Disclaimer: Saban still owns Power Rangers, I still don't. I only own anything you don't recognize.
A/N: OK, big chapter here. For those of you who are starting to get impatient, don't worry - Jason's big reveal is just around the corner. First, though, we have two more former rangers to catch up with, one of whom is in an interesting situation.
Thanks for all the reviews, follows, favorites and general support. You guys rock. Enjoy!
Unknown Location
Somewhere Outside Angel Grove, CA
July 10, 2012
9:30 AM
"Just promise you won't do anything crazy without me."
Billy Cranston shoved his hands into his pockets and squinted at the wall-sized monitor before him. Complicated statistics, equations, diagrams, and images filled the screen, casting the dark room in a dim glow of blue light that formed a rough semicircle on the floor where he stood. The expansive room behind him remained hidden in shadow, the faint, glistening silhouettes of sophisticated equipment the only thing visible through the thick darkness. Billy turned and picked up a small tablet from a table behind him; as he slid a finger across the screen, an image on the wall before him was flung to the right, transitioning seamlessly to an adjacent monitor. Billy moved a few other equations and diagrams around before he paused, his finger hovering over the tablet.
"Wait," he murmured out loud. He placed his thumb and forefinger on the tablet and moved them slowly apart, magnifying a portion of the screen immediately in front of him. He raised his hand and pointed at a particular sequence of symbols, following them with a finger as he mouthed the equation to himself. "If I can successfully integrate the regenerative properties of this compound into the existing formula…" he glanced down at the tablet and made several quick swiping motions, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. After a moment, he stopped, looked up at the screen, then back at the tablet before jerking his head up and gaping at what he saw displayed before him, his mouth dropping open.
"Then the resulting solution would be able to simultaneously stimulate existing neurons and rebuild decaying brain tissue!" He whispered in awe. Beaming, Billy turned and set the tablet back on the table, aligning it carefully with one corner. After a moment, the table's surface lit up and a grid-like display appeared over a backdrop of an old diagram of an atom. Billy tapped a few times on the tablet and a new display appeared on the larger table, simulating the combination of several different synthetic chemical compounds. As the simulation played out, Billy sighed and ran a hand nervously through his hair, beginning to pace the length of the room, speaking softly to himself.
He was jarred out of his reverie by a sharp, high-pitched tone that seemed to fill every corner of the room, so suddenly Billy nearly stumbled into the wall. The tone was followed by a deep, muffled voice that boomed from invisible speakers, echoing off the walls.
"Dr. Cranston, you have a call on your private line. They say it's urgent."
"Damn it, Jensen!" Billy said angrily, leaning against the table as he spoke. "I have reminded General Blaylock numerous times that if he wants me working R&D for him I cannot be disturbed while I'm working."
"Doc, per General Blaylock's own orders, all R&D staff are subject to the discretion of military personnel on base. Entry logs show you've been here for the last 46 hours straight; there's a fine line between dedication and being cut off from the outside world."
Billy slammed a fist on the table and turned back to the screens, crossing his arms over his chest. "Three Ph. D.'s and I get to be psychoanalyzed by grunts. Not exactly the Nobel Prize," he muttered under his breath, his anger made sharper by lack of sleep. "Fine," he said louder. "Put it through on the earpiece. Oh, and Jensen? For the love of god, stop calling me Doc."
"Right. Morning!" The hum of the intercom ceased just as Billy's patience with Jensen's far too cheerful tone dried up. He let out a frustrated snort and strode back into the darkness of the room.
"Lights," Billy said, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. The room immediately flooded with the harsh white light of the fluorescent bulbs that lined the ceiling, illuminating a collection of advanced scientific equipment. Billy blinked rapidly against the sudden brightness and made his way to an apparatus that resembled one of the medical tables from the old Command Center. On the corner of this table was a small device that vaguely resembled a Bluetooth headset; Billy picked it up and attached it to his ear. Leaning back against the corner of the table, keeping one eye on his simulation in progress, Billy pressed a button on the device and curtly said, "Cranston, R&D."
There was a pause on the other end before a familiar voice said, "Do you always answer your phone like that at work? You sound so official."
