Leverage

by A. X. Zanier

A joint mission leads to the discovery of another secret project at The Centre.

3. Chapter 3

Hobbes's cell phone rang just as he was about to take a bite of the sandwich he had made. He sighed, set the food down and walked over to the table where he'd left it. The caller ID was Alyx's. "Hey, kid, where you at?"

"Good frickin' question," she muttered. "We ran into some trouble at the estate. The family is alive, though Mr. Hurst was not there."

"I'm putting you on speaker, kid." He pressed the button and set the phone on the coffee table Fawkes's feet were currently resting on. "Hurst was with Goodrowe at the warehouse. The man is a sicko."

"With a dash of psycho," Darien added. "We need to stop this guy."

"Did you learn when the guns are going to be moved?" Jarod asked, voice sounding tinny over the intervening distance.

"Was supposed to be tomorrow, but this storm is shutting down the whole state. There's a blizzard behind all the ice. We have... a bug planted, so we'll hopefully get some warning, but there's not much else we can do right now." Hobbes hated that they were stuck with no options, but when mother nature chose to do her worst all you could do was hunker down and wait it out. The one good thing this time was that the bad guys were just as stuck as they were.

"And we're not going to make it back to the resort tonight," Alyx stated and Hobbes watched as Darien frowned deeply.

"Everything okay, kid?"

"No, but it's nothing we can't handle," she replied, trying to sound confident to Hobbes' ears, but missing the mark by a wide margin in his opinion. "We're looking for a house or cabin to wait out the storm. I should be able to keep us in contact unless the cell towers go down."

"Convenient," Darien muttered, that frown on his features deepening.

"What happened?" Hobbes asked, needing to understand, and make certain she was all right. She was good, damn good, but shit still happened and if she were hurt or in trouble he would do whatever was necessary to fix it.

They could hear the sigh across the line. "Jarod got shot. We're too far out to make it back before the storm worsens, and... and we didn't want to risk leading Goodrowe's goons back to you. Leaves you free to make a play if we can't get back in time."

Hobbes couldn't argue with that and it was exactly what he'd do. A glance at Fawkes revealed his total lack of enthusiasm for this plan, but it was her call, not theirs. She was a big girl and could handle both herself and Miner. "He gonna make it?"

Jarod laughed. "Yes, Agent Hobbes, I'll be fine if we can get undercover soon."

Hobbes didn't like that phrasing, and neither did Fawkes, apparently. "What else?" he asked.

The silence held for a long moment before Alyx responded, "We were outside when the storm first hit, we got a wee bit drenched."

"And the temp is dropping quickly," Darien finished, the reality of the situation hitting him quickly. Hobbes could see when he came to the only logical decision. "Get inside and get warm ASAP. Neither of you will be of any use frozen. Call us when you're secure."

"Will do," Alyx said, not sounding happy with the situation, which she shouldn't be. "Take care you two, this storm is going to get nasty and fast."

"Don't worry about us, sweets, you take care of yourself," Darien told her in no uncertain terms. "And Jarod," he added quickly.

"I will, D. Call you as soon as we're secure," she said and then the line went dead, hopefully from her hanging up instead of things going fubar.

"They'll be fine, Fawkes," Hobbes assured his partner as he picked up and pocketed his phone, heading back to the kitchen and his meal.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Darien stated, that frown returning.

"Fawkes..." Hobbes wasn't certain what to say. The kid could play the game well, she would use her womanly wiles, so to speak, to get info just like any of them would, but Miner had called them in, no need to seduce the man. Now, that didn't mean the ATF agent wouldn't make some moves on her, but Hobbes couldn't see her responding. She was crazy about Fawkes, no way she'd screw that up for a fling with another agent, no matter how handsome.

"I know, Hobbes. I just..." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "I wonder why she's with me, y'know? No matter how much I want her, need her, I still wonder if she wants to be here."

Hobbes had suspected that, knew that under the bravado his partner had a decided lack of self-confidence, and where the kid was concerned... Hobbes could reassure his friend till he was blue in the face that the kid would always come back to him, but it would mean nothing coming from him. Hell, coming from Alyx. Until Fawkes realized all on his own that Alyx was his, he would never believe and would always doubt, in himself and in her. "Fawkes..." he shook his head, "this is convo you need to have with her, not me."

Fawkes sighed. "Yeah, I know, but she ain't here, you are." He stood, brow knitted with unhappiness. "She's off with Jarod," he sneered.

"Who's been shot," Hobbes reminded.

"So she says."

"Fawkes-"

Darien waved a hand to cut off the words. "I know, no reason for her to lie."

"Exactly, my friend." Hobbes picked up his sandwich and drink, carried them to the dining table and sat down. "I'm just hoping they get under cover soon, they could easily freeze to death if stuck outside all night."

Darien rubbed his face in his hands, his entire demeanor changing in an instant. "They'll be fine, I'm betting she had every road and building anywhere near the estate memorized. She has a plan... Hell, she always has a plan even if she doesn't tell us about it."

Hobbes chuckled softly. "Ain't that the truth. Saved our butts more than a few times with that annoying habit of hers. Might be saving her own tonight."

Darien nodded in agreement. "All right, enough worrying for now. If we haven't heard from them in six hours, then I'll panic and screw the mission, we're calling in the cavalry to find 'em."

"Agreed. Now eat something, you're the reason we picked up all this food, remember?"

Darien swiped half of the sandwich off Hobbes' plate and took a huge bite before he could even complain of the theft.

"Thanks, Bobby."

"Welcome, Fawkes," he grouched, though it was mostly fake, actually amused at Fawkes being himself. Still, it was looking to be a long, long night for both of them.

…

The Centre

Blue Cove, Delaware

…

Broots nervously entered the room where Sydney was working with Angelo. The disk he held in his hands could get him killed, just like almost everything else he'd done for Sydney or Miss Parker the last few years. He shuffled over to the computer in the center of the room and sat down at it. Sydney finished with Angelo and joined Broots at the desk.

"I found it... her, and it's really weird." He inserted the disk and called up the information he'd copied. "Oracle was an offshoot of The Pretender Program. The goal was to predict future events, but not just an single outcome, all of the potential ones."

