Grantsburg, Wisconsin (2018)
Ben ignored the shudder running along his right leg, fingers slipping to the small pill bottle containing his tryptophan before moving his hand back to his thigh. Once they reached this community of Garth's, he'd down the pills privately. For now, the spasms and slight pain were nothing he couldn't handle. And with his stash running low, Ben needed to conserve what remained of his pills and restock when the opportunity presented itself.
This thought made him look over to his twin, who, as of yet, displayed no issues with the spasms, a symptom that affected all transgenics. Yet not once had Alec shown any sign of that affliction, which made him deliberate if Manticore had resolved the genetic defect.
Though he was curious, Ben didn't want to interrupt his twin's brooding, which had continued since they left Blowing Rock. The only time the silence had broken was when he had presented Rachel's locket to Alec at a stopover on their way northward. Ben hoped it might help, or at least draw Alec from his introspection.
However, when Alec took up the trinket, his eyes went glassy as he fingered it reverently before he looked at him, the pain and heartache evident in those familiar hazel green eyes. Alec thanked him before walking off, disappearing into the twilight, and although Ben wanted to follow his twin, he knew it was best to leave him alone. Garth met him not long after and seemed to pick up on the situation before suggesting they eat and rest, giving Alec some time to himself. But Alec didn't return that night, and Ben began to fear his twin had left him behind. His fears were waylaid when Alec showed up the following day, seemingly indifferent to his brother's worries, before asking Garth how much longer till they reached this town of his.
Once they were on the road, Alec flipped on the radio, which played nothing, since most radio stations were no longer operational. He then started complaining about the lack of music before grumbling that they needed to stop somewhere and get some proper music for the road. Afterward, he eased his seat back and pretended to sleep.
Still, the complaints were an improvement over the earlier silence, and if Alec wanted music for later, then perhaps there was hope for them traveling together beyond this trip.
The drive was uneventful. They passed fields, small towns, and people, while avoiding zones operated by the road gangs. Alec continued to maintain his silence. Only the twist of his hand tightening around the locket indicated he was awake. Ben drove, ignoring his growing spasms and fatigue resulting from his lack of sleep.
The only interruption along their silent journey northward was when Garth called them over the walkie-talkie. He'd given it to them to keep in touch as they traveled. Garth repeated the basics and stated that outside of his wife, Bess, who Garth couldn't lie to, no one else knew anything about their unique circumstances. The Lycan said he'd leave it for them to elaborate on their differences if they wished, but clarified everyone in their community would know they weren't entirely human. The cat smell alone would notify them of that much. Garth even laughed, stating it wasn't a friendly pet smell, but more like the one you get from those cougars that lived down south.
Finally, as the sun began to set and they passed another town, Garth called over the walkie-talkie, saying they were nearly at the ranch where his family lived. A few minutes passed before a large, reasonably well-maintained ranch came into view. The faint smell of wolf and animal blood seeped through the car's ventilation. His instincts that had kept him alive and off Lydecker's radar for so long demanded that he keep driving instead of following Garth into the driveway, where a woman and little girl waited. Those same instincts had demanded he kill Garth upon their initial meeting, and Ben reasoned with himself that ignoring them had gotten them this far.
So like before, Ben pushed down his nerves, ignored the slight spasm along his leg, and followed behind Garth, who jumped out of the vehicle to hug the girl and woman. Alec straightened in his seat, gaze speculative as he looked around the ranch, both of them noting the other werewolves drifting outside. Their gazes showed affection for Garth and his family, but their distrust was evident when they turned in their direction as he parked the Bronco.
That, along with their inhuman features, made Ben uneasy. "Well, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," Alec muttered, his face displaying a mixture of speculation and carefully crafted indifference as he eyed the non-humans watching them.
Ben didn't respond, licking his lips as his eyes darted about with trepidation at the unfamiliar sights before him. Finally, he let out a measured breath, "That's one way to describe it," he swallowed and released the wheel of the Bronco. Ben firmly ignored the DNA inside him that wanted to screech at the sight of the creatures outside the car.
Still, he'd left more than enough room to pull out, and he glanced over to Alec when he heard the click of a gun. Phil had given them a few weapons to handle any trouble along the road, telling them to take care of themselves, and Ben didn't object as Alec slipped the gun into the back of his waistband. Alec looked over at him with that charming fake smile plastered across his features. "Well, let's go play nice with the wolves. And remember, Ben: charm."