"I wouldn't know, I'm afraid," Billy responded automatically. "I receive phone calls so infrequently at work that I have no empirical knowledge to – wait. Kimberly?"
There was a soft giggle. "Yes, William. Did you forget you gave Jason and me your work number?"
Billy smiled. "Affirmative," he replied. "Your call was entirely unanticipated."
Kim exhaled into the phone before speaking again. "Is everything all right, Billy? We don't talk as much as we used to but I know for a fact that you only start with the tech speak – or use my full name – anymore when something's going on."
Billy shook his head. Same old Kim. Sometimes he swore that woman could read minds. "It's nothing," he said after a beat. "I just haven't slept much lately. Been pretty busy."
"Doing what again, exactly?"
Yep. Same old Kim. Billy was no psychologist but he knew prying when he heard it. "Sorry, Kimberly. Do you have any idea how much trouble I'd get in if I talked about this with you?"
"You've gotten way too good at keeping secrets, Billy," Kim teased. "Anyway, I'm calling because, uh…" she trailed off and Billy heard her whisper to someone in the background.
He heard another voice say something like, "You want me to tell him?" There was a rustling sound and more muffled voices before he heard Kim again.
"Something happened today, Billy. It was…it scared us shitless. Jason and I are calling everyone to a meeting at our place to, uh…explain some things. We really need you to be there."
Billy felt a knot of worry begin to form in the pit of his stomach. He pushed himself off the table and began wandering the lab aimlessly; letting his nervous legs move on their own. "Kim, what's wrong? What happened?"
"Look," Kim said, her voice laced with nervous tension. "Just trust me when I say this is really important and you really need to hear this. Can you be at our place at ten?"
Billy glanced at his watch. "Shit. Kim, that's only fifteen minutes from now. I'm at least an hour outside of Angel Grove, I can't-"
"What about Skype or something? Come on Billy, we really need you to hear this."
"Well, Skype won't work, I don't have Internet access anywhere that's private and I'm assuming this is…"
"Yeah." It was all she needed to say. Billy had had a feeling this was Ranger related; privacy was a top priority.
"I think our only viable option would be a simple conference call, but I'd have to find a private place to do it. How long do you need me?"
"It might take a while," Kim admitted. "A few hours, possibly."
Billy took a long, slow breath. "I don't know, Kim. I'm on the verge of an extremely important breakthrough here, and I don't think I can step away for that long – or find sufficient privacy, for that matter."
"Don't make me sic Jason on you."
He froze. "You wouldn't."
"Famous last words, dude." Now it was Jason's voice coming through the phone. "I'd give the lady what she wants. She can be very…persuasive." Billy opened his mouth to reply, but he found himself at a loss for words.
"Billy?" Kim asked gently. "What do you think?"
Suddenly Jason broke in again. "You know how she gets when she's angry! Don't try to be a hero, Billy, it's not worth your life…!"
There were several grunts and muffled laughter from the other end of the call before Kim finally came on again.
"Billy, come on, this is really important, I wouldn't be calling you at work if it wasn't. Please?"
Billy sighed and gripped the bridge of his nose. "All right. I'll see what I can do. If I can figure something out I'll call you back at ten."
"Oh my god, thank you, Billy. You have no idea how much we appreciate this, really. Thank you."
"Just promise you won't do anything crazy without me."
"Deal."
The call ended and Billy yanked the earpiece off, tossing it back on the table and beginning to pace again. He absently checked the simulation on the table again, noting that it had encountered an error of some kind and failed to complete. "Son of a bitch."
Groaning to himself, Billy took his cell phone out of his pocket, turned it on, and made his way out the door to try and find some privacy. He stepped into the hallway and glanced to his right to see if anyone was coming. Seeing no one, he turned around to head the other way and collided with a stocky man in a military uniform. The file in the man's hands went flying, scattering papers all over the hallway floor. Stumbling back, Billy looked up at the man; his graying hair was cut in a neat, military style; his face seemed to be composed entirely of straight lines, everything about him rigid and precise. The man raised a thick, beefy hand to his head and groaned.
"Cranston? What the hell are you doing?"
Billy knelt to collect some of the papers from the floor. "Sorry, General Blaylock. I was in a bit of a hurry and-"
"What you'll be in is a world of shit if any of these files get lost," Blaylock snapped, turning to pick up a few stray pages.
Billy frowned and almost retorted – Blaylock was never like this, he had always known him to be surprisingly calm and easygoing – when one of the pictures caught his eye. He held it up and gaped at it, eyes widening in disbelief. It appeared to be a police photo; in it, a corpse lay slumped against a tree, the shadow of the photographer lying over it on the grass. It was the two perfectly round, totally cauterized wounds in the man's chest, however, that immediately piqued Billy's interest.
"Uh, General?" Blaylock turned and Billy held the photo out in front of him. "What is this? Where did you get this photo?"
Blaylock went white; suddenly, he snatched the photo out of Billy's hand so quickly Billy was left holding a torn corner of the page between his fingers. "Way above your pay grade, Doc. Forget you saw anything."
"General-"
Billy was interrupted by Blaylock grabbing him by the collar and shoving his face into Billy's, so close together their noses touched. "Listen to me, you little shit," Blaylock growled. Billy's eyes widened in shock. "You speak one word of this to anyone and I will hunt you down and gouge your eyes out with a fucking can opener. You got that?"
Billy felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck. He was frozen by fear and surprise, Blaylock's highly uncharacteristic behavior catching him entirely off guard. Billy gulped and managed a weak nod; Blaylock seemed satisfied and shoved him backward, gathering up the remaining papers and pushing past Billy down the hallway. Billy stared after him, rubbing the back of his neck.
What the hell was all that about?
Sighing to himself, Billy turned and strode down the hallway, the opposite direction of where Blaylock had headed. Wherever that picture had come from, it had driven Blaylock totally apeshit. As much as he respected the man, Billy felt a stirring need to know how he'd come across the picture, as well as the true nature of its contents.
"Great," he muttered as he located a secluded alcove and lifted his phone. "Like I wasn't busy enough already."
In Transit
Angel Grove, CA
July 10, 2012
9:45 AM
Trini Kwan moaned and shifted her weight, trying to find a more comfortable position. She lay stretched out on the backseat of Zack's Jeep, her face pressed against the vinyl, the seatbelt buckle digging painfully into her right hip. The bright, piercing beams of morning California sunlight streamed through the windows, tormenting her with its ubiquity. Even with her eyes closed, it wouldn't leave her alone. She tried folding her hands beneath her head as a makeshift pillow, ignoring how much the position resembled the way a three-year-old would pantomime sleeping. Squeezing her eyes shut, Trini focused on slowing her breathing and tried to filter out Zack and Tanya's loud singing from the front seat; the song Tanya was playing involved a lot of falsetto, and Zack wasn't particularly good at it. To Trini's tired ears, the former Black Ranger sounded more like a dying goat than anything musical, but the two of them went on undeterred.
After a while, the noise became intolerable, and Trini could restrain herself no longer.
"Would you two kindly stop murdering all those innocent cats up there? Some of us are trying to sleep."
Zack turned the music down and laughed. "Don't think there's a very good chance of that happening, Tri. We're like five minutes from Jase and Kim's place; I don't see you getting your beauty sleep in by then. Maybe you could sing along with us. It's really helping me wake up." He spoke with barely stifled mirth, fighting back a grin as he glanced at her weary face in the rearview mirror.
"Fuck off, Zack," Trini shot back, her tone made biting by fatigue. "You aren't the one who just got back from three weeks in Africa. I'm gonna be jetlagged for the next month." The slender Asian rolled over so she faced into the back of the seat and nestled into the fabric again. "Whatever Kat wanted had better be damn good or there will be heads rolling."
"Actually, Trini, before we get there, I think I should bring you a little more up to speed about that," Tanya suddenly said, twisting around in her seat to look directly at Trini. "We did kinda kidnap you without much explanation." The original Yellow Ranger rolled over reluctantly at her words and made eye contact. "Kat was just a messenger. This whole thing was Jason and Kim's idea. They had Tommy tell Kat to start calling everyone a couple hours ago. Apparently something happened today that scared all three of them so badly they felt an emergency meeting was necessary."
Trini slowly sat up, her narrow, almond-shaped eyes widening. "What? What happened? Is everything OK?"
"Clearly not or we wouldn't have had to drag you out of bed," Zack put in as he took a turn too fast and threw Trini against one wall. As Zack straightened the car out again he added, "Literally."
Trini's heartbeat had begun to speed up. She reached over absently and fastened her seatbelt, placing herself behind Zack to allow direct eye contact with Tanya. "How long ago was this?"
"We got the call while Zack was opening the studio for the day," Tanya replied. "That was nearly two hours ago. Then Kat called and told us you weren't answering your phone, yadda yadda yadda, Zack threw a glass of cold water in your face, and here we are."
Trini managed a tiny smile at Tanya's lighthearted recap of the last two hours. It was the most she could do – she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in almost two months, and it was really beginning to take its toll. Malawi had been very productive, just…not to her bodily health. She guessed it came with the high-stress job she'd insisted on pursuing, and she really wouldn't rather be doing anything else, but right this second she had this gnawing urge to crawl into the nearest hole and hibernate for the next six months like a grizzly bear.
Now, though, the attempt at humor fizzled and died. The atmosphere in the car had suddenly become tense and awkward, as if nobody wanted to acknowledge the concern they were feeling.
"How did Kat sound on the phone?" Trini asked more to break the silence than anything else. "Did it seem like anything catastrophic?"
Zack and Tanya exchanged looks, and Trini felt an involuntary shiver go through her as she watched them. Finally Zack spoke up. "She sounded pretty shaken up herself. Said something about Tommy having seen something and how if we had been there we would know why they were so freaked."
"She also said that Tommy was using a tone she hadn't heard since they were Rangers together, one he only used when things had gone seriously wrong," Tanya added nervously, hoping the isolated cabin of the vehicle would be sufficient privacy to bring up their past. "She didn't use those exact words, but whatever she'd heard from Tommy clearly had her terrified."
Trini blew out a breath and turned to stare blankly out the window. As the houses and cars and freshly cut lawns flew by outside, she found herself wishing desperately that she hadn't received this information third-hand. This was not the kind of message you wanted to play Telephone with, no matter how much you trusted the people relaying it to you. Trini knew that if she'd had more direct information, she wouldn't be so anxious right now; she wouldn't have time. She would be too busy analyzing every possible aspect of the situation, turning it over in her head and searching every possible facet for an in, a step in the right direction. It was an ability that had served her very well as a Ranger, and she'd put it to even better use in her current capacity. She straightened as a new wave of resolve filled her.
"Don't worry, guys," Trini said, her voice calm, almost cheerful. "If all eleven of us put our heads together, we'll figure this out. We always do."
"You mean we always did," Zack said quietly, gripping the wheel a little tighter. "We aren't Rangers anymore, Tri. Not all of us are equipped to handle crises of epic proportions."
"I'm not superhuman, Zack," Trini replied softly. Zack flicked his eyes toward her reflection in the rearview mirror, exactly the reaction she'd hoped for. She'd been aiming for the tone she had always broken out during their teenage years when things had seemed hopeless – a special timbre of reassurance mixed with cold reality that she'd never heard duplicated. She was glad he'd picked up on it. "But if I can defuse a potential civil war on two hours of sleep a night without much more than a shiny badge and good intentions, we can handle this. Trust me."
Zack turned back to the road, grinning. "Wow, Tri. I always wondered if you did that on purpose."
"Well, I'm much more level-headed with a healthier sleep schedule, but yeah, it was always on purpose. It's a thing I can do." Trini balled her right hand into a fist and cupped her left hand around it, gazing out the window again. Her reflection stared back at her, the image of a woman worn ragged by a labor of love. Frowning at the bags under her eyes, Trini adjusted her focus to look past the reflection at the houses they were passing. Turning her concentration inward, she began a breathing exercise she'd learned as a teenager, trying to relax. It seemed like she'd convinced Zack of her confidence. Now she just had to convince herself.
On the bright side, though, she thought as her breathing became deep and rhythmic. I'm not the least bit sleepy anymore.
