The Return of Ethan (part 3)

Disclaimer: none of the characters are mine, but belong to Impossible Pictures™.

South-East Asia, 500,000 yrs ago

Danny Quinn was delirious from pain and blood loss: his brother really knew what he was doing, whenever he was killing something or someone. The first shot had hurt, but it was not lethal, not at all... and compared to the second one, aimed to kill in a relatively long, slow, and very painful manner, it was nothing at all.

Danny was rapidly losing consciousness and his sanity too, for that matter. He sought his father, Albert Quinn; he sought his mother, Martha... no such luck. Whom he did find (between a small ape-like humanoid and a giant man-sized bat), was Helen Cutter, looking down at him with her trademark inscrutable look, her gaze as warm and humane as the wind.

"Helen... sorry... should've buried you properly..." Danny wheezed and all light faded in his eyes; he never felt the pliers that pulled out the revolver bullet from his wound, or the hands that prevented him from sprawling completely on the ground.

London, Present Time (The ARC building)

James Lester was feeling morose and the beginnings of something suspiciously like a middle-age crisis spring up. At times like these he really felt regretful that he remained working in the ARC and did not just up and leave...

Well no, he could not have left, not for a long while, not if he wanted to remain working in the ministry and not just quit. Admittedly, he had enough money to live the rest of his life comfortably enough...but that just was not him, not yet.

When Burton came along, with all of his power and influence, James could have left and be easily transferred to another branch, to let Philip have the free rein of the ARC, but he did not. That was just wrong...and Lester had to admit that he was enjoying working in the ARC a bit too much to just up and submit to the minister's pressure... and now he was back where he had started, at square one. Either continue working the ARC, or just quit.

"Decisions, decisions," Lester muttered crossly, when the phone on his desk rang. "Who is it?" he asked, sounding relatively cross.

It was the hospital. They had a man in a very poor shape – shot several times, one shot apparently almost fatal.

And apparently, he was one of Lester's employees.

"Jess," Lester spoke to the ARC's team organizer, "contact Anderson and the others. Tell them, that as soon as they are done with the time anomaly, to come and meet me at the hospital-"

"Sir, they're not responding – something is wrong," Jess turned to face Lester, clearly worried.

"I see," Lester frowned. In reality, he did not see anything, but the odds of something going wrong were more against the ARC than in its favor. "Then get me an armored escort to the hospital with me, and keep an eye and ear for the field team. If this state of affairs continues, send another armed force to help them, or pick them up, or something else – use your discretion!"

"Yes sir!" Jess replied, sounding completely serious for once. "I'm on it!"

Meanwhile

"Becker, you're okay? Becker!"

"Abby, I'm alive," Becker growled. "How about you? And the others?"

"I'm fine," Abby muttered, "because you got the worst of the blast. How are you feeling?"

"Poorly," Becker admitted. "Hurt all over. Do not really want to move. How about the others?"

"Um, you'll have to move – you're lying on top of me, and I really don't want to move you if you're hurt-"

"Oh." Becker finally looked up from whatever – or rather, whomever – he was lying on top of. "I didn't realize where I was."

"And we'll laugh, or cry, or whatever about that later," Abby said matter-of-factly. "Right now, can you move?"

"Yes," Becker hissed, as one of his legs and his lower back pulsed with pain. "Jess?" he spoke into his comm.-link as Abby got on her feet and looked around, while Becker himself felt only strong enough to sit on the pavement, now largely dismantled.

"Becker?" Even on the comm.-link Jess sounded very worried. "Are you all right?"

"No," Becker replied curtly. "Ethan's back; he rigged this entire street with explosives; I'm alive, Abby's okay, but the others – we have no contact with them yet."

There was a pause, very uncharacteristic of the normally loquacious Jess, so even Becker, normally rather thick-skinned, felt compelled to ask:

"You okay?"

"...Yes," the team operator replied. "Mr. Lester told me to send you armed back-up-"

"And contact the police. Ethan, apparently, got rid of Quinn, and is packing explosives, possibly firearms, and I do not know what else," Becker added. "Also, tell Mr. Lester-"

"He's not at the Centre," Jess said, miserably. "He's been called to a hospital for some reason – I didn't quite follow it."

"Fine. Contact Lester and get him up to date – somehow," Becker exhaled. "Please."

"Got it," Jess replied, sounding precise for once and turned to contacting Lester at her end.

"Well?" Becker switched his attention to Abby. "Anything? Anyone?"

"No," Abby gulped, her face paler than her hair for once. "Becker, what do we do?"

But regrettably, Becker had nothing to tell her.

End Part 3