Disclaimer: Power Rangers is property of Saban. I don't own anything except plot ideas and characters that weren't on TV.

A/N: Bet you guys thought you'd never see me again, huh? I'm so sorry this took so long to update, but when I said things would be sporadic I apparently meant it more than I thought I did. Once again - I have no intention of leaving this story unfinished. There may be gaps in between *rolls eyes* "Gaps, he says..." but it'll all happen eventually. In the meantime, thanks for everyone who's read, reviewed, etc. so far. Enjoy!


ERECA Headquarters
Somewhere Outside Angel Grove, CA
July 11, 2012
Noon

"God damn it, Billy. What the fuck did you do?"

Billy turned another corner and raced forward down another brightly lit hallway. The second he'd gotten Jason onto the gurney he'd been swarmed by ERECA medical staff who had not hesitated in yanking the stretcher into the building as fast as they could. It was with a tinge of chagrin that Billy realized he'd only made it too clear how urgent his needs were; the team of six techs and doctors who had taken the gurney from him were moving so fast he was having a hard time keeping up.

"Slow down, god damn it," Billy grunted as they rounded another corner, the gurney's wheels clattering over the linoleum floor. He had to reach out and grab a hold of Jason's foot in order to avoid being left behind. "Won't do him any good if you kill him before he gets to the Med Bay."

The head doctor on the gurney shot Billy a glare but slowed the pace a little. "Sorry, Dr. Cranston; Corporal Billings seemed to think this was some kind of emergency."

"Billings is a moron," Billy said dismissively, moving toward the front of the gurney and readjusting the mask over Jason's face. "I want him down there quickly but it's not like he's having a heart attack right this second. There's no need to set a new land speed record."

One of the techs tapped his earpiece. "Dr. Cranston," he said, glancing at Billy. "The neural scanners and the MRI are ready downstairs, as you requested."

Billy nodded. "Good. Has the equipment from the Manchurian Project been brought over?"

The tech repeated Billy's question into a radio he wore clipped to his shoulder. "On its way now," he said after a moment. "They want to know if you need the whole setup or just certain bits and pieces."

"I don't know exactly what the whole setup entails," Billy said with a frown. "But I know they have a cranial jig and some kind of laser array. Let's start with those and see where we go."

The tech nodded and spoke into his radio again. Billy turned to the main doctor, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

"Why do we have to go all this way for a simple MRI?"

The doctor looked like he really wanted to roll his eyes. "We wouldn't, doc, but you didn't ask for just a simple MRI." He let go of the gurney and pulled a small tablet out of his lab coat. "You wanted the premium package with the neural scans, and you and I both know that that equipment takes up an entire room all by itself and that room is typically booked for weeks in advance. For whatever reason you have enough clout around here to force your way into the schedule through sheer force of name recognition, but if we're gonna squeeze your friend here into that room between other appointments, we have to go there first or we'll be waiting outside the door for three days like teenage girls at a Jonas Brothers concert." Billy arched his eyebrows at that and the doctor scoffed. "What? Come talk to me when you have three daughters and see how much shitty pop music you hear about."

"Whatever," Billy grumbled, feeling no danger in rolling his own eyes. "Just get us to the damn elevator so we can get this over with."

"We can go faster if you want," one of the other techs said dryly. Billy turned and shot the man a withering glare. "Or not." Billy groaned and turned back to the lead doctor, who had bent over Jason's face and was taking measurements, inputting results on his tablet as he walked. Billy's hand shot out and grabbed the man's wrist.

"That won't be necessary," Billy said firmly. "We're only here for a few very specific tests, I just want to run them and get the hell out." He gestured to the tablet. "And I'm gonna need you to erase those measurements."

The doctor regarded him skeptically. "You really are every kind of doctor but the one that counts, aren't you?"

Billy looked at him for a long moment before saying very softly, "And if you make one more crack like that I will see to it that you aren't any kind at all. Now erase the fucking measurements before you really piss me off."

The doctor eyed Billy warily for a long moment, not even watching where he was walking as the gurney continued down the hallway. Finally he turned back to the tablet and tapped it a few more times. He turned it and held it up so Billy could see the blank space where the measurements had been. "What exactly is going on here, doc?" He slid the tablet back into his pocket. "Something tells me General Blaylock wouldn't be too happy if he knew about this."