Miss Parker blinked. "All potential outcomes? Predict the future and then choosing the best path to follow?" She turned to Sydney. "Is that even possible?"

"They apparently thought so," Sydney responded. "What happened to the program?"

Broots shook his head. "Most of the embryos were miscarried, the only ones that survived to birth were the McTierney twins."

Miss Parker's eyes went wide. "And what made them so special?"

"Perfect," Angelo muttered. "Perfect copies."

Miss Parker jumped on that one word. "Copies of whom?"

Sydney found the nearest chair and sat down in it heavily. "I don't even want to speculate, but given the one person that has been successfully... copied, I fear we all know the answer."

"You're telling me this Michael is another Jarod clone? What about the sister?" Miss Parker paced about the room. "And I thought they hadn't perfected their technique till... till..." she trailed off.

"Twins, not clones," Angelo argued, head shaking violently. "Not the same."

"Why weren't they brought into The Centre?" Sydney questioned.

"Luck of the weird kind," Broots explained, voice shaking. "Both children became part of a government program code named QSX. The genetic changes made to them as infants caused The Centre to cancel the project."

"So not only were these two children the only survivors of this Oracle project, but they got dragged into a second one run by the government?" Miss Parker questioned in utter disbelief. "How unlucky can these two be?"

"I'd say they were the opposite, they could have spent their lives living here," Broots pointed out.

"What was the goal of the QSX project?" Sydney asked.

"In short, genetic improvement of the species," Broots answered.

"And in detail?" Miss Parker prompted.

"You won't believe me."

"Try me," she stated coldly, sitting down on the edge of his desk.

"Invisibility and ESP."

Sydney snorted in utter disbelief. "You must be kidding."

"I wish I was. And according to the project notes I accessed, both children were tested and considered viable for Phase II of the project."

Miss Parker closed her eyes for a long moment. "You're telling me they succeeded?"

"Yes, but the program was discontinued and Phase II was never initiated," Broots told them. "The agency involved no longer exists."

"So how did she end up working with Jarod?" Sydney questioned in clear confusion.

"I don't know. According to public records, Michele McTierney is dead. Died in a car accident almost three years ago at age thirty-six." Broots hadn't been thrilled to learn the truth. The woman in the photo was in her twenties at most, which meant... which meant he didn't want to know.

"Are we certain they are the same woman?" Sydney asked.

"Oh yes," Angelo insisted. "Always the same."

"This is insane. So we have potential clones of Jarod running around that have been given superpowers?" Miss Parker summed up. "Good damn thing The Centre lost track of them."

Broots felt the blood drain from his face. "That's just it, they didn't. They've been watching them all along."

Miss Parker and Sydney exchanged a look that frightened Broots more than he already was.

"Who is in charge of their surveillance, Broots?"

Broots swallowed with some difficulty. "Mr. Lyle."

Miss Parker sighed heavily. "Why am I not surprised." She tipped her head to the side. "When Jarod contacts you have him warn her. The last thing that woman needs is to be dragged into The Centre. She might do well to stay far away from Jarod."

"Clearly, it is too late for that," Sydney pointed out. "Is Lyle currently aware she is with Jarod?"

Broots shook his head. "I honestly don't know. While responsible for monitoring her, I doubt he deals with it personally. Given Oracle is defunct I suspect they just want to keep an eye on her because she survived."

Sydney nodded in agreement. "The Centre never lets go of anything... not for long anyway."

"This is not going to end well, is it?" Broots groused.

Miss Parker got to her feet. "Does it ever?" She walked away, heading for the door. "Keep me informed."

…

Vacation cabin

Montana, Northern Rockies

…

"How did you know this place was here?" Jarod asked Alyx as he draped a blanket about her shoulders, her teeth still chattering.

Alyx looked up at him with a grateful smile, she was bloody freezing. Finding this place had been a challenge, oh, once she'd found the power lines it had been comparatively simple to follow them, but keeping the jeep on the road and the windshield clear enough to see through at the same time had taxed her resources. Then once inside the cabin they'd quickly deduced it was for summer use as opposed to a hunting cabin. While power for the fridge and freezer unit existed and remained on, there was no heat. Thankfully, there had been a fireplace and wood piled neatly under a tarp outside the back door. It had taken close to an hour, but they'd gotten the needed breakers flipped to get the lights on, and a fire started, which they now huddled in front of, in borrowed clothes. The family that had been here last had left behind a selection of summer wear, which they had both raided, their own clothes soaked through. Better dry and ill-fitting clothes than those dripping wet and shedding ice and snow.

"Power lines, how else?" she told him, rotating about to look at him as he sat next to her.

He chuckled. "Guess I should have figured that one out on my own. There is soup heating on the stove and I found some hot cocoa mix, once the water is hot I'll make us some."

"You are bleeding again," she stated, as the blanket about his shoulders slipped aside to reveal the bloodstained sleeve of his borrowed shirt. She should have dealt with that right away, but other needs had taken precedence at the time.

"It can wait till you're warm. Rather you have steady hands when you're sticking forceps in my arm."

Alyx shook her head. "You are making the bold and incorrect assumption that I need to use forceps," she told him. She shifted up onto her knees, moving the blanket and shirtsleeve aside to get a better look at the wound. "Is the first aid kit nearby? I want to clean this out and get a bandage on as soon as possible after I get the bullet out."

He tipped his head to the side, a serious look on his features. "You're not kidding are you?"

"Nope. My Florence Nightingale routine may be mediocre at best, but it's all we have right now." She gazed about the room, spotted the kit over by their clothes, which were draped over every available vertical surface in hopes of them drying prior to them taking their leave of the cabin. She wrapped the blanket tighter about her shoulders and padded over to the end table, retrieved the kit and returned to Jarod's side.

He set a hand over hers. "This can wait."

She sucked in a breath, thankful she felt nothing other than his hand on hers. While not even close to being sense blind, she was tired and didn't want any part of having Jarod's thoughts and emotions overwhelming hers. Granted, she couldn't help but know his general feelings thanks to that surprise connection and nearness, but it was just background noise, nothing that demanded her attention. "No, it can't. What? You afraid I'm going to turn into a girl and faint or something?"

Jarod chuckled softly. "That is the last thing I am worried about." He shifted, so that she had better access to the wound. "Let's get this done."

Alyx went through the kit, removing the miniscule alcohol swabs, gauze and medical tape, setting them all within easy reach. She ripped open two of the alcohol packages, then met Jarod's eyes and winked, making him smile. "This is going to hurt." She focused her mind, seeking out and finding the slug of metal buried in his shoulder. Near as she could tell it had missed the bone, and only the muscle had been damaged, thankfully not all that badly as he'd been using it, though with a limited range of motion. Once certain she had the bullet, she pulled as quickly as she dared, backing it out the same hole it had created during its violent entry.

Jarod grunted in discomfort, eyes widening as he saw the bullet hanging in the air between them. Using his left hand, he grasped it and Alyx released her hold, allowing him to take it while she squeezed as much of the alcohol she could out of the swabs and onto the bullet hole. He scrunched up his face at the stinging sensation, but his focus remained on the bullet he now held.

"You're a telekinetic," he stated, not looking at her, still fascinated with the blood-covered bullet between his fingers.

"Nope," she responded, probing gently at the freshly bleeding wound. She cleaned it as best she good with the lack of appropriate supplies and then bandaged it. When she finished she met Jarod's eyes, complete with questioning look in them. "What?"

He shook his head laughing softly. "You're going to make me work for this, aren't you?"

She shrugged and moved to clean up the mess she'd made patching him up. "I have the feeling you aren't challenged very often."

"You'd be right." The teakettle began whistling then. "Stay, I'll get it," he told her in no uncertain terms, not that she was about to argue, she wanted little more than to scoot closer to the fire and thaw out. She watched as he padded across the room, the blanket left behind on the floor as he headed for the tiny kitchen in this tiny cabin.

With a minor expenditure of energy she moved the sofa closer to the fireplace, wanting to lean back against it. She stared into the flames, not wanting to think about anything of importance, Jarod's thoughts and emotions a quiet mutter in the back of her mind. With focus, Darien came to the forefront of her mind. He was not a happy camper right now, wanting to know where she was, if she were safe... all jumbled up and tangled together. He felt... off, but she had no idea why. Reaching for her pile of belongings, she snagged her cell phone and dialed Darien's.

After three rings it was answered. "Alyx? Everything all right?"

She forced her teeth to not chatter. "Good enough. Found a vacation cabin to spend the night in. We won't freeze to death anyway."

Jarod came out with two cups of hot cocoa, handed one to her and then sat gingerly on the edge of the couch without saying a word.

"Well that's always a plus. We've been warned the resort might lose power thanks to the ice, but so far so good."

"And I'm just hoping a tree won't fall and crush us. We're out in the middle of nowhere. On the plus side, doubt the bad guys followed us," Alyx told him, keeping her tone light. "We'll be out of here the first chance we get."

"Don't take any unnecessary risks. If the roads suck they suck." There was a pause and the sound of the phone being fought over, though she had no idea why.

"Kid, I already told you not to worry about us. Stay safe and undercover. When you can head back down the mountain let us know, until then take care of yourselves, got me?"

Alyx glanced over at Jarod who looked amused at the gruff, maternal tone Hobbesy's voice had taken on.

"I got it, Bobby, now put Darien back on."

"S'up, sweets?"

"Just wanted to make certain you were all right. I know I'm tired, but you feel... off to me."

There was muttering for a few seconds, before he finally responded, "I'm fine... I think."

"You think? Talk to me, D."

"It's nothing much, just some residual numbness from the shock and..." he trailed off, reluctance to continue obvious in his tone of voice.

"And? If you don't want me to worry... or walk down this mountain to get to you, telling me might be wise about now."

Jarod snorted, realizing she was not joking.

"I... Claire dosed me with the new inhibitor and it seems to be working."

"Damn," Alyx muttered. "Any weirdness?"

There was silence for long minutes, so long Alyx worried that the phone line had gone down in the storm, but he finally spoke, "I don't think so?"

"But you're not sure," she stated, closing her eyes to better feel him across the intervening distance. She wished she could be there, wanted to be there, but once again the job had separated them, the needs of others taking precedence over their lives.

"No, I'm not sure. I feel, much as you said, off."

Static crackled across the line, which boded ill for the connection lasting much longer, so she hurried. "The new inhibitor works differently, so trust your gut. The monitor calibration could be incorrect... so don't wait until the visible symptoms appear. If you even think you need a shot, start with a half dose and go from there."

Darien audibly sighed. "A plan. I'll fill Hobbesy in. You... you come back to me in one piece, understand?" The static had gotten so pronounced that he could barely be heard.

"I promise," she assured him, but was uncertain if he'd heard as the signal dissolved into white noise and then went dead. "Shit," she muttered.

"Problem?" Jarod asked.

"Signal died, and since we still have power, I suspect it's either the cell tower or the resort. Darien said they might lose power." She set her phone aside with a sigh. "Now I'm worried about them being safe." She rubbed her face in her hands.

Jarod set a hand on her shoulder. "They will be fine. They are more than capable of handling themselves."

"I know," She smiled up at him, "but I'll still worry."

"You care about both of them... as more than just partners."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she grouched and sipped at the hot chocolate, which had barely cooled enough to be tolerable. Her stomach growled, wanting more that the sugary calories of the drink, her body, however, enjoyed the faux-warming effect, her shivers finally beginning to ease.

Jarod shook his head. "No, not a bad thing, though not a good thing either. It just is I suppose. I'm just concerned that your attention will be divided when it comes time to do the job," he explained in a soft voice, going for the gentlest impact possible. He had no idea that the concern, though justified was unwarranted.

"Trust me, Jarod, the job comes first. I may worry, but it won't interfere," she assured him.

He cocked his head slightly. "I do trust you, but you clearly have more than a working relationship with Fawkes, especially given the way he ordered me to bring you back undamaged."

Alyx rolled her eyes. "He can be a bit... possessive."

"Your... Agency permits relationships between co-workers?"

Alyx shook her head. "Nope, but me and Darien are exceptions to just about every rule written for the spy biz." She yawned then, finally warm enough for the stress of the afternoon to take hold of her. "Sorry, finding this place took quite a bit out of me."

He bounced an eyebrow upwards. "I take it the drive would not have been quite so smooth without your other abilities."

"You take it correctly." She could smell the soup, her stomach growling even louder this time, loud enough for Jarod to hear. She pushed herself upright and made her way to the kitchen. She picked up the wooden spoon and gave the contents of the pot a stir. She didn't have to turn about to know Jarod had followed her, his mind a cool, confident presence in hers. "Darien and I... we come from outside the system, neither of us planned to end up as spies... lucky for us we're both very good at it."

"I suspect you don't have the same jealousy issues." He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

She dug in the drawers, found a normal spoon, and used it to taste the soup. It may have been canned, but it wasn't half bad. "He still has trouble separating work from... us. He's trying, but sometimes..." She trailed off, shuffling about to find bowls so that the two of them could actually eat.

"Considering you were married to your work at one point, I can't say that I blame him." Jarod moved to help her, reaching for the bowls that were foolishly placed on the top shelf, when even stretched on her toes she couldn't get to them.

"Thanks." She took the bowls and filled them with soup, handing one to him. "So you know about Ariana." She blew on the steaming soup, the cold air in the room making it appear to be far hotter than it truly was.

Jarod reached about her to turn the burner off. "And Piotr. You know we almost met once before. I was on one of the investigation teams after she... you died." He followed her back to the sitting area, this time they both sat on the couch, she mentally dragged over an end table for them to set their bowls on. "You did one hell of a job, no one suspected you were anyone else."

She gave him a grim smile. "As it should be." They ate for several minutes in silence. She could feel he wanted more, but she wanted to take a moment to phrase her words with care. "Darien intellectually understands that part of the job means using any means necessary to get the info or turn your asset, hell, he's done it himself a time or two, he just..."

"He doesn't feel worthy of you. Thinks you're going to leave him one day," Jarod summed up, not even hesitating for an instant.

She failed to contain her reaction, slight as it was. "That's it exactly. And no matter what I say, no matter how many times I come back to him, he still expects me to walk away." She shrugged. "One day he'll understand." She used her thumb to twist the ring about, the eyes of the snake coiled there flashing in the firelight.

"That from him?" Jarod gestured at her hand.

"Yeah. The closest I could come to what he wanted." She still wished she'd been able to tell him yes, but in all good conscience she couldn't... wouldn't.

"Marriage? He doesn't seem the type."

Alyx snorted. "I thought the same." She scraped the bottom of the bowl, the food not quite what she needed, but better then nothing. She set the empty bowl down, and rubbed her forehead, the headache mild but there. "How bad is the weather?"

"Bad enough. Your promise of getting out of here tomorrow might not be possible," he told her.

"I know, but we can't stay here. If Goodrowe was spooked by our visit he might just kill the family on principle." She shifted curling her legs up and leaning back into the surprisingly comfortable cushions.

"Possible, but not likely."

She yawned. "But not a risk I am willing to take. Once the storm lets up we'll make our way back down the mountain."

"Not arguing," Jarod assured her. "Just don't want to risk our lives to save theirs."

"Ah, the ol' no good to them dead ploy. That one still works on me, you'll be happy to know." She smiled at him, a sleepy smile even she would admit.

"You need to rest."

"So do you," she grumbled, her eyes wanting to drift shut, now that she was fed and reasonably warm.

"And I will, later. It's early yet, you just overdid it to get us here." He got up, grabbing the bowls. "Take a nap, I still have plenty of questions I want answered."

She allowed her body to slide down, using the cushioned arm as a pillow and cocooning herself in the blanket. "I have my share as well," she countered, looking up to meet his gaze, his quiet controlled mind a soft purr in the back of hers, it was oddly comforting, like being with family. It made no sense to her, but she didn't have the energy to delve deeper into it. "Why do I know you?"

He twitched. "I don't know, but we do, don't we?"

She nodded. "After I get some sleep." She allowed her eyes to drift shut, not wanting to consider the ramifications of that knowledge. There would be plenty of time to figure it out, especially if they were going to be snowed in all night. She pushed Jarod into the background, instead focusing on Darien, his warm, caring presence just what she needed to finally allow her mind to relax that final step and drift off into healing slumber.

…

The Centre

Blue Cove, Delaware

…

"What do you mean they're together?" Mr. Lyle snarled, rising up from behind his desk.

"We intercepted an email." The man handed over a grainy printout of the picture Jarod had sent to Sydney. "We've gotten confirmation from one of her watchers that she is indeed in Montana and Jarod has been seen as well.

"They were never supposed to meet," Lyle shouted at the man who flinched back from him. "The genetic markers in them will guarantee they know who they are to each other."

"Perhaps not. With what has been done to her, the marker may no longer be functional," he suggested backing away slightly from Lyle.

"Possible," Lyle agreed, calming down slightly. "But she has exceeded all our expectations from the start and the likelihood the marker has failed is slim." He crumpled up the picture. "Is there any chance we can move on her now?"

"No. The people on the ground are not equipped to handle her and weather has moved in that will prevent anyone else from getting to her for several days at least."

"And by then it may be too late," Lyle grumbled, not thrilled. "Has the Tower been made aware of the situation yet?"

He shook his head. "You are primary on this, you get to decide."

Lyle frowned, this was not exactly the kind of news he wanted to give those above him without definitive answers. "Monitor the situation... I understand it may be difficult with the weather issues, have them do the best they can and report in as soon as they know anything. Understood?"

He nodded. "Understood." He turned and left the room, leaving Lyle to glare at the far wall, tapping his desktop with a single finger. Perhaps he should consult with Miss Parker, she might have some insight into what Jarod might be doing this time.

No, that would be that last thing he would do, but watch her and use the information he gathered? That he would do.

…

"It was thus rather the exacting nature of my aspirations than any particular degradation in my fault, that made me what I was, and with even a deeper trench than in the majority of men, severed in me those provinces of good and ill which divide and compound man's dual nature."

Now, I've never claimed to be good, per se. For a thief I was generally pretty honest, but I never really considered myself evil. That lovely bad boy stigma so many aspire to was my way of life. Then I ended up at the Agency, and the whole good and evil thing took on a whole new meaning for me.

I got the pleasure of learning what few men do about themselves: how evil they can truly be.

…

Darien sighed in irritation and glared at his phone.

"Still no luck?"

He shook his head. "Something must be down. Cell tower maybe." He paced about the conference room. They had made their way through the viscous weather to the main lobby building when the power to their cabin had gone out, just like the hotel staff had warned them it might. They hadn't yet turned on the generators, though based on the news reports would probably need to before the night was out.

"She said they were safe, right?" Hobbes sipped at the coffee, which was flowing freely for all the guests who had been displaced by the surprise power outage.

Darien nodded. Whoever the local forecasters were they sucked, big time. A few inches of snow had turned into an ice storm followed by blinding, wind driven snow. And while they insisted it would blow over by dawn, Darien seriously doubted it given their accuracy so far. "Yeah," He rubbed the back of his head, "they found some summer vacation cabin to hole up in."

"So as long as a tree don't fall on them they'll be fine."

"Gee, Hobbes, thanks for that. Like I ain't worrying enough already." He paced irritably around the conference table, eyes roving over all the information certain they had missed something of importance.

Hobbes snorted. "You think she can't take care of herself?"

"Not her I'm worried about," Darien muttered.

"Fawkes?" Hobbes questioned. "You know something I don't?"

Darien shook his head. "Not a thing. Then again when do I?" he groused. The room was too damn small, he needed to get out, get away, but had nowhere to go. Oh, he could go pace about the lobby, or the restaurant/bar combo, but there were far too many people there. No, he wanted to be alone, with lots and lots of alcohol.

"Fawkes, you okay?" Hobbes set his cup down, the concern on his face obvious to even a blind man, and Darien was far from blind.

He wished Alyx were here, hell, he wished they were back home in his apartment very much alone. Instead, they were in the middle the Montana mountain wilderness in the middle of an early winter snowstorm that was looking to shut down the sad excuse of a town. The hotel manager assured them this was nothing the local authorities couldn't handle, but that didn't give him much confidence. He'd gone through a storm or two growing up in Cold Springs, but he hadn't had to deal with anything like it... at least not since that one mission when all four of them had been forced to face down a hotel full terrorists and managed to walk away mostly unharmed, in years. "Headache," he admitted.

"Headache headache or evil cousin id looking to pay us a visit?"

Darien glanced down at his wrist, making note of the single red scale that could still be seen. It didn't make any sense, but the new inhibitor clearly worked even better than Claire had hoped. He showed Bobby. "According to my friend here, it's just a headache. Maybe the weather." He shrugged.

"Maybe you're worried about the kid being with Agent Miner," Hobbes suggested coolly, trying to make it sound as if it were of no importance whatsoever.

Darien heard growling and it took a moment for him to realize it was coming from his own throat.

"Fawkes," Hobbes warned.

"I'm fine."

"And I want you to stay that way. You've been moody all day long, and not your usual the kid's been gone too long moody," Hobbes told him in no uncertain terms. "The inhibitor is new, Keep said to watch for unusual symptoms, maybe this is one of 'em?"

"Like I should know?" Darien snapped, thoroughly over this discussion. "What's our move going to be once the weather clears?" He really hoped Hobbes would take this out else he might be forced to punch him in the face and that... that would not go over well.

Hobbes frowned, but allowed the change of subject to take place. "Good frickin' question. Fair bet he's going to want those guns moved ASAP, so once we can we'll head back to the warehouse and stake it out, hope we can figure out their game plan before they move."

"And Alyx and... Miner?" Darien had no idea why his voice caught on the man's name. Guy seemed to be on the up and up and this situation certainly needed dealing with, but... but he was alone with Alyx. Far too convenient that for Darien's taste. God alone knew the man's real motives, he could have paired with Darien just as easily as Alyx, yet he chose the pretty girl. Big shocker there. Was there anyone who wouldn't go after her, try and tear her away from him? When would they ever get their time?

"When the phones are back up we get back in contact and figure out a game plan. We hope they located the family and coordinate with them. Rescue the family, stop the sale."

Two-man teams it is," Darien grumbled, wanting Alyx all for himself.

"Yeah. And her with him makes the most sense. She's better at covering her tricks than you," Hobbes pointed out, making complete sense even as Darien hated every word his partner said.

He balled his hands into fists, stalking away from his friend and his logic. "I know it makes sense, I know she's better than me, you don't have to keep reminding me every chance you get."

"Whoa there, that ain't what I meant. Don't forget he had no idea she'd be along for the ride." Hobbes stood his ground even as Darien moved towards him, anger making him shake in reaction.

"And why is she here? She made sure to be here, what game is she playing now?"

Bobby stood there for a long moment, confusion, and concern chasing themselves across his face. "What the hell is going on with you, Fawkes?"

Bobby's tone was as effective as a slap across the face, the unreasoning anger draining away in an instant. His head throbbed dully. Maybe he had elevation sickness. Not like he spent much time up mountainsides in San Diego even with all the hills there were in the city. "Crap," he muttered, knuckling his eye. "I think I need some sleep."

"Yeah, that might be a good idea. Let's steal some couches from the lobby and crash in here. We need to be at the top of our game when the weather decides to cooperate." Hobbes headed for the door, intending to do exactly that, with a sigh Darien followed along. Maybe he could talk Hobbes into a drink or two so he might actually be able to sleep.

…

Jarod glared disconsolately at the remaining battery life for his laptop. He'd been trying to access his email for an hour now, but the signal had been intermittent at best. He knew he had an email from Sydney, but had not yet been able to get to it, and now... now his battery was claiming to be nearly dead, and his charger was back at the hotel, being completely useless at the moment. He really wanted to chat with his friend, but with the lack of power... it wasn't likely to be happening any time in the near future.

Over on the couch Alyx sat up, arms stretched above her head, her hair a riot of curls. She got to her feet, muttering under breath about the cold floor, before walking back towards the rear of the cabin, probably heading for the bathroom back there. She returned a few minutes later, the blanket still wrapped about her, as it was only truly warm right in front of the fireplace, which he'd kept going while she napped. She'd been out for a couple hours, the storm not having eased up, as of yet, so they would not be going anyway for quite a while. She went to her clothes, running her hands over them, and frowning.

"Still wet?"

"Much to my dismay," she said with a nod. She shifted some of them about, in an effort to hasten the drying process. "I just don't feel like my usual stylish self in my current outfit." She gave him a smile, then checked her weapon, which sat on the tiny dining table, assuring herself that it was loaded and still functioned. Jarod certainly didn't expect to be attacked here; the weather pretty much insured that.

"Why do you carry the gun? I get the impression that you don't exactly need it."

She gave him a brilliant smile. "Gotten curious have we?"

"That would be an accurate summation."

"And your friends haven't gotten you the intel you wanted? That is why you wanted my real name, right?" She leaned back against the table, watching him with wary eyes.

Jarod sighed and waved at his laptop. "I have no way of knowing. Can't get a consistent signal out and my battery is just about dead."

She cocked her head to the side, then moved to stand beside him. "I might be able to help with that." She reached out and set a single finger on the machine, the screen blinked, but the battery now claimed to be at one hundred percent capacity.

"Amazing," he said in hushed tones, truly impressed. "You say you're not a telekinetic, yet I watched to throw that man without touching him physically, you spoke to me in my mind, which suggests telepathy, and I am quite certain you turned both of us invisible to get away from Goodrowe's men." He leaned back in the chair to look up at her, once again stunned at the connection he felt with her. "What are you?"

She patted him on the shoulder. "I've been asking myself that very question for a few years now." She stepped away to grab and drag over one of the few chairs free of drying clothes. She sat down next to him, pulling up both feet to sit cross-legged. "I have been granted abilities far beyond those of mortal men," she intoned, then laughed at her own words.

"You weren't born with these abilities."

She shook her head. "No. I was genetically... enhanced, starting just a few days after my birth."

"Retroviral splicing?" he guessed. It would be a challenge, but could work.

"Not exactly, though that would probably work. Viral, yes, but a lot more literally."

Jarod thought about that comment for several minutes, putting all his learned knowledge to work on the problem. "Damn, that's... that is bold." He looked her right in the eyes... her silver eyes. "And you survived it."

"That's debatable," she groused. At his sharp look, she added. "Five of those tested survived, I'm the only one whose abilities were fully activated."

"How many were tested?" He didn't really want to know the answer, but suspected he needed it to understand her.

"Two hundred."

That meant most had died. "Did any of the other show any abilities?"

She nodded. "All did, but most of them were too minor for any continuing interest. Only my brother Michael and I had any significant abilities."

Jarod found that very interesting indeed. Why just these two? "Does your brother turn invisible too?" She felt uncomfortable, so he kept his tone light in order to keep her at ease and willing to talk.

"No. He has chosen to not have Phase II done."

"Phase II?" Before she had a chance to speak, he raised a hand to forestall her. "This might be simpler if you told me what you know instead of me asking dozens of questions."

"I can make it even simpler, if you are willing." She held out her hand and after a moment of confusion he grasped it, not certain what to expect.

What he got was information, lots and lots of information dumped into his mind. Everything she knew about the QSX project and how she had come to be gifted of unique abilities. He had no idea how long the transfer took, but he knew several minutes had passed while he poured through it, doing his best to understand every bit of it. His mind, his ability to absorb and use any knowledge he gained allowed him to do that very thing. When he opened eyes he hadn't realized he had closed, to look right at her she sat there with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Headache?" she asked.

"No," he told her, his newfound knowledge telling him that most people did get headaches in reaction to this type of information transfer, which, while remarkably efficient was not normal by any stretch of the imagination. Add to that the fact that his brain was as far beyond normal as hers, and it became less surprising that he did not have the same distressing side-effects of more ordinary people. "You've had an interesting couple of years, haven't you?"

She snickered. "That is one way to describe it. You have had a much more... challenging life." She rubbed the side of her head, huddled about herself, and said softly, "You are not responsible for what others have done."

He didn't even bother to question how she knew that. If she could send information, she should be able to receive it, and he now suspected that is exactly what happened on the porch of their cabin just last night. "Can you control that ability?"

"Usually." She shrugged. "Sometimes it gets away from me."

"Or simply makes certain you have the information you need even if you are unaware of it." Damn, she was incredible at controlling her reactions. Not even a blink at his comment. "How much did you learn about me?"

She laughed, though there was more than a touch of bitterness to it. "How much didn't I learn would be a more accurate question." She sighed, closing her eyes for a long moment. "Lucky for you most of it is a muddled blur that will take time to examine in any detail. I would like to know what The Centre is and what makes you a Pretender?"

Jarod shook his head, trying not to smile. "I'm pretty certain I'm not the only Pretender in this room."

She looked about, as if searching for the other person he might be talking about. "And why would you think that?"

"Because I know you and I shouldn't. The connection between us, have you ever felt anything like it before?"

He was certain what the answer would be so felt quite surprised when she said, "Yes."

"With whom?"

"Family and... Darien."

"You have a mental connection with Agent Fawkes? No wonder you ended up together. His emotional influence must have been difficult to deal with."

"That's putting it mildly, especially since it happened before I had adequate control over my abilities." She reached out to set her cold fingers against his cheek, a tingling sensation like a static charge all along his skin. "My abilities are energy based, manipulating electricity is very easy for me. I'm sensitive enough to feel air molecules."

"And that allows you to mimic other abilities. Interesting."

"You keep saying that as if it's a good thing." She stood up and paced away, her mood turning downward, which hadn't been his intention, he simply wished to understand. Understand her and maybe understand what they were to each other.

"Michele-"

"Don't call me that," she snapped, spinning about to shoot an anger-filled glare at him. "She is dead."

Jarod got to his feet and went to her, setting his hands on her shoulders. "No, she isn't. She's right here." He could feel her unhappiness, got the distinct impression that the only way she'd been able to handle this change in her life was by separating her old from her new and, while he understood the reasoning behind it, he knew it would be detrimental to her sense of self. He knew that from personal experience.

"Shit," she snarled. "I don't need this. Don't need yet another person living in my head. There's too many in there already."

"Wait, you retain the memories of those you... touch?" he asked. He had played many roles, been many people, but never had any trouble separating Jarod from all those others. Even though he had no idea who he really was.

"Yes." She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out to a slow count of ten. "Sorry, just a bit out of sorts."

"You need more info."

"Gods, that is so the last thing I need. I have so much info stuffed into my head we're lucky my brains haven't oozed out my ears." She managed a wan smile then stepped away, leaving Jarod's hands to fall to his sides.

"Perhaps, answers instead?"

"You have any of those? 'Cause I'm fresh out."

"No, but my... contact might." He gestured at the computer. "Just need a solid signal out."

Her gaze narrowed. "Which I can provide," she muttered. "You had this planned all along," she accused, but without appearing overtly upset about it.

"No, not all along. This," he waved at the room about them, "had never been part of the plan. In fact it's keeping me from my real goal."

"Saving the Hursts." Alyx nodded. "Why should I trust you?"

"Why shouldn't you? You have me in your head, is there anything you feel you can't trust?" Jarod could only hope her answer would favor him, if she so chose she could arrest him and turn him over to The Centre, which would not be a good thing.

"Oh, that is so a loaded question, Jarod."

"Not really, if you didn't trust me you would have told your partners the truth about me and I would probably be under house arrest in my cabin back at the resort."

"You think you're so smart."

Jarod looked at her solemnly. "Yes, I do. Though I doubt I can hold a candle to you."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "You so do not want to get into an argument about who's smarter..."

"Because I'd lose?" Jarod quipped, pleased when she smiled in response. He was more than smart enough to realize that her being angry would be good for neither of them. "Control issues or personality issues?"

She frowned. He didn't like how her emotions seemed to be flip-flopping all over the place.

"Both. Seems those who created me wanted control so much they decided to try programming me." She tapped her temple. "The control failed, the programming remained... then fractured. My psyche is more than a tad scrambled." She shrugged. "Sometimes my hold falters. That can happen when there are too many other people in your head."

He knew about programming, though he'd been lucky that Sydney had not used any of those more overt techniques with his charge. If he had been assigned to Raines... well, he wouldn't be the man he was today. No, he'd be far more likely to have had his mind twisted or be dead. Few of Raines' pet projects had survived. Angelo was one, and only because Sydney had taken over guiding his talents, much to Raines' unhappiness. "Do you remember who you were?"

"Yes, it's just hard to hold onto on occasion," she told him truthfully.

"Maybe... maybe I can help."

She tipped her head to the side, watching him carefully. "Maybe you can. Maybe your friends can as well?"

"Only one way to find out," he stated, looking pointedly back over at the computer.

"You just want me for my abilities," she grumbled, but with a smile. He got the impression that she had gotten used to being used as little more than a tool. Still, she walked over to the chair she'd been sitting in minutes before and settled back into it. "Well, we gonna do this or not?"

Jarod smiled and shook her head, astonished at how fast she could switch tracks. She was more like him than even he had realized. High emotions, moody, and yet shockingly focused. He would not want to be in her way once she had decided to accomplish something. She would steamroll right over him. "Yes, we are." He took his spot in front of the laptop, and fired up the video connection. The wireless connection crapped out almost immediately, not able to find a signal, the storm interfering one way or another. "No signal he informed her."

"Is there a land line?"

"Yes, why?" He had an Ethernet port, but hadn't used it since the wireless companies started piggy-backing internet signals on their phone systems.

"Grab it and plug it in." When he hesitated, she sighed. "Which one of us can manipulate computers and power with her mind? Trust me."

There was little point in arguing with that statement so he did as she asked, though it did require a slight rearrangement of the room, as the landline didn't reach where the computer had been set up.

Once settled, she rested a hand on the laptop and nodded for him to make the call. This time the connection went through without an issue and mere moments later Sydney's countenance appeared on the screen.

"Jarod, I wasn't expecting to hear from you given the weather where you currently are," Sydney commented, both sounding concerned and giving him the knowledge that he, at the very least, knew roughly where Jarod was working this time.

He turned to Alyx. "They probably traced my phone call and got a rough location."

"Really," Alyx snarked, "I never would have guessed."

She didn't come across as upset, no she was most certainly amused. Jarod was hard pressed to not chuckle at her dry amusement. "Sydney, have you got any information for me?"

"Jarod, your friend is not what she seems." That statement was made by Miss Parker as she stepped in behind Sydney.

Jarod glanced over at Alyx, who snickered. "I am very much aware of that fact," he stated drolly. The screen split then, a second video connection with Broots coming online.

"Jarod, good to see you," Broots, master of prevarication began. "The Centre has... an interest in her."

"Broots, has found some interesting information on your friend," Sydney offered, adding to the prevarication party happening right now.

"Perhaps you'd like to share this information," Alyx requested, sounding polite, but Jarod could hear the hard edge to her words, could feel the tension beginning to build within her.

"The project her parents were targeted for is named Oracle," Sydney told them, perhaps sensing that Alyx was nowhere near as patient as Jarod.

"Targeted," she echoed. "Lovely choice of words."

"Can't argue with that," Miss Parker commented, clearly agreeing with Alyx. "NuGenesis was involved. Did your parents have any reason to consult a fertility clinic?"

NuGenesis. That was anything but good. They had been the company twice put in charge of seeking out and finding potential Pretenders. If they had been involved, then what he'd surmised about Alyx might very well be true.

"Not that I'm aware of, though if it involves my conception I wasn't exactly around to observe the goings on," Alyx stated with a straight face.

Broots snorted in amusement. "According to the records I accessed they did. Do... do you want me to send you the information we have."

"Duh," Alyx snarked. "Give us the overview now, I can only hold this connection open for so long."

Jarod watched the reactions on the three faces across the country from them, and had to admit the shocked expressions impressed him.

"It worked? The QSX project worked?" Sydney asked in pure disbelief.

Jarod glanced at Alyx who shrugged, allowing him to decide how much to tell. "Worked is a poor description. While the results of the enhancements were random, it did indeed work. She is quite skilled."

Miss Parker waved a hand. "Do not give us the details. The less we know the better..." She trailed off, her look speaking volumes to Jarod.

"And Oracle?" he prompted.

"Exactly what it sounds like. They wanted to create a Pretender with predictive abilities. Play the role, forsee the outcome," Broots explained quickly.

"No, they wanted a prescient. Someone who could predict every potential outcome," Jarod corrected, glancing over at Alyx.

"And can she do that?" Miss Parker's focus switched from Jarod to Alyx. "Can you do that?"

Alyx narrowed her eyes. "And if I say yes? Would you start hunting me as well?"

"No. We have no interest in you other than your... relationship with Jarod." Sydney's voice had taken on that over-calm tone that meant nothing other than bad news.

"So who is looking for her?"

"Mr. Lyle," Broots answered. "It was Raines' project back in the day. She and her brother were the only recorded survivors, however..."

"Whoever ran the QSX project got to them first," Jarod finished. "How smart are you?" he asked of Alyx.

She frowned slightly. "Very. College at sixteen."

"But only because you chose not to advance sooner," Sydney posited, and Alyx's twitch of reaction proved it to be correct.

"Alyx?" Jarod questioned.

She shrugged. "I wanted to be... normal," she admitted. "I found it surprisingly easy to... pretend to be less than I was."

"As I suspected. Jarod we have reason to believe that Raines used a primitive version of the techniques perfected in the Gemini project to create her and her twin," Sydney explained, the words hitting home and making Jarod's heart pound painfully hard in his chest.

"So, she is..."

"She's your sister," Miss Parker stated in her typical blunt way.

"No," Jarod argued. "She's my clone... isn't she?"

"Y... y... yes," Broots stuttered out. "Modified using eugenics, according to the data. A new generation of Pretenders who could see the future." Broots glanced away, and Sydney nodded. "They coded genetic markers into their DNA, markers that you would recognize."

Jarod went completely still at that comment. It explained everything. Imagine two Pretenders working in tandem, one of whom could predict the future... The Centre would be unstoppable and even more dangerous than they already were. He would not allow that to happen. Would not allow Alyx to be sucked into that world. Would not see her gifts abused and used for all the wrong reasons. Having gone to the Agency might be the one thing that could protect her.

"I take it the genetic marker is functional?" Sydney asked even though it was clear he knew the answer.

"Fully," Alyx answered. "And that might be to The Centre's detriment." She turned to Jarod. "We need to wrap this up. Even I have limits and I'm reaching them."

Jarod understood that those limits were not related to her abilities, but her patience. That total strangers knew more about her and who... what she was than she did herself would be driving her to the edge. That she was not the person she had been just ten minutes ago. Her entire world view had been knocked off its already less than stable axis and her only visible reaction was to want a few minutes to assimilate and process. "Are they coming after Alyx?"

Sydney glanced up at Miss Parker who shook her head. "Not that we know of."

"We can try to warn you if... when..." Broots stuttered to a halt. "I wouldn't stay where you are any longer than necessary, they..."

Miss Parker growled softly. "Unless you have some magic power that scrambles your video signal, Lyle will learn about this... about you and he might have no choice but to come after you."

Alyx smiled. "He's welcome to try."

"Jarod, I think perhaps you should tell her about The Centre... and what they are really capable of. She needs to know." Sydney sounded truly concerned, but Jarod agreed, she needed to know, to understand exactly how dangerous The Centre and their sponsors, the Triumvirate were. They had all night, best he make good use of the time.

"Thank you, Sydney. I will." On those words, he closed the connection and turned to Alyx who immediately got up and walked to the kitchen, her bare feet silent on the hard wood floors, the blanket she'd been wrapped in, left behind even though the temperature in the cabin remained chilly at best. He heard a door open and moved to follow her.

He found her standing outside, the rear door left wide open to allow snow to blow inside. He joined her, ignoring the wind and snowflakes falling about them more than heavily enough to settle and begin to build upon them even after just a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," he told her, meaning it. This had not been his intention, he had not planned on upending her corner of the universe with his presence.

"Why? It's not like you did this to me." She hadn't turned about to face him, had remained staring stoically out into the darkness and falling snow. "Hell, it's not like you knew I would be here."

"Why are you here? Your partners mentioned that you finished up another job early to join them?" He'd wondered that since first meeting her.

"Does it matter?"

"I have the feeling it does."

She sighed, one hand coming up to rub her forehead. "I had a recurring dream about Darien, one that did not end well for him."

"So you are prescient."

"You had any doubt?" She shook her head, the light dusting of snow that had accumulated falling off to join the pile that hid her bare feet. "It's not like I have control over it. Sometimes it's dreams, sometimes when I touch someone I see what might happen. Sometimes I can even prevent it." She turned about to look up at him. "But not always."

"And this time?"

"Don't know yet, we haven't reached the cusp, but in my dream I was never here, so it is possible just my presence will have changed that future."

Jarod wanted to erase that dismay from her voice, but had no idea how to go about it. "Alyx-"

"You know they've always wondered how my precognitive ability tied into all the rest." She tipped her head down, shaking it. "Now we know." She laughed bitterly. "Ah, Kevin you have seriously fucked up your brother."

Jarod probably looked as confused as he felt. "Should I ask?"

"Might as well," she stated, "I have the feeling you'll be more than willing to keep it to yourself."

"Of course."

"I'm not the only one who can turn invisible. Darien can as well, though the method is different. His brother created an artificial gland that secretes a substance called Quicksilver, which bends light..."

"Making the person invisible. That's what you did, but... but it's not an artificial gland for you."

"Nope, just genetics... well, modified genetics that is."

Jarod tried to figure out how an artificial gland tied back to her. It didn't take long for him to put the pieces together. "This Kevin used a sample of your Quicksilver to create the gland," he concluded.

"Ding, ding, ding. You win the kewpie doll."

"Does he also have precognitive dreams?"

Alyx nodded. "Oh what a tangled web," she muttered. "And it's all my fault."

Jarod stepped forward, setting a hand against her cheek. "No, it's mine."

She laughed, though it edged over into the range of hysterical. "Ah, yes, let's not forget that I now have no clue who I really am, that my family is and never was mine and-"

"No, they're still you're family, always will be." He watched her carefully. "You... we just have some new members is all."

She stepped away from him. "You had to go put a positive spin on this. You don't find this... disturbing at all?"

"Of course I do, but there is nothing I can do to change it... other than warn you about exactly how deep you're getting."

She nodded, not having the energy to argue right now.

"But how about we do it inside... before I have to remove your toes due to frostbite."

She smiled at him. "Frostbite is not an issue," she said as she turned and walked back inside. He glanced down and noticed her legs ended above her ankles. "Quicksilver is a thermal insulator."

Jarod laughed and followed her. They had a lot to talk about and all night to do so.