It had taken six hours, and way too much Quicksilver, but Darien had finally found the location where the service tunnel that led to the former boiler room in the sub-sub-sub-basement of the Agency began. Well, one of the connections, anyway, and the easiest one to get to; there turned out to be an entire tunnel system under certain parts of the city, especially in these older buildings.
It was very public with decent security for mid-to-high end restaurant, but it still had taken him less than fifteen minutes in the building to find the basement entrance, the old access door behind a defunct cooler, pick the almost as ancient Masterlock and verify the way through was clear. A couple of fancy pieces of tech created by Alyx placed right where she wanted them - one at either end - later and she had the system on the grid and would able to track Mason as he made his way beneath the city to the Agency.
Alyx had either arranged for or provided all the necessary accoutrements for Mason. A car, a disguise and a plan. Darien, already at the restaurant, enjoyed an early lunch. They'd practiced the timing out at Grams's house. His dad would have roughly ninety seconds invisible once they started to get from the dining area to the sub-basement that housed the escape route. The only way to get there unseen.
Darien watched his father enter, be seated and order, all as planned. He, to all appearances, had no interest in anything other than his steak, beer and the pretty waitress taking care of his every whim. The flirting lighthearted and not serious other than as a way for her to garner a larger than usual tip.
Across the dining room his father placed his order and pulled out a newspaper to read. No one appeared to take any notice of them. Not in the building, at least. Outside? There was no way to know. To not attract any undue attention they were on their own, no agents, no Hobbes, no Alyx. Oh, they each had their phones with the GPS on so she could track them and he was certain she was keeping a mental eye on him in case something went wrong, but otherwise they were on their own.
His phone chimed and he glanced down to see a text from Alyx. How's lunch?
He smiled. Just fine. He texted back. Be out of here within the hour.
He drank down a swallow of beer while waiting for her response. He managed not to frown when he read it. You have eyes on you. Might want to take an alternate route back to home base.
Do we need to accelerate the plan?
No. Just be prepared to disappear on your return. They do need to see you leave the restaurant.
Are they onto him?
He waited impatiently for her response. If they, whichever they had made an appearance today, knew Perdue sat in this restaurant the entire plan could fall apart quickly. While Darien was in full view of the windows that overlooked the street, his dad had been sat back by the bar and, even he had to admit, looked nothing like himself. The usual far more relaxed attire, replaced with a business suit and briefcase. The wig and makeup job would have fooled even Darien if he hadn't seen it ahead of time.
If they had somehow figured out that the man across the room was Perdue and that he had not been safely tucked within the loving bosom of the Agency for the last few days things could… would fall apart quickly. While he had eaten here before Darien did not do it often and he supposed it could be regarded as a change in pattern and that could have alerted the watchers that something unusual were taking place. But why follow him in the first place?
Unless…
Unless someone had figured out that Forrester Perdue was actually Mason Fawkes.
And, if so, who better to follow than the son of the best sniper in the world. Royce could have leaked that intel to anyone, even from the pit he had been buried in for his attempted act of treason.
Fuck. Could things get any more complicated?
Stupid thing to ask; of course they could, but for now they would have to stick to the plan and hope to hell it didn't blow up in their faces.
His phone finally chimed.
No. Following you, not him.
Which could mean anything… or nothing at all. Do they still think he's at the Agency?
The wait for a response was nerve wracking. He could only assume she was trying to find out that very information even as he asked. They'd been keeping an eye on the interagency chatter, but what they'd been hearing could have been lies and prevarications to lead them to thinking one thing when the truth was something else entirely.
The hounds are casting.
He felt his stomach drop through the floor. The code phrase that had been chosen to warn that the situation had escalated to dangerous levels, including pressure being put on the Official in regards to Perdue and what he might or might not have told the Agency and, possibly, how the Official planned to exploit said information.
Christ. Threats had clearly been leveled, which meant Darien had become a target as well, one designed to force the Official to comply with whatever demand had been issued. Due to his overenthusiastic watchers the plan would need to be modified, if only slightly. It would require more Quicksilver, but guaranteed things would go smoothly here. He kind of wished he could just take the back route as well. That he didn't have to make the statement that those watching didn't matter and that their wants were unimportant.
He glanced down at his wrist. He had one red, which would be more than enough to get him and his father to the back door in the restaurant with plenty of sanity to spare, however, the plan dictated that he walk back out that front door, which would put him right into the crosshairs of who knew how many professional hitmen.
He was going to have to burn up the Quicksilver to get away clean.
Across the room his dad's head came up, and met Darien's eyes with concern buried in them, which implied Alyx had been busy texting him the details of the situation as well. Still, while the warning had been issued the hurry up had not, which meant they continue as if nothing had changed. He glanced at his watch; fifteen minutes before they moved. Good. That should give him time to settle the anxious butterflies that had taken up residence in his gut. He would finish lunch, enjoy the relaxed atmosphere in this fine establishment and only then would he put his skills to work and do the job at hand.
The time crawled past, and he debated dessert even as the sand ran out of the hourglass. He dug cash out of his wallet, more than enough to cover the bill, plus a generous tip and got to his feet, phone in hand as he tapped out a text one-handed. He headed for the men's room. He was joined by his father who had actually gotten up from his table before him. The restrooms were near the kitchen door they needed to get into and right next to a serious blind spot in the security; they simply had to make certain they were not observed by anyone as they ducked into the tiny alcove that once upon a time housed a bank of payphones.
"You ready for this?" Darien asked of his dad whose face was set in a mask of seriousness.
"Yes. Will you have a secure route back?"
Clearly Alyx had apprised him of the current situation. "Yep. I'll be back there within the hour, no worries." He set a hand on his father's shoulder and, after one last glance about to make certain they were unobserved, let the Quicksilver flow. He'd been practicing for speed and it took mere seconds to coat the both of them and with a shimmer of momentary light they disappeared. Mason had been shown the route on a sketched out map just in case they'd been forced to separate, but it hadn't been necessary, so Darien led the way into the depths of the kitchen, dodging the staff as they efficiently moved about the expansive space, down the set of stairs to the wine cellar and liquor storage, into the little used room behind it where the tunnel entrance had been forgotten decades ago.
Darien got the door open and waved his dad in. "The Quicksilver will fall off in a couple of minutes, Alyx will track you. Contact her if there are any problems."
"Son… be careful."
Darien nodded, knowing his expression would be hidden thanks to the Quicksilver. "I will." And with that he shut the door, locked it and moved the cooler back into place. He made his way back upstairs and into the bathroom, waiting until locked in a stall to make a reappearance. He glanced at his watch. He'd been gone from his table seven minutes, well within the window he'd been granted. However, as he turned his wrist slightly, he'd used up four scales on the snake, putting him at five. He had till seven or so before he got cranky, but had a feeling he'd be using it up quickly. He washed his hands, then pulled out his phone and texted, Todd is away.
The response was not a heartening one. The hounds are crying.
Which meant Darien's watchers had noticed he'd left his table and were moving in. It didn't actually change anything for him, he still had to walk out that front door and make his way back to the Agency. Only now, instead of walking the couple blocks back to the Agency, he'd have to lose his followers and hope like hell they wouldn't just shoot him.
Double back or go to ground.
Meaning should he lead the watchers on a merry chase or run for the safety of the Agency as quickly as possible. The irony of using fox hunting terms had not been lost on either of the Fawkes men, his father actually laughing out loud and giving his heartfelt approval and making Alyx smile, if fleetingly.
Go to ground.
Shit. Things must be falling apart quickly. He texted back, Tally ho, in a vain effort to lighten the mood.
Go. Was the quick response and he stopped stalling. He gave a nod to his waitress who smiled at him as he passed and then he was out the door, into the warmth of the late morning sunshine. He slid his sunglasses into place and turned left, heading in the direction of the Agency. He forced himself to relax and simply walk, weaving his way through the light foot traffic on the sidewalk. He'd gone about a block when Alyx poked him. *You need to find a crowd and vanish.*
He kept moving, looking for a larger group of people. *You sure about this, there's lots of eyes out here.*
*No choice. Bottom up and no one will notice. Then run. We'll meet you en route.*
Crap. Crap. Crap. He spotted a group of tourists, cameras at the ready, being herded by a guide who seemed to be pointing out filming locations from some movie or TV show. They would definitely be too distracted to notice a guy turning invisible in their midst.
He slid into the group and did exactly as she had suggested, starting with his feet he allowed the Quicksilver to flow and slide upwards as fast as he could manage it. By the time he'd passed through the crowd he had vanished. He moved off a few steps, out of the flow of people, checking out the lay of the land. He spotted two guys with hands to their ears and looked to be a tad stressed that they could no longer find their target. A target he suspected was one now invisible man. Though he doubted they knew about his talent, else they'd have thermals on.
Looked like the fox hunt had become literal.
He took off at a run, dodging people who could not see him. *Got at least two near me. Give me an exit plan.*
*Use your normal route, we'll find you.*
Darien had to trust that they would be there for him and did the only thing he could: he ran.
Not that easy on a busy sidewalk, so he shifted out into the street, not into traffic, but right along the parked cars. Risky, given the drivers could not see him, but allowed him to actually move. He had to dodge people and cars to make the turn onto G Street, but barely slowed down to do so.
He had the building within sight when he realized traffic had stopped, cars unmoving on one of the few two-way streets in the city. People still strolled along the sidewalks, seemingly unconcerned by the surprise traffic jam happening beside them. He had a feeling it had been created to make him an easier target.
He made it only another twenty yards before his head exploded in pain and he skidded to a halt, one hand on the hot hood of a parked minivan, the Quicksilver cascading away from his body, the pain and petite mal seizures stripping his control away and leaving him visible and vulnerable in the middle of the street with a great big shoot me now target on his back.
He lifted his head to see Alyx running full tilt towards him, blood coloring the light gray slacks she wore in an ever-growing stain of red, hair streaming behind her. Her face a mask seriousness usually reserved for situations that had gone totally fubar and that could only mean this one had. She came to a startling stop before him, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the side, out into the open giving any and every one a clear view of him.
"D?"
He figured he must be Stage Two at the very least, though based on the pounding in his head probably closer to Three and well on his way to Four. "I got this," he assured her, lying smoothly, when all he wanted was to drag her into the shadows of the building and see exactly what she had on under that low cut shirt she currently wore.
"Don't move," she ordered, making want to snarl and jerk his arm from her grip. He resisted that urge, the more pressing danger of his potential death by high speed projectile forcing him to remain calm for the moment. A radio appeared in her hand from nowhere, but that must have been with her the entire time and he just hadn't noticed what with everything else going on. She released him to adjust the knob on the top and said, "Yakiro, unless you want yet another miss on your record I highly recommend you stand down."
That had to be the strangest thing for her to say in this situation unless… He glanced down at his chest to see one tiny red dot just left of center. A perfect heart shot. He swallowed hard as his adrenaline spiked and those voices in the back of his head silenced as realization struck. Somewhere out there, one of the best assassins in the world had him in his sights and the only thing that might save him was the woman standing before him.
The seconds ticked by far too slowly to be real, but the red dot finally disappeared. Alyx turned her head slightly and several of the better Agency mooks in civvies melted out of the crowd to surround them.
Darien let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Shit," he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, discovering it to be drooping thanks to sweat. "Alyx-"
"Agency, now. I need fresh bandages and you need Counteragent." She reached for his hand and tugged him into motion, not a trace of fear in her demeanor even though she surely could feel what the toxin wanted to do with and to her. She had never been afraid of him and that confidence allowed him to firm up his control, to force those impulses back down and allow him to act like a normal human being who had just had a sniper try and take him out.
"Is he going to go after you?" Darien asked, certain she'd understand.
She shook her head. "Not right now." She tipped her head up to gaze about the canyon of buildings. "He's not the only one out there. We need to put on a good show today."
"A show? Is that all this is?" he snarled, wanting to wrap his hand about her throat and shake… violently. So maybe his control wasn't as in hand as he thought.
"Yep. A show to make them believe we've had Perdue under our roof the entire time. You know that."
And he did. He just wasn't to thrilled about the nearly being shot or the lovely bout of Quicksilver Madness he was currently partaking of. "Where's Hobbes?"
"Guarding the henhouse," she told him, though it took a second for him to figure out that meant he was with Perdue.
"Shouldn't it be the other way 'round?"
She paused, the foursome of non-suits stopping dead as if it had been planned, and she turned to look him in the eye. "He can't stop bullets in mid-air."
Darien rubbed his face in his hands, trying to force that fucking evil genie back into it's bottle for the few minutes it would take to get to the Keep. "Point taken. Let's get off the street. I'm feeling way too exposed… and cranky right about now."
"No shit, you look like you've been on one hell of a bender. Any chance that was a three martini lunch?" She kept her tone light, even as she turned, hand on his arm to get him moving again.
"My head would hurt less if I was drunk," he grouched.
"Today, maybe, tomorrow not so much."
Darien snorted, actually thankful she was keeping the mood as light as possible given the dark thoughts roiling about in his head. "Can't win for losing. Everything go well on the other end?"
"Picture perfect," she assured him as they finally arrived at the building that housed the Agency. "Get traffic moving again and make certain we maintain the perimeter."
"Yes, ma'am," the one hulking agent said, his partner opening the main door for them, like good suits should.
He and Alyx walked inside, the dimmer light easing the pain stabbing through his eyes to bounce off the back of his brain and ricochet about, making those voices up their volume now that one distraction had been removed. "Keep?"
"Yep, you need to see our Claire ASAP. Sorry about that." They made their way to the stairs that would get them to the basement quickly.
"Why sorry? You made the best call you could and I seem to recall you saving my life back there so…"
She smiled shyly, ducking her head and making him want her right then and now. They were the only ones in the stairwell, the Official too cheap for in house security in the deep, dark recesses of the building, which included right here so Darien found no reason to not act on the impulse that shot through his body. Grasping her by the upper arm he spun her about, buried his free hand in her hair and dove in for a kiss.
Damn, it had been too long. Between her injury and him being angry about his dad they hadn't really been together in a couple of weeks and he missed it. She didn't fight him for an instant, one hand coming up to curve about his neck, fingers playing with the curls that tended to form there and making him shiver in unadulterated pleasure.
She opened her mouth when he bit her lip, moaning softly even as he slipped his tongue along hers . He shifted the hand that had been on her arm to pull out her shirt and slide underneath, the feel of her skin silky against his palm. He would have her, now, and to hell with anything else.
He growled softly under his breath, fully intending to remove her shirt when the gland reasserted its dominance, forcing him away from her, back arching as the pain radiated out from within his head to his extremities. No longer able to remain upright, his legs collapsed, but instead of an uncomfortable contact with the hard surface of the landing hands held him tight and lowered him relatively gently to the floor.
In the midst of a mind-searing seizure came a bright pin-prick of pain to his arm and the world vanished in a rush of chemical bliss; the burning, relieving sensation of Counteragent in his system sending him into momentary darkness as it flushed the toxin from his bloodstream.
He came back to awareness to hear Claire admonishing Alyx.
"... straight to the Keep."
He opened his eyes in time to see Alyx shrug. "He got distracted. Better here with me than somewhere more public and potentially dangerous, don't you think?"
He raised his hand and set gentle fingers on her cheek. "You okay?"
She smiled, "Just fine, dearheart, you were very much a gentleman, considering."
"Let's get the two of you to the Keep," Claire suggested, standing and holding out a hand to him.
He took it and stood shakily, his legs feeling wobbly even though… or maybe because the worst of the danger had passed. He noticed blood staining his pant leg. He knew it couldn't be his and remembered noticing her bleeding when running down the street towards him. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. How bad?" he asked of Alyx.
She looked at him in confusion.
Claire, however, noticed, now that Darien wasn't hiding the evidence of her idiocy. "Bloody hell, Alyx. You blew your stitches."
"Really? I hadn't noticed," she sneered. "Given my options, a little bleeding is nothing." She set a hand on Darien's arm. "I am fine and will actually heal now," she assured him. "Slap a bandage on for now, we'll deal with it later, we have a show to put on."
"Where's my… Perdue?" If Claire noticed the slip up she let it pass. He set a hand on Alyx's shoulder for support - to support her, as once the adrenaline wore off her leg was going to start hurting and she would probably be in need of the assistance.
"Downstairs, waiting for Alyx," Claire answered.
"Meet us there with the first aid kit. Oh, and bring a set of scrub pants." Alyx turned to Darien. "You got a spare t-shirt here?"
"Uh, I think so. Why?" He probably sounded as confused as he looked.
"Theater. Need to make it look like he's been here, remember? And that spiffy suit won't cut it."
Darien sighed. "Yeah. Sorry, forgot we're not done yet. I'll grab it." He gave her a quick kiss. "This'll work."
"Of course it will, it's my idea." And on those words she strolled away, heading down the stairs and deeper into the basement.
"You to the Keep," Claire ordered, though there was a hint of a smile on her face. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," he assured her. He followed her down the stairs and through the double doors; the Keep door standing open. "How'd you know we were in the stairwell?" he asked as they entered the dimly lit lab.
"How do you think?"
"Alyx ratted me out?" he mock-complained.
"Justifiably, I would say." She gathered up the items she would need to patch Alyx up. "You understand she had no intention of forcing you to go Mad."
"I know. We all try to make sure I don't go Mad, mostly because I tend to beat the crap out of Alyx when I do." True enough. Though the times he'd gone Mad in the last six months could be counted on one hand, he still had a tendency to target Alyx if she were nearby as she always seemed to be the first thing on his mind, mad or sane. Least these days fists tended to not be involved, sex, however… Yeah, he went there, often.
"Darien… I wish we could safely remove the toxin producing cell from the gland, or that the inhibitor for it worked without worse side-effects than going mad. You and she have come so far, she would do nothing to jeopardize your relationship."
Darien went over to the exam chair and dug a set of scrubs out of the drawer. "Not even for the job?" he snarked.
"Not for anything," Claire stated, hands full of supplies. "I know she is away a lot, on jobs she can't discuss, but she wants to be here with you."
He sighed softly, tossing the scrubs over his shoulder. "I know. And I know she's good, but even she can be grabbed, The Centre proved that. I just… I'm afraid one day she just won't come home and I'll be the one telling her kids." He rubbed a hand through his hair, flattening it down. "And that scares me."
"You do realize she worries the same about you?" Claire had gathered all she needed, but stood there watching him with those penetrating blue eyes of hers.
He sighed softly and looked away. "Yeah, I know, but it's not like I get to stray too far from the loving bosom of the Agency."
Claire snorted. "But you are put in no less danger. More in some ways as you are always close to home and there are those who know it."
Shit. This was so messed up. He just wanted a life with her, but the majority of their time was taken up with saving the world. And his own ass. "It's not fair," he muttered, mostly at that uncaring world.
"No, it's not, but it is the life you have." She moved next to him, looking up into his eyes. "You still have the option to leave when you are ready."
"Yeah, I know. Just been a week is all, ignore my moping, 'kay?"
"After a bout out Madness, I most certainly will not hold some moodiness against you." She took a couple steps towards the door, glancing back over her shoulder at him. "Shall we?"
He nodded and trailed after her. He dashed down the hall to the back access to the tiny parking lot behind the Agency and the van he and Hobbes spent most of their time in and where he had learned to keep a spare change of clothes. Sadly, he couldn't remember if said clothes were clean, but it probably didn't matter for Alyx's plan.
He arrived in time to see Claire tsking over the state of Alyx's leg, who sat there with a bored expression on her face. The ruined pants draped over the back of a chair replaced with a stylish pair of Fish & Game shorts. The admonishments had clearly worn thin over the last couple of weeks. He gave her a smile of encouragement, knowing she didn't really need the doctor's help, but that she allowed Claire to do her job just because. Alyx had such heart, and wanted nothing more than a normal life… with him and they, so long as they were who and what they were, would never have it in anything but tiny bits and pieces. Nows and thens that kept them from going mad and railing at the world about the unfairness of it all.
He set the duffle down and pawed through it to find the plain white t-shirt, which he pulled out. He handed the shirt and scrub bottoms over to his dad. Who took them with a bemused look on his face. He'd lost the jacket and tie, the sleeves of the crisp blue dress shirt precisely rolled to mid-forearm. He looked as if he'd been born to wear a business suit. "I take it the plan has not been shared yet?"
"Drake is grabbing the make up kit, we'll be ready to go in ten minutes," Alyx said, the bored look deepening. "If you would change into those, Mr. Perdue."
Mason cocked a single eyebrow, but nodded. "Of course." Then moved off to a secluded corner of the room to do so.
"Why is he not in handcuffs?" Claire asked in honest curiosity. She completed wrapping the gauze around Alyx's thigh then taped it into place.
"Because he is not our prisoner. He came in voluntarily, however, we need those watching to believe he's been here in our… guest room." Alyx glanced over at Mason as he stepped back out. "And he needs to look the part." She stood up and walked over to meet Mason halfway, taking the neatly folded business clothes from him and set them on a table. She dug into the duffle and pulled out a tub of hair goop. She gestured at Mason's hair. "May I?"
He grinned and nodded, squatting down a bit so that she could reach. She opened the jar, dug some out, smearing it on both hands then proceeded to bury them in Mason's hair. She made sure to work it in completely then with a seemingly casual effort ran her hands through in a smooth motion then stepped back so he could stand. The hair had gone from business perfect to tousled bedhead with a side of prison bunk.
Darien was actually impressed. "And the make up?"
Alyx went to the sink to rinse her hands off, the limp still there, but not as bad as it had been in the previous week. "No one's going to buy clean shaven if he's been in our cell. Going to fake up some scruff."
Mason chuckled. "You really do have all the angles covered, don't you?"
She shrugged. "I do my best."
"You do better than that," Claire stated, narrowed eyes shifting from one Fawkes to the other and making Darien wonder what was up. "Do you need me for anything else?"
"No, Keepy. Though you should probably stay in the Keep, safest spot in here for the next little while," Darien told her. She didn't know Perdue was anything other than a former agent they were helping and he wasn't certain if he wanted her to know. They had been trying awfully hard to not reveal exactly who Perdue was and why he seemed to be of importance to the two of them. Alyx kept the emotions hidden better, but if push came to shove she would tell those she thought necessary in order to achieve their goals. He'd gotten better at his poker face when it came to the personal overlapping with work, but she was still better; could divorce the two even when they were one and the same.
"All right. Let me know if you need anything," Claire said as she gathered up the items and left the room.
Drake came in as she went out. "Here's the kit," he said, giving a nod to the Keeper as he passed her.
"Thanks, Drake. Are the sharks circling yet?" Alyx gestured for him to set the kit on the table with the other accoutrements of her current trade.
He rubbed his face with one hand. "You have no clue. We might as well have broadcast this live on TV considering how many eyes are on this building right now."
"Jammers still working?" she asked as she dug into the kit and removing the items she wanted. Mason had already grabbed a chair and sat down near her.
"Just as you planned. They are hearing nothing we don't want them to," Drake assured her. "You really need to show me how you make these toys so fast."
Darien snorted. "You're assuming she didn't have them stashed somewhere, just waiting to bring them out to play." Which she had. With the workroom they'd installed in the house when an idea struck she could work on it immediately instead of waiting for a chance to get out to the storage unit. She had created any number of interesting toys for any number of interesting purposes, only a few of which she had revealed at work. Hell, some of them had been made just for him and his off the book excursions.
"Time to assume your positions. Garner and Johns ready to play the heavies?"
"Waiting right outside," Drake said with a nod. "We going full show with cuffs?"
She glanced over at Mason. "You gonna be a good boy or should we cuff ya?"
Mason snorted. "I daresay I can play the part of one who has not be held in the most pleasant of accommodations."
Drake rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. I'll inform the Official that we're ready. Five minutes?"
Alyx nodded. She waited for him to leave before sighing softly.
"You okay, sweets?" Darien sidled up next to her and set what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Just getting tired is all. I'll be glad when we can move on from this stupid game." She looked over at Mason. "I do not want… outsiders aware of your connection to Darien, however, I fear we may need to reveal it to the Official to get him to play along fully. Are you two prepared for that?"
Mason glanced over at his son before answering, "We already discussed this; if necessary you tell him. That said, I would guess, based on your reluctance, that you suspect the Official would use it against Darien and you."
"There is nothing he won't use to manipulate us," Darien groused. Their boss had and still would, though certain things had been taken off the table when Darien had chosen to stay with the Agency. Their boss still tried any tactic he could to get them to toe the line, though often it wasn't really necessary, he just felt the need to flex his bossy muscles now and then. "But I'll take some manipulation if it'll keep you safe."
Mason nodded slowly. "Same here. If it's the only way to guarantee your plan working, then, yes, we will let the Official know exactly who I am."
Alyx tipped her head to one side. "Why do I get the feeling the 'Fish would be better off not knowing."
Mason just smiled.
"All right, enough with the badassery, let's get this show on the road," Darien grumbled, wondering if he would ever have half the confidence his father did.
. . .
The Official sat behind his desk frowning. Perdue stood between Garner and Johns looking tired and bedraggled. He stood there in his stocking feet, blue scrub pants and white t-shirt looking like utter crap. Between Alyx's make up job and his father's obvious acting skills, Darien doubted anyone watching would not believe what was about to go down for a second.
Drake stood behind and to the right of the Official, just like Eberts had once upon a time. Hobbes had perched on the edge of the desk, arms crossed over his chest, look wary. Alyx, after a quick change to a fresh unbloodied pair of slacks, and Darien had come in together, following behind Perdue and his bookends. Darien took over the end of the conference table while Alyx walked over to the windows and proceeded to open all the blinds, allowing in the early afternoon sunlight.
They would be hiding nothing on this occasion. Alyx wanted to make certain everyone who was spying on them would feel like idiots, and would know that it wasn't just the Agency protecting Perdue, but her. And while the Official had some power and the ability to stave off most internal attacks, Alyx wanted to make it clear that messing with her would not end well for anyone.
"So, Perdue, I'm given to understand you not enjoying your current accommodations," the Official said, a hint of a smug smile on his face.
Perdue shrugged. "I've been in worse."
The Official's look hardened. "I can downgrade if you'd prefer."
Perdue sighed softly. "Not necessary. I am willing to deal, if you are."
"If you make it worth my while, of course," the Official replied magnanimously, spreading his hands wide. "What is it you want?"
"My life back would be nice," Perdue groused.
"I doubt I'll be able to accomplish that, however, I might be able to provide you a new one." The Official just oozed confidence, which he probably should given he had Perdue over a barrel.
Darien knew this drama playing out before him was just that, a play, theatre for the benefit of those watching, but in a sense it was also very real. The Official would get something for this one way or another, sadly it would most likely be Alyx to give up more of her life to do what she felt were right for his father. Damn it all. He hated when she became backed into a corner.
"In exchange for what?" Perdue asked, sounding justifiably suspicious.
"What do you have that interests me?"
Perdue looked irritated. "Information, of course. I do believe that is why so many of them want me dead."
The Official nodded sagely. "And if I were interested in your… other skills?"
Darien felt a zing of adrenaline shoot through him at the very thought his boss would use his father as an assassin. Alyx met his eyes, concern for him buried in hers, so he sucked it up and trusted his father would do the right thing. What the right thing was on this occasion remained unknown.
"I've retired. If information isn't enough then…" Perdue shrugged. It wasn't like there were any better offers. The Official could put him on ice indefinitely if he wanted to.
"And if I choose to just put you back into the cage?"
Perdue snorted. "Do you really think your… creative security is why I'm still here? I have a target on my back, first reasonable deal gets what I know. It's that simple."
The Official drummed his fingers on the desk, pretending to contemplate if the intel would be worth the expense. The whole world could see the instant he decided yes. He nodded. "Agreed, a new life in exchange for all you know. I will-"
"No."
Darien blinked, wondering exactly where the hell that had come from. Mason had agreed to give them intel to get him this new lease on life, and maybe spend some time with his family.
The Official's face darkened noticeably.
"So, you want us to bury you in a hole?" Hobbes asked, playing the part of the heavy to the hilt.
"No. I want to deal, but with her." Perdue pointed at Alyx, who kept her look bland.
*Baby?*
*Not my idea. He came up with this all on his own.*
"Why her?" Drake asked, sounding legitimately curious as to the older ex-agents reasoning.
Perdue turned to look at Alyx. "Because, although she had no reason to, she helped me when everyone else presumed my guilt."
The Official sighed softly. "Again, if I say no?"
Perdue just tipped his head to the side.
"Fine," the Official huffed, "Agent Silver will handle any and all debriefings. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Good. You will be escorted back downstairs while we make arrangements to move you to our safe house. Does that work for you?"
"I'll have all the paperwork drawn up for you to review before you leave," Drake added quickly.
Of course the Official would want it in writing. Is dotted and Ts crossed as always. Plus, in this case, it covered his own ass when those above his pay grade started making calls to ask why he had chosen to help Perdue instead of eliminate the perceived threat.
"That'll do," Perdue agreed. With a quick glance at Darien he allowed his two shadows to escort him from the room. Not to the cell,which he had never even been near, but back to the blue room to change and wait for them to get back to him.
Alyx pushed away from the wall, preparing to leave when the Official cleared his throat. "A moment agents, if you would."
"Sure, boss, whatcha need?" Hobbes asked shifting to stand next to Darien, who hadn't budged from his perch, while Alyx proceeded to walk down the line of windows and close the blinds, leaving the room in near darkness for a moment before the lights kicked on. She held up a finger, keeping them silent for a few more seconds then nodded.
"Okay, jammers are back on; we are free to talk."
"I do not appreciate you going behind my back with Perdue," the Official rumbled, look dark.
Alyx shook her head. "I didn't, I promise. You wanted to make the deal and that's what I told him."
"Why you?" Drake asked in place of the Official.
She shrugged. "You would have to ask him, I suppose."
"Maybe he just trusts her more since she saved his ass six months ago," Hobbes suggested, and it had some logic to it, but based on the look on their boss's face it wouldn't cut it.
Still the Official gave the official slow nod that said he could buy that line, legitimate or not. "So why do you care? Yes, the easiest way to get Royce off Fawkes' back involved exposing what he'd done to Perdue, but his current level of trust in you seems unwarranted."
"Does there need to be a reason?" Darien questioned, hoping like hell to derail the Official from this track.
The boss turned his eyes to Darien. "On this occasion there does. She has gone out on a limb for this man, gone behind my back, has used her personal resources to protect him and arrange a new life for him. I want to know why."
Alyx said, "Drake, I need you to leave."
Drake pouted much to Darien's amusement. "Why?"
She cocked her head. "Plausible deniability."
The Official chuckled. "Go, Drake. If I feel you need to know I will fill you in."
"And Hobbes gets to stay," Drake sounded indignant. "Why does he get to know?"
"You're presuming he doesn't already, and she," Darien pointed at Alyx, "does not answer to you," he responded his voice utterly bland.
Drake actually looked offended, and opened his mouth to continue his bitching, but Alyx ran over the top of him.
"Quentin, I'm trying to protect you."
His mouth snapped shut and he nodded curtly. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Of course," she said.
Silence settled over the room as Drake grabbed his laptop and left through the glass door. The silence continued for several ever-increasingly tense minutes until Hobbes broke the uneasy stalemate.
"Kid, how many?"
She shifted her weight off her right leg and leaned back against the wall. "Oh, only four… shots. I discouraged about a half dozen others."
Darien would have spit out his drink if he'd been drinking one. "Damn. Are they that afraid of what he knows?"
She nodded then turned to their boss. "Hypothetically?"
He tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement of her request of prevarication. "If you prefer."
"What if one ex-rogue-agent were related to a certain former employee who visited about six months ago?"
Darien watched the Official process that roundabout information, the plethora of emotions crawling across his features. When realization struck as to what she had not directly said he actually swore. "How long have you known?"
"We figured it out when Doc Fawkes was visiting," Hobbes answered.
The Official removed his glasses and set them on the table. "So, this is personal."
"Of course, and don't forget I did make the effort to not directly involve you or the Agency."
"Which you did solely to take the target off of Perdue's back and put it on mine," he stated. "A good move I might add."
"Until you found out about it," Darien muttered.
"Also true," The Official agreed. "They are going to push even harder now."
"I'm counting on it," she stated.
"She has a plan," Darien told him, hell told himself. She had a plan and it would work and his dad would be free and they would have a chance to be some warped version of family, and no matter how hard it would be worth the risks.
"To her… your credit, you always have a plan."
"And you don't?" she snarked. "I knew there would be some serious repercussions to the Royce incident, hell, I'm still discovering shit I never wanted to know, and so I prepared for the inevitable."
"Why do I have the feeling you have not disclosed much of this… shit to me?" The Official didn't seem overly upset, he had learned that Alyx always had a reason for what she did even if he didn't always approve of or agree with it. The reasoning still remained valid.
She rubbed her forehead. "Not today, sir. I need to focus on this. I will give you a report next week on what I suspect, if that is agreeable."
Something in her tone must have warned the Official she wasn't stalling or obfuscating, as the instant flush of anger vanished very quickly and he nodded. Darien wanted to know now as just the hint she'd given was kinda freaking him the fuck out. Whatever she had learned worried her, which meant it had to be big and bad with all caps.
And then he wanted to give her a hug. All that shit she knew and kept to herself, unable to share the strain or stress with anyone and yet she could still let it all go the moment she walked in the front door at their home.
"This explains why Royce was so interested in him," the Official said, as he waved vaguely at Darien.
Shit. Why hadn't he put those pieces together all on his own. They had suspected Royce knew about the gland's extra talent of being able to host another consciousness, but to only now realize that he'd wanted to use Darien also because of familial connection… well, frankly, it caused his brain to hurt.
"We really need to find out who spilled the beans to Royce," Hobbes stated. "That info is more dangerous in some ways that just knowing he can go invisible. What if he gets grabbed and some idiot shoves some random schmuck into his head? I mean, yeah, I get it could be useful for getting intel from a dead agent or something if there were no other way, but Fawkesy here shouldn't be playing medium to someone's dead great-aunt just because she was important to some bigwig senator with more power than sense."
The repercussions to the whole Royce mess were still reverberating through the spy community, with Alyx at the epicenter of it all trying to piece together what had gone on, when, and ordered by whom with little or nothing to go on.
"Bobby, he's as safe as he's going to be for now. Until I can figure out who was pulling Royce's strings and shut him down that's about all we can hope for." She ran her hands through her hair, fingers getting caught in snarls the days whirlwind activities had created. "We all have targets on our backs, we just can't let them slow us down."
That stopped Hobbes' budding rant cold. The reality was that they were never safe, safer, yes, every now and then, but never truly safe.
"And what is my next move?" the Official asked, clearly allowing Alyx to take point on this. And the blame should things fall apart at the seams.
She gave them a wan smile. "You need to prepare. They are going to start calling soon and you need to decide how to handle them."
"They are going to try to force you to renege on the deal," Hobbes added unnecessarily.
"Will I actually get anything out of this deal?" the Official questioned.
Alyx grinned. "That is the one thing I am certain of. We're just going to have to give them what they want first."
"And what is it they want?" the Official asked even though he already knew the answer. He wanted it said out loud by one of them.
"Perdue dead, what else. And once they are certain of it he'll be free to live his life and feed us every bit of intel he has in his head with no one the wiser," Darien explained, given he, in some ways, had the most to lose in this situation. Of course his dad could lose his life and that would be horrible. He could not lose his dad again; not so soon anyway.
"A decent plan. But they will want proof."
"They'll have it," Alyx assured him. "Is there anything else right now? I have arrangements to make."
The Official raised a finger. "One more: is Perdue going to remain in the building for the time being?"
She shook her head. "Safe house. I have no intention on placing anything or anyone in this building in the line of fire. We'll make a big production out of it, but he won't be in the vehicle they'll be following and not in the place they expect him to be. Not yet anyway. When the time comes they'll be able to find him, promise."
"Good enough. Fill me in on what I need to know and I'll trust you to handle the minutiae." He leaned back in the chair looking satisfied. "And get some rest; even being shot by Yakiro shouldn't have you looking this worn."
She snorted. "Yes, sir."
Darien slid off the table and went to her, and he had to agree with the Official, she looked worn, trying to juggle too many things and keep everyone happy at the same time took its toll, and it was showing. Him not being exactly helpful only exacerbated the problems. Even after everything he was still her center and she would be off balance when he was being pissy with her. His moods affecting her no matter how hard they tried to prevent it.
"C'mon, you. Let's get this started so we can all get some rest."
She nodded and allowed him to provide support as she limped towards the door, Hobbes taking up position behind them as they left the room to head back downstairs.
"We'll meet at the house by seven. Food and libations will be provided for all."
"Cool. And until then?"
"Using a ton a Quicksilver to make Forrester Perdue disappear," she said with a sigh.
"Fun," Darien muttered. "Will I being joining in on this adventure?"
"Yep," she informed him, ducking her head so that she looked at the floor. "Sorry, 'bout that."
Darien shook his head. "No worries. I'm in, even if it does mean multiple shots in one day." And he meant it. She'd been right, this was family and you did whatever it took, even if it meant going Mad and being jabbed by huge honking needles more often than he preferred.
"Okay. Let's get to Perdue and put together the team we need to pull this off."
"Lead the way," Hobbes said opening the door to the stairwell and waving her through. "This should be interesting."
Yeah, that was an understatement.