"General Blaylock and I have an agreement," Billy shot back as the group rounded a final corner to arrive at a bank of elevators, including the only one big enough to fit the gurney. "When we're done here you can ask him all about it."

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Billy and the head doctor glanced up to see Peter Blaylock standing in the middle of the elevator bank, hands clasped behind his back, his face split by a grin that was dripping with self-satisfaction. "Dr. Cranston, I had hoped I could catch up to you here."

"Sorry General," Billy said, brushing past Blaylock and tapping the call button for the large elevator. "I'm in a bit of a rush right now, we can talk later." The gurney went past him toward the elevator, and something new flashed across Blaylock's face. Billy frowned, a knot of anxiety beginning to take hold in his stomach. The General was staring down at Jason with what looked like…recognition?

No way. Blaylock and Jason had never met – the General couldn't possibly know who the unconscious man on the gurney was. And yet something about Blaylock's entire countenance had just changed, his eyes becoming more intense, his back straightening, his mouth curling into a smile that was almost a sneer.

At first Billy was worried the general would stop them, but he allowed the gurney to roll right past him into the elevator. As Billy moved to join it, though, the general's hand shot out and grabbed a handful of his shirt. Billy stared at Blaylock in confusion, blinking several times as he tried to verbalize a question.

Blaylock didn't give him a chance. He nodded to the group of doctors, who hit a button and let the doors slide shut, cutting Billy off from them.

From Jason.

Billy finally found his backbone and pulled himself free of Blaylock's grip. "General, I don't know what the hell you think is going on here, but I really don't have time –"

"You're gonna make time, doc," Blaylock interrupted, his voice so low it was nearly a growl. "Or your friend won't leave this facility alive."

Billy gulped as a terrible realization took hold. "You know him, don't you?"

Blaylock laughed at that, loud and barking, the laughter of a man who knows he has won. "Oh, Doc, you're just scratching the surface of what I know. Now come on." He slung an arm around Billy's shoulders and began leading him back down the hallway. "We're going to continue this conversation in your office." He turned and looked the rapidly paling Billy in the eye. "I think there are a few things you need to share with the class."


ERECA Headquarters
Corridor Outside William Cranston's Private Lab
12:10 PM

Peter Blaylock couldn't believe his luck.

When the report had reached him that Cranston had suddenly shown up unannounced at the facility on his day off – and in the company of an unconscious stranger, to boot – he'd thought it must be some kind of prank. Only the day after he'd discovered what the resident genius had been up to and suddenly here he was, presenting himself to Blaylock on a day when the facility only housed a skeleton crew of security and emergency technicians. And making some very strange demands, as well. Medical equipment? Neural scanners?

And don't even get me started on the equipment from Manchurian, Blaylock thought with a grimace. How was Cranston even aware that that project existed? The only possibility that made sense was some kind of security leak; Blaylock had a feeling he'd be going mole hunting by the end of the week.

And then, like a ray of light from Heaven itself, there came the most beautiful revelation of all: Cranston's unconscious companion was none other than Special Agent Jason Scott, FBI. Every accusation the general had been planning on making to the young doctor's face suddenly became unnecessary – here was his proof right in front of him, dead to the world and tied to a stretcher. Blaylock felt like he'd just won the lottery on Christmas while being blown by Mila Kunis. He'd had to stop himself from laughing out loud; it took every ounce of his self-control not to have a full-on Bond villain moment. Blaylock could only imagine what had possessed Cranston to bring the man here; part of him was already looking forward to making introductions when the agent woke up.

But all of that could wait. Right now, he was standing outside the door to Cranston's lab, his arm wrapped around the younger man's neck in a way that would appear to any third party to be entirely innocent, almost affectionate. But the way he occasionally flexed his muscles against Cranston's neck and dug his fingers into his shoulder, Blaylock left no question that the gesture was anything but.

"General, listen," Cranston started, his voice thin and a tad shaky. "I don't know what you think is going on here, but-"

"Come on, Doc, you're way too smart to play dumb," Blaylock interrupted, giving the other man a light shake. "Now if you would kindly open the door, we can get this over with."

"And what if I don't?" Fantastic. Kid picked one hell of a time to try and grow a pair. Blaylock smiled. This was the closest he'd ever felt to being genuinely giddy.

"Son," he said with the most disgustingly condescending tone he could muster. "I am really starting to want you to make me show you." He peeled his arm off of Cranston's shