Chapter 6 A rather unusual plan

Uhhh, yeah….it's been a while I give you that. But I'm back and planning on being more productive. So here's the next chapter (for anyone still interested). As always, I don't own either show.

Outside McBurrys

Dean and Sam were just returning from lunch, ready to start their search of the Zocalo. They hoped the information the vendor had given them was genuine. Otherwise they would be just wasting their time while the problem was elsewhere. Dean was still jumpy, remembering his conversation with Delenn and wondering if she had told anyone else of her suspicions about him and Sam. No one had come to arrest them, though, but there was still time.

Dean was walking slightly ahead of Sam, both doing their best to negotiate the crowded corridors of Babylon 5. At one point a Markab stepped between them, planting himself in Sam's way. Sam was just about to go around him when the Markab grabbed his arms.

"It is you!" he exclaimed.

Sam felt nervous at the clearly knowledgable exclamation, but did his best not to lose his cool.

"I'm sorry," he said calmly, "But I think you're mistaking me with someone else. Could you please let me pass?"

At the sound of the altercation Dean turned swiftly around. His senses were already on the alert. Seeing the Markab blocking Sam's way like that made him doubly tense. Granted, Sam was twice the Markab's size and he could have easily dealt with the threat if he wanted to, but that was not the point. Someone was in Sam's way, his intentions clearly unfriendly and that was enough to make Dean's hackles rise. He walked back and tapped the Markab on his shoulder.

"There a problem, pal?" he asked.

The Markab turned his head briefly. He did not seem surprised by Dean's arrival. Clearly, he had been expecting him to appear at some point. Over the Markab's head Dean caught Sam's gaze. The other looked vaguely amused by Dean's intervention. There was also a glimpse of gratitude in his face. The Markab might not have been by far the most threatening thing Sam had faced. He was still glad he did not have to face him on his own.

"You are the problem," the Markab stated solemnly. "You and the doom you bring with you wherever you go. You Hunters are everywhere and corrupt everything with the darkness you carry with you. Your kind shouldn't be allowed on the station. And especially not you two."

The brothers now exchanged concerned looks. Somehow, the Markab had recognised them. By the way he talked about them, he knew not only what they were, but also who they were. Sam and Dean were both very aware of the reputation they had in the Hunter community, reputation that had been spread in all the corners of the galaxy where people knew about Hunters.

"Look, man," Sam began, trying to defuse the situation, "I don't know what you think, but I can assure you we don't want any trouble. We're just here to get something, that's all. After that we'll be out of your hair and you'll never see us again."

"Quite likely I won't," the Markab accepted. "But that does not mean anything. You were still here. You're still a portent of doom."

With that, he stood aside, allowing Sam to pass. He moved away from the two Hunters, not once glancing behind at them. Sam and Dean, however, watched him until he was swallowed by the crowd.

"At least now we know where Delenn found out about us," Sam said. "Although, something still does not fit."

"What doesn't fit?" Dean asked impatiently. "He spotted us, he panicked and then he went to see the Minbari Ambassador for help. He could have gone to his own ambassador, true, but what would have been the point? You're the one who told me Delenn had more influence in this place."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. Yes, Delenn had more influence on Babylon 5 and, from what he had heard, she was one of those who actually got things done. So why wasn't she doing anything about them? Why had she only been content with letting Dean know she was aware of who they were and nothing more?

Zocalo

"Hello Frank,"

The vendor of supposedly occult objects looked up startled at the deceptively friendly greeting. He knew the voice. Everyone on Babylon 5 knew the voice for Security Chief Michael Garibaldi did his best to make himself heard as often as possible. Usually, hearing him did not bode well to the one who was being addressed.

"Mr Garibaldi," he greeted back nervously. "I presume you're not here to buy a uhhh…little good luck charm."

"Pass," Garibaldi replied promptly. "My luck sucks as it is. No, I'm here to ask a few questions. I think you might be qualified to answer."

Frank swallowed. Garibaldi was there on official business. That usually did not end well for the one he had business with, either.

"I'll do all I can to help," he replied faintly.

Garibaldi looked anything but impressed.

"Whatever," he dismissed the other's weak attempts at appearing eager for the conversation to take place. "Listen, has there been anyone particularly interested in the kind of merchandise you claim to sell?"

Frank wondered idly when his type of merchandise had become so popular. He had always been tolerated on the station, him and others like him, considered nothing more than harmless crackpots. Not anymore apparently.

"Well," Frank began, "There were these two reporter dudes today…"

Garibaldi shook his head.

"Not today," he corrected. "I'm interested in earlier. And I want alien visitors and not humans. Especially alien dignitaries. Any of them visit you?"

The question in itself was strange. Not a lot of dignitaries visited people like Frank Carstairs in the Zocalo. Frank was surprised Garibaldi would think they did. Then he remembered the well-dressed Brakiri that had spent half an hour looking at his collection of…

"Amulets," Franka said out loud, then, seeing Garibaldi frown in confusion he clarified: "I had a few big-wigs looking at amulets the other day. They didn't buy any, though. I had a feeling they were looking for something very specific."

"Really?" Garibaldi repeated curiously. "Did they happen to tell you what?"

Frank shook his head. He could claim ignorance this time and he was happy about it.

"No, they wouldn't say," he answered. "They snubbed me a little to tell you the truth. One of them even laughed when I showed him my virility talisman. "Are you sure I cannot tempt you with one, Mr Garibaldi?"

"My virility is fine, thank you," Garibaldi answered distractedly.

He left Frank Carstairs without another word. He wondered whether the amulet the alien dignitaries wanted was the same one his victim was after – and whether it had somehow caused his death.

Zocalo

"There he is."

Sam and Dean were in the Zocalo, in the place where Frank had told them the strange man appeared almost every day. He looked exactly as Frank had described him, all down to his dark cloak that almost hid his features completely.

"Why do they all have to wear a cloak?" Dean muttered. "Is this some secret bad guy code of conduct or something? Wear a cloak to keep hidden and in the same time to make sure everyone's attention is fixed on you?"

Still, despite the man's rather conspicuous look, no one's attention was fixed on him. In fact, many of the people that passed him did their utmost to act as if they could not see him.

"They know about him," Sam mused. "They know he's dangerous. That's why they pretend he isn't there."

"What do you think he's doing here?" Dean asked. "Do you think he's looking to sell the talisman?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders.

"Among other things," he said. "Carstairs told us he's been here for a while. He must have other deals up his sleeve, not just for the talisman."

"Well, Carstairs also said he won't sell to just anybody," Dean said. "And I'm beginning to think he was right."

It had not taken Dean long to notice their quarry's patterns. He was paying attention only to important people. Dignitaries, ambassadors, the wealthy ones – the ones that had a lot of influence. The ones that could do the most damage.

"He won't deal with us," Sam agreed. "Not as who we claim to be. Probably not as who we really are, either."

Dean nodded thoughtfully. He could see that was a problem. If that person had the talisman, he was not going to give it to them. He was not even going to allow them to approach him and talk about it.

Besides Dean, Sam suddenly tensed. Dean followed his brother's gaze and noticed a tall Narn woman making straight to the vendor.

"That's Na'toth," Sam informed Dean. "The Narn Ambassador's diplomatic attaché."

"Well, by the looks of it, our friend's been expecting her," Dean noticed.

Indeed, the man had grown alert when he had seen Na'toth approaching. The attaché stopped in front of him. She did not look at all pleased to be there. She said something. The vendor suddenly shook his head. He made to move away from his previous spot and made a sign for his potential buyer to follow him.

"Of course," Sam said, "They're not going to conduct business in public like that. It's risky for both of them. So they're going somewhere quiet."

Dean looked worried.

"I think we should follow them," he suggested. "After all, he might be giving her the talisman."

Sam, however, shook his head.

"He'll probably only show it to her," he replied. "And talk a bit more about what it can do – maybe even mention price. But she won't buy it. The Narn Ambassador's not on the station. She can't take major decisions without her boss."

"Maybe," Dean conceded. "But I'm worried. If that talisman's as powerful as rumour has it, she's bound to want it. The Narns are getting a thorough ass-kicking in their war with the Centauri. Hell, if I was in their position, I might want the thing myself."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. He could tell that Dean was getting worried. Of course, he had been on edge ever since the mission to Babylon 5 had begun and his confrontation with the Markab had only aggravated him. It was clear that Dean wanted them both off the station before they were discovered and things blew over in their faces. But he also sensed they would not get anywhere near the current possessor of the talisman without a plan.

As a matter of fact, Sam thought he had a plan. It was a desperate one, true, but it was also the only one he could think of. It was also – and this he sensed quite clearly – one that Dean was not going to agree with. Not without a lot of convincing on Sam's part.

"Dean," Sam said taking a deep breath, "I have to tell you something."

Alerted by his brother's solemn tone, Dean turned swiftly to look at him. There was a small frown on his features, one that anyone else would have taken as irritation. Sam knew Dean, though, and he could tell how his brother expressed concern.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Dean demanded harshly.

Sam could tell what had gotten his brother on edge now. Lately, whenever Sam had announced the desire to hold a conversation out of the blue, it had to do with the Wall in his mind and what was behind it. Not now, though, and Sam hastened to put Dean at ease.

"It's not what you think," he said quickly. "Only…well, only you still won't like it. As a matter of fact, you're going to completely dismiss my plan and it's gonna take a lot of convincing from my part for you to even consider this."

Dean looked at Sam with raised eyebrows.

"You growing psychic on me again, Sammy?" he asked.

Sam scoffed.

"I don't have to be psychic to know how you think Dean," he pointed out. "So how about this, let's pretend you've already disagreed with my plan, we've had one of our long-drawn arguments, and now you're more willing to at least give me a chance to try things my way."

"What's your plan?" Dean wanted to know.

He did not want to commit to anything, not before he knew what Sam actually wanted to do. Sam's ideas tended to be slightly out there. Of course, they also tended to work and Dean was not what one might call cautious either. But something in the way Sam had said it made Dean think that there was something about this particular idea that was most certainly not going to sit right with him.

Sam sighed. He fully recognised what Dean was trying to do. He was willing to listen. But that did not mean he was going to agree.

"That guy won't deal with us," Sam began, "Not if we come as who we are. But he might deal if we come as representatives for someone else. An alien race, say."

Dean shook his head at that. Sam might have been right. But the plan was not going to work. They were not going to be believed.

"Why would aliens send us to deal with him, though?" Dean reasoned. "From what we both saw, they can go directly to him."

"Not all of them," Sam pointed out. "There is one race of aliens with which our mystery seller does not deal with. Not in front of everyone at least. After all, Carstairs think he's been injured in the war. It's understandable why he wouldn't want to be seen doing business with his former enemies."

Dean frowned.

"Let me get this straight," he began, "You want us to present ourselves as representing the Minbari? Sam, you do realise their ambassador already knows something's fishy with us. If we go behind her back about this…"

But Sam shook his head.

"Not behind her back," he corrected. "With her approval, actually."

Dean's eyes widened. He knew now exactly the extent of Sam's plan. He knew also why Sam had tried to make him promise he would consider it. But this was not something Dean would ever be comfortable agreeing to.

"Sammy, you've got serious problems upstairs if you think I'm ever going to allow us to work with a Minbari."

"Why not?" Sam challenged. "We've worked with worse."

"Yeah, and look where that got us," Dean pointed out. "Listen, I don't trust her, especially now when I know just how much she is aware of who we are."

Sam was nodding fervently as is what Dean was saying was actually making the point for him.

"Exactly!" he exclaimed. "She knows who we are. And she didn't do anything about it. She could have exposed us to Captain Sheridan, but she didn't. That's why I think we can trust her."

Dean shook his head at that.

"The fact that she fails to report a potential threat to the commander of the station doesn't make her trustworthy in my book, Sammy," he replied calmly.

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He was starting to get really irritated by his brother's inherent stubbornness. Of course, he had already known Dean would argue the point until he was blue in the face. Actually, Sam was slightly surprised Dean was not more vocal about it. But, then again, they were still in the Zocalo. It would not have looked good if they were overheard when they were talking like that.

"Listen to me, Dean," Sam pleaded. "Maybe you're right about the Minbari and they are not generally to be trusted. Or maybe it's just Dad and his buddies who got that opinion so fixed in your head, you can't get rid of it even if the war's been over and done with for years. But there's one thing that even you won't able to deny: the Minbari have invested a lot in Babylon 5 and they don't put that much work into something unless they have a good reason. Now, if that talisman stays on the station, it could tear the place apart - it would certainly be a threat to the peace the station's trying to uphold. If we go with that to Delenn, she'll help us. It's not her we'll have to trust – just the thought that it's in her best interest, for whatever reason that's not even any of our business, to keep this place together for now."

Dean did not say anything for a while. It was not the first time Sam was making shady deals with people that should not have been trusted. But Dean had long sworn never to mention Ruby again in his brother's presence. And anyway, in the matter of shady deals, Dean was not exactly innocent himself.

"All right," he sighed in the end. "We'll do it your way. But I'll tell you that I don't like this. And I don't think I like her much, either."

Sam dismissed the last words.

"Dude, I'm not telling you to marry her and have a bunch of Minbari kids together," he pointed out. "We'll just form a…short-term mutually beneficial alliance, that's all. And then we'll be out of here and we'll probably never see her again, either. It'll work, trust me."