FBI Headquarters, Washington DC (2018)
Henriksen looked at the report his boss had handed over with a shrug before sending him on his way, pointedly ignoring his objections. Again he questioned his reasons for remaining with the FBI when he knew what would be released in the next sixteen months.
Lucifer himself would walk the Earth.
A sobering thought and one he tended to drink himself into oblivion to forget. Unfortunately, it did little to erase the details of that day. When Sam Winchester, whom he originally pegged as a possible schizoid or psychopath, sacrificed himself to save humanity. It struck home for Henriksen, despite the shit he'd seen, both human and non-human. There was a reason he kept fighting. That if a damned kid - and yes, Sam Winchester was only 26 years old - could throw himself at the Devil to give them more time to kill the bastard, then he could continue to play the part of disgruntled paranoid overworked FBI agent. Intern giving other hunters a leg up when they needed a hand with the Bureau—and damned if they didn't.
Some expected that after Lucifer was sealed away, shit would die down. If anything, it got worse. The Pulse, for one, did a number on the country and its economy. Although it wasn't admitted outright, everyone knew that America was no longer the Leader of the Free World. Hell, over the last eight years, America had nearly dropped into third-world status.
Most major cities were a mess. There were rampant food shortages, the weather was still going crazy, and road gangs openly operated across America's byways and most major cities. Those were just a few of the human problems. The non-human ones had also gotten worse over the last few years. Demon possessions had increased, the dead were rising from their graves, and monster attacks still happened, if less frequently. And if that wasn't bad enough, over the last couple of years, a war in Europe had broken out, slowly and inescapably spreading east.
All this forced Henriksen to contemplate the ugly truth that by the time Lucifer broke free, he wouldn't have to worry about much. Humanity would have already done most of the work for him.
Some of this shit started with the demons, but not all of it. That was the crux of his agitation with everything; there was just too much damned corruption running rampant, tearing down what little good the world had to offer. He may not be a bleeding heart or some peace-love beatnik. But that didn't mean he didn't hate knowing that demons had infiltrated most offices of the government and other foreign powers to implement their agenda. And they were succeeding because it didn't take much to spread corruption - humans had proven that easily enough themselves.
Now this shit.
Project Manticore had snagged his attention years ago, as the amount of red tape surrounding access to information about it had raised more than a few flags. The organization had the protection of influential individuals within the US government, leaving him unable to act against Manticore. Hendrickson didn't like that. And now, he would have to work with one of Manticore's directors and help them in their ongoing search for key individuals that went missing roughly nine years ago—making this a damned Waldo case.
Reaching his desk, he threw the file at Jacobs, his partner, who, like himself, had found out about the supernatural by happenstance. Though Jacobs didn't know everything, she knew enough not to raise an eyebrow when something slipped by his desk, or evidence went missing. In fact, before Jacobs, it was a working joke around the office that he'd had more partners than ex-wives. Thankfully Jacobs had a brain, and they worked well together.
He pulled on his jacket and ignored her raised eyebrow. "Come on: conference room two. We have a Colonel Lydecker waiting on us. You can read the Cliff's Notes as we walk." Thankfully Jacobs said nothing, just straightened her jacket and opened the file, scanning it as they walked towards the elevator.
Once they were privately ensconced in the lift, she frowned at the file. "Project Manticore?" she asked as the elevator went down two levels. He grunted but threw her a bone, since Jacobs would be with him on this.
"A government black ops group. A while back, I encountered several questionable and supposed deaths within the government and private sector, and every time these guys were implicated." When the doors opened, they continued, and with no visible observers nearby, he kept talking. "But when I began to look into the case. I was told flatly to ignore it and was put on desk duty for two months straight. I was told in no uncertain terms that my desk job would remain permanent if I didn't drop the case."
A smile flickered upon Jacobs' full lips. "Man, you must have pissed someone off." Then she paused and laughed, and he saw clear amusement dancing in her blue eyes. "But that doesn't surprise me one bit."
He cracked a smile, "Laugh it up, partner."
Jacobs bowed her head with a straight face. "Oh, I intend to." That's why he liked Jacobs. She had a sense of humor with her brains, a rarity for women in the FBI. Most of them thought they had to pull a Clarice Starling act to be treated with respect. Stephanie Jacobs thankfully didn't function under that cliché. She knew she was smart and how to do her job, and she didn't need bust balls to do so.
When they turned the corner and conference room two came into view, both dropped their amusement when they saw the individuals within the room. The casually dressed older gentleman looked to be in his late forties, perhaps early fifties. He was with two adults in military fatigues; a woman with skin so dark it was nearly black, and a man of possible Latino heritage. Both were young, and extremely attractive, and possessing a stiff military bearing. Who were they? Aides? Or something else?
Hendrickson shrugged the questions aside - who could say - and looked down to his partner, who'd straightened her shoulders and thrown on her game face. Catching his eye, they nodded to one another and walked into the conference room to play ball.
Grantsburg, Wisconsin (2018)
Alec reacted as protocol dictated and rolled out the charm. He chose to ignore the animal eyes and obvious fangs belonging to the woman and girl standing in the driveway, much like he'd consistently ignored the pain that gnawed at him when his fingers ghosted across Rachel's locket and he pictured her face. Hell, he was getting pretty good at ignoring every other irregularity he'd encountered thus far - why stop now?
Keeping his smile in place, Alec subtly scanned the area, picking out targets as more werewolves came out of the woodworks. Two - no, four more had joined Garth's family. None of them gave off the Zen master aura that Garth seemed to project all the time. The others watched him and Ben cautiously. The caution switched to open suspicion when the boys exited the car and the Lycans caught their scent.
Alec's gaze paused in his inspection when he noted the slight tremble running along Ben's leg. He and all other X-series no longer suffered from the genetic flaw that caused low levels of serotonin. Only the escapees still retained that handicap, as Manticore had fixed it in the remaining transgenics, well mostly. He'd noted the issue earlier in the car and remained silent, expecting that Ben would correct it before the signs became too obvious, and he hadn't. Now even Garth had noted the slight tremble, and concern showed in his animal eyes as he looked at his twin. Dumbass should have taken the tryptophan pills Ben downed whenever he thought no one was watching.
Over the last few days, the more Alec learned about Ben, the more he realized what a mess his twin was. Sure, he suspected something was off when Ben initially kidnapped him. But it wasn't just Ben's personality taken to an extreme over these last years. No, Alec suspected that isolation had worsened Ben's paranoia and dependency on this Blue Lady of his. Even in Blowing Rock, where the people became friendlier after Phil okayed them, Ben had still remained distant from just about everyone except Phil.
Now, unlike himself, Ben wasn't hiding his suspicion as he eyed the watching werewolves. Instead, he'd hunched up, making himself appear smaller, and since he was still underweight, it wasn't a difficult act to pull off. However, Alec did note his twin softened somewhat when the little girl looked up to them, her gaze curious before she smiled, her odd animal blue eyes twinkling with warmth and trust as she watched them curiously. Ben relaxed as some of the tension melted from his frame, and he returned the smile, nodding a greeting to the kid-wolf.
Fascinating: adults made Ben jumpy but not kids, and the kid-wolf returned Ben's smile with a saucy little wink. Alec snickered since it appeared the kid was a natural charmer. At his chuckle, she seemed to think he was mocking her because she puffed up her pert little nose at him and stuck her tongue out, and Alec was naturally obliged to return the gesture. Ben followed the whole exchange and rolled his eyes while Garth laughed, and the woman - who he assumed was Garth's wife Bess - afforded them a welcoming smile. This seemed to ease the tautness of the other werewolves, who still appeared suspicious but were now relaxing somewhat.
Alec subtly removed his hand from where the Beretta rested within easy reach. When the ranch door opened, an elderly werewolf exited with two toddlers in his arms, what looked to be the remains of food decorating his shirt. Alec fingered Rachel's necklace, letting the motion ease his remaining tension.
Despite their obvious inhumanity, these guys were a family with kids, and, more pointedly, no smells indicated they were maneaters. In fact, with his body count, Alec was pretty sure he'd likely killed more humans than these people. Garth turned to face the newcomers. "I see the boys have already gotten started with their supper. Bess, Jim, my beautiful Gertie, and the twins, Simon and Liam. Let me introduce you to Alec and Ben."
Washington DC (2018)
Lydecker had read Hendrickson's and Jacobs's files before reaching DC. Despite poor psych evals and a general acknowledgment of bullheadedness, bordering on obstinacy - namely in concerns with Victor Hendrickson - both were considered some of the FBI's best field agents, and, more importantly, had never been promoted beyond their current level.
With Hendrickson's successful track record and time in service, Lydecker knew the man should be in upper management. But his general obstinacy and unwillingness to play ball with leadership had kept the man from advancing. Lydecker suspected Hendrickson would rather give the FBI's director the middle finger than kiss his ass.
Though Jacobs was younger, she was talented and brilliant and should have been promoted, but her unwillingness to leave her partner high and dry had contributed to her career stagnating. As a result, both were generally sent out on bullshit and unexplained assignments, which is how they acquired the mock alias 'Mulder and Scully' from their associates. Unfortunately, that integrity would keep them from doing much good beyond what they had already accomplished. Only those willing to embrace immorality rose within the government which was why it was initially decided to keep Project Manticore on a need-to-know basis. Too many within the government were compromised.
Although Lydecker could see neither were happy with the assignment and the lack of information, they'd acted with the professionalism one expected from government officials. So picking these two out was something he'd give Renfro since their experience and overall knowledge regarding criminals and their patterns would be an asset. Admittedly, it was an aspect on which his kids had him beat.
Still, he was pleased his recommendation to bring in a unit had proved to be an overall success, and Lydecker intended to highlight that aspect in his following report to the committee. 513 had already compiled digital images of the escapees, aging each member of unit 4 to their present age from gathered data and a program he'd created and tailored for this exact purpose, which gave them authenticated images of not only 493 and 494 but the other members of the unit.
It made the FBI briefing smoother since he knew people would ask too many questions if he stated they were hunting children. The only hiccup during the meeting was when 493's and 494's faces showed on the screen, and Jacobs dropped her mask. She seemed startled, even upset when she spotted their identical pictures. In contrast, Hendrickson's features showed nothing until he noticed his partner's reaction. Asking if she needed to be excused, Jacobs collected herself, regained her self-control, and requested that they continue the briefing.
Hendrickson didn't show anything overtly, but he seemed tense, while Jacobs showed nothing else beyond her mask of impassivity. However, Lydecker caught it each time her eyes darted to the images of 493 and 494. He wondered if she knew his kids since it was highly conceivable that Jacobs might have run into 493 in the past.
Still, when they returned to command, Lydecker also considered that Jacobs might know 493 and 494's mother or their direct DNA donor. All of the X-5s took characteristics from their mothers and direct DNA donors.
He decided to investigate those files and see if there was a connection between the parties. Their mother, Theresa Rebul, hadn't shown any attachment to the twins and happily took the offered money, even stating she'd be happy to give birth to more children. Lydecker noted that the twins didn't resemble the woman, which was surprising. However, the big surprise came when he opened the file on 493 and 494's DNA donor.
Dean Winchester, born January 24th, 1979, was killed on March 3rd, 1999, after saving a young girl's life from a drunk driver. Although he initially intended to scan the entire file, what caught and left him shocked was the young man's photo, taken when he was 18 years old. Dean Winchester was a replica of 493 and 494. Or, more aptly, they were replicas of Dean Winchester.
That shouldn't be possible.
None of his kids was an exact match for their mothers or DNA donors. Even 452, Max, though close in looks, was not a precise replica of his late wife Becca. Still, she'd been close enough in appearance that sometimes it was difficult to keep his mask in play, and he had to remind himself that Max was not the daughter he and Becca had always wanted.
There were no differences with 493 and 494. No, if he'd stuck those two next to Dean Winchester, it wouldn't be easy to tell who the clones were and who the original was. Only their barcodes and perhaps expressions were different enough to separate Dean Winchester from 493.
Studying the photo carefully, Lydecker noted Dean and 494 both had that same cocky assuredness prevalent in their expressions. Expressions that distinctly said they could get away with a lot of shit, and they knew it. The other tell he noted from Dean's photo was his obvious protectiveness where it concerned his younger brother Sam. The arm he'd slung over his kid brother's shoulder was shielding and caring, a similarity he'd imparted to 494.
Forcing himself to ignore this unexpected aspect, Lydecker needed more information on Dean Winchester. He began scanning the file, noting Dean's mother had been killed in a mysterious fire when the boys were young. Then Lydecker blinked, wondered if he read that last sentence correctly, and realized he wasn't seeing things.
The firefighters had found the woman's corpse stuck to the ceiling of her youngest son's nursery. Jesus, what the hell could cause something like that? Then his thoughts jumped to the creatures his kids witnessed, each had been utterly inhuman. Could one of those things have been behind Mary Winchester's death?
Another odd aspect to add to the pile that would require thorough investigation. But when he flipped the page, Lydecker could see where Dean, 493, and 494 got their looks. Looking at the happy family photo, he could see some similarities they shared with John Winchester, but the bulk of their features came from Mary Winchester. And she'd been a gorgeous woman. Moving onto the next page, he could see after his wife's death that John Winchester went from part ownership of a local garage to becoming something of a wanderer with his two sons. He never stayed in one place for too long, continually moving. Almost like the man was running from something. Again, his mind jumped to those inhuman creatures. Lydecker shelved the idea. Anything was possible, and it would need to be investigated.
However, as he continued reading and flipped to the next page, reading the summary, he now had an explanation for Jacobs' reaction. The little girl Dean Winchester had saved that night nearly nineteen years ago had been one Stephanie Jacobs. Currently 28, lives in Washington DC, employed with the FBI since she was recruited after graduating from Yale University.
Damn. Lydecker realized that this could cause an issue down the line. After all, Lydecker was aware people didn't tend to forget those who'd saved their lives, even though Jacobs may have only been a child at the time. Nothing would diminish the impact of what happened that night, which made her career choice and impressive record obvious. Although Lydecker had no desire to take action against a principled woman who was doing some good, he couldn't risk his kids or the security of Manticore for Stephanie Jacobs.
Leaning back, Lydecker rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling tired since once again he was faced with one of those moral decisions that made him question his principles. It was similar to the one that made him question if he'd pushed his kids too far. They may have been genetically engineered, but the fact remained that they were still children.
Pushing down old concerns that had no bearing on his present circumstance Lydecker came to a decision. Straightening he pressed the call button on his desk, "Donalds, 387, report to my office." A few minutes passed before Donalds, his second-in-command who didn't need coddling, entered his office, shortly followed by 387. He pointed to the chairs across from his desk, and once they were seated, he pulled out Dean Winchester's last photo and the report on Jacobs' connection to the man. He handed one to Donalds and the other to 387. As each studied the pieces of evidence and passed them to the other, Donalds looked surprised, while 387's only reaction was a slight frown that disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
"I'll send the full dossier to you both. I want the file fully absorbed, and I want 24/7 surveillance put on Stephanie Jacobs and her partner Victor Hendrickson." Both looked up at his words as the photo and paper were set down. "For now, surveillance is all that's required. But 387, I know 513 is one of the best tech experts amongst the X-series." He tapped the file. "I want all information on Dean Winchester and his family uncovered." 387 nodded, "I need to know if we run the risk of running into someone related to him."
At the cough, he looked over to Donalds and nodded for him to speak up. "Sir, what about Dean Winchester himself, is he…?"
Lydecker shook his head. "The man died when he rescued Jacobs. The impact killed him." He eyed the one photo taken of Dean Winchester that night and didn't let it show, but seeing Sam Winchester screaming as his elder brother was put into a body bag was a sad sight. Taking the photo out, he pushed it forward into their sight. Pity showed in Donald's eyes. After all, the man had a child near Sam Winchester's age when the photo was taken. 387 looked uncomfortable, hands flexing for a few seconds before he reapplied his neutral mask and stilled.
When their attention refocused on him, Lydecker nodded to the file and the information sitting before them. "Remember it's important that unit 4 and 494 are recaptured and returned to Manticore. We need to see that the proper steps are taken to guarantee that outcome, and I will have no interruption from outside sources. Am I clear?" Both nodded in full understanding. All information on Dean Winchester and his family would be exposed, and if Jacobs or Hendrickson became problematic, surveillance would be canceled, and both would be terminated. "Dismissed."
Seth looked at his watch. It was five minutes past midnight. His contact was late. Well, the man had five more minutes, and if Brooks didn't make it, it was no skin off his back. After all, they had other leads on the '09 escapees. Although it may take longer, it was only a matter of time until his team captured one.
Once that happened, he could quit this crap assignment and return home. Seth had grown indifferent to the Reds under his command; they were little better than walking automatons and just as stupid. It's why he pushed his Red team harder, promising a stay of death if they recovered one of the X5s that escaped from Manticore in December '09. The genetics which made all X-series superior human specimens would similarly extend their life beyond the six-month window all Reds were given upon receiving their implants.
Of course, it was utter bullshit, but his team didn't need to know that. No, all he needed for them to do was live long enough to get him an X5. A female would be preferable, not just for the genetic material they could harvest from her, but they could also use her for breeding, increasing their given samples. Command had requested he acquire a male and female specimen for that purpose.
Except he'd been searching for these escapees since last year, and as of yet only found rumors and little else. Nothing substantial, and he only had 12 outdated photos to work with, a list of their capabilities, and individual barcodes for each escaped X5. That didn't give him much to work with because whenever he investigated a rumor, Manticore was quick to either beat him to the punch or follow up, leaving him little time to examine if the rumor was accurate or bullshit. And Command didn't want Manticore, particularly one Colonel Lydecker, becoming aware of their activities in the US, nor their prerogative to capture one of his premier X5s. So he was forced to play cat and mouse and babysit a new batch of Reds every six months.
When Seth looked at his watch and found ten minutes had passed, he was about to walk away, considering the deal a bust. Then his contact walked up, looking around furtively as he swallowed nervously and eyed him with greed and suspicion. Yes, individuals that took money to sell out for profit were generally of that character. "I was about to leave, Brooks. Good thing you showed, or this twenty-five grand would have found its way to someone else's pocket."
Brooks' eyes darted to the case in his hand, and the greed in his ferret eyes grew more pronounced before he licked his lips and pulled out a disk from his long coat. "I have what I promised and more," his words were squeaky, nearly matching his ferret-like appearance. American: home of the Land of the Free, or, more accurately, Greedy.
But he'd bite, having been promised an accurate photo for one of the escapees, one which would make his job more straightforward. "Alright, explain." He waited as they exchanged his case for the disk. Once Brooks verified his payment was accurate, he continued.
"The disk has detailed information and updated photos of X5-493, and X5-494 his twin brother." Seth frowned as he looked at the disk. He didn't recognize X5-494, thinking for a second as he ran the list through his head. No, he wasn't one of the escaped X5s from 2009.
Brooks continued. "He recently escaped with X5-493 while on assignment. He's one of Manticore's top field agents." Then he paused, clutching the case closer. "But the extra I promised… two of my fellow agents have been put on the case: Hendrickson and Jacobs. Although those two are the only verified X5 escapees, one of the X5s accompanying Colonel Lydecker created a program capable of accurately aging up images of the other 12 escapees."
Brooks paused, rubbing the case while the greed in his eyes became obscene. His words were enticing since proof of these two would make Command happy and if they had accurate photos of all the escapees it would make his job easier.
"It would take more time, and I'd be risking much, but I could attempt to get you those updated photos for a larger fee."
He took a step closer and clapped Brooks on the shoulder. "Brooks," he said, making the man flinch, "you get me the updated photos, and I'll guarantee you another twenty-five grand for each new photo." Then he held up a finger as he removed his other hand from Brook's shoulder. "But they have to be accurate. If not…" Seth snapped his fingers, and the two Reds accompanying him, previously invisible to the naked eye, stepped into view: Red 10 and Red 14.
Brooks stepped back, looking terrified at the new additions to the party. Seth didn't need to elaborate on the threat as the two Reds were an obvious enough hint. Brooks swallowed as his eyes darted to the hulking Reds, who seemed to be getting bigger with each new batch—making intimidation easier.
"It'll be difficult since the X5 who created the program is better than me with computers and nearly caught me when I obtained that," he said as his gaze moved to the disk.
Seth smiled. It was not meant to please. "Well, I leave that to you. Remember my offer and keep my number handy if you acquire more data on the escapees."
The man jumped and scurried off at his words, genuinely resembling a ferret. Holding up the disk, Seth was beginning to feel better. He now had more evidence than he'd started with, and with the road gangs keeping an eye out for him, he might have a leg up on Colonel Lydecker. That trip back home was firmly within his grasp. "Come on, boys, let's head back to base. This disk contains the key to your extended longevity."
Here's the next chapter, thanks to beta Eff-Dot. I appreciate it if you want to leave feedback or anything else.
Notes: Hendrickson is now involved; though his part will be small like Lydecker, he will pop up occasionally. Also, the Reds and a certain King of the Crossroads will appear in one of the Twin's future cases. Enjoy.