" asked Mike.

"The Leader dispatched Pamela to the Earth system for a special project designed to accelerate progress in taking Southern California's freshwater."

"You guys play for keeps," Donovan said. When he saw the blank look on Martin's face, he realized that perhaps the Visitor was unfamiliar with this particular part of the vernacular. "I mean, you guys are going all in to win this war."

"Nobody is in a war to lose, Gooder," said Tyler. "What exactly is this 'special project'?"

"I do not have details yet," Martin said, "but as soon as I have concrete information, I will pass it along."

"Good," Donovan said, then changed the subject abruptly. "How's Julie?"

Martin's face sank. "She hasn't broken yet… but she will. And if she doesn't break, she's going to die."

"What?"

"Julie suffered a cardiac arrest last night," Martin explained. "She's in the infirmary now. Our medical staff – "

"'Our'?" Tyler interrupted. "Whose side are you on?"

"He's on our side," Donovan said, annoyed. "Go on, Martin."

"As I was trying to tell you," Martin said, his voice clipped, "she is under the care of the Mother Ship's medical staff. They have assured Diana that Julie will have recovered enough in a few days, at which point she will resume the conversion process."

"Did she give up the location of the old HQ?" Tyler asked.

"I honestly don't know," said Martin. "I'm not part of the specialized staff who perform conversions. I do know that Dan Pascal was taken prisoner the same night Julie was, and that he was interrogated by Security."

"I told you she'd never talk," Donovan said to Tyler.

"That's not what he said," Tyler countered. "All he said is the doesn't actually know if she did."

"Well, it doesn't change anything. We've got to get Julie out of this jam." Donovan looked at Martin. "We need you and the Fifth Column to help."

Martin slumped and shook his head. "I wish there was something I could do, Mike, but under the circumstances – "

"Look," Tyler interrupted Martin again, "you do as the man tells you, or I'm going to turn you into an hors d'oeuvre."

Martin went quiet for a moment, then said to Donovan, "Are there many more of this one?"

Donovan chuckled. "Fortunately selective breeding keeps their number to a minimum."

"Alright," Martin said after another spell of silence. "I'll listen to whatever plan you might have. But I can promise nothing."

Life's a bitch sometimes.

Donovan had been quiet for most of the trip back to Sable Ranch. He'd asked Tyler to make the drive back after the marathon meeting with Martin. Not only was he tired out of his mind, but finding out what had happened to Julie – and yet still not knowing everything he wanted to know, simply because Martin had no more information to offer – put a damper on his mood.

Tyler had just about finished parking the LAPD squad car when Donovan saw Ruby Engels walking towards them. He looked at his watch. It said "3:32 am."

"Ruby," he said as he got out of the car. He grabbed his leather jacket, which he had stashed in the back seat, and draped it over her own layers of clothing. "It's real late, and it gets cold out here at night."

"I just have to talk to you," she said.

"And it couldn't wait until the morning?" he asked, before quickly clarifying, "I mean, not that I don't think whatever you have to say isn't important. It obviously is, if you waited out here for me and Tyler to get back. It's just that –"

"Don't you worry, Mr. Donovan," Ruby said. "I may be old, but I'm a lot tougher than people give me credit for."

"You're the one who works undercover at Security Headquarters, aren't you?" Tyler asked.

"That's me," replied Ruby, a hint of pride in her voice.

"She's legit," Tyler said after a beat. He closed the driver's door. "If you don't mind, Gooder, I'm turning in." He looked at Ruby. "I'll see you when the sun's up."

Donovan watched Ruby give Tyler a big grin, then looked down at the elder woman who was more than a foot shorter than he was. "So," he said, "what's so important you can't wait until tomorrow?"

"I want to help, Mr. Donovan."

Donovan was puzzled. "Um… you do help, Ruby. A ton."

"I mean with whatever you and Mr. Tyler are planning."

Donovan raised his eyebrows, surprised. "'Planning'?"

"Come now, Mr. Donovan. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you've been wracking your brains trying to come up with a plan to save Julie." Ruby smiled at him. "And although I wasn't there, I've been told that when Mr. Tyler first showed up you and he made arrangements to work on saving Julie."

Donovan just had laugh. "You're pretty sharp."

"I kind of have to be," Ruby said, winking up at him.

Mike tried to return her smile, but couldn't. "Can I level with you?"

"Always."

Donovan sighed. "Tyler is convinced that Julie is, as he calls it, 'damaged goods;" the sad thing is, based on what we've been told by people who know, there's a real good chance he's actually right." His heart ached. "If Diana's converted her, if there's any possibility of that at all, Tyler thinks she's better off dead, and we'd be better off without her." He looked away. "Tyler thinks we ought to kill her… before she has a chance to betray and hurt us all."

Ruby's mouth was agape. Donovan couldn't trust himself to meet her gaze. "I don't like it any more than you do."

"Well," she said after a few moments of quiet contemplation, "that's obviously the worst case scenario. What if she hasn't been converted?"

"If that's the case, we bring her home. We've got a plan for that too." He looked at Ruby. "I just hope she can hold out for just a little bit longer."

Ruby was quiet for a moment, digesting everything he'd said. "Mr. Donovan, don't feel guilty about Julie."

"I can't help it if I do."

"But it wasn't your fault. None of this is."

"I don't know about that," he said, sighing. "I left her there at the hospital. I should have gone back for her."

"You had no choice." Ruby touched his forearm, and Donovan wrapped her hand in his. "I was there too, remember?" she said.

Mike sighed again. "It took me forever to come up with a realistic plan to spring her." He rubbed his forehead, trying to salve a headache that might be from sleep deprivation, or perhaps from stress. "We have to get her back. She's the only one cut out to be in charge of this outfit."

Ruby gave his hand a squeeze. "Sometimes you just have to admit there are some things you can't control. One thing you do have to remember, though: You'll always have friends around you. Friends who want to help." When Donovan looked at her, she was smiling up at him. "Which is precisely why I'm here, in fact."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to help getting Julie back. I mean, really help, not just be on the sidelines or stay here waiting and worrying for everyone to come back."

Mike hesitated. "I don't know, Ruby – "

"I'm not a helpless old woman, Mr. Donovan!" she said with over-the-top feigned outrage.

"Please, please!" Donovan said, his hands raised in mock exasperation. "When are you going to call me 'Mike'?" He couldn't help but laugh. "Everyone calls me 'Donovan' around here."

"Either that or," she paused before continuing, "'Gooder'." The two of them laughed together.

"I'll call you 'Mike' on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"You and Mr. Tyler let me help you – really help – get Julie back."

Donovan shrugged. "I guess there's just no saying no to you." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'll talk to Tyler about it in the morning. I may not like it, but since you're insisting so hard we'll find some way to use you."

"Anything," Ruby said. "Just to get Julie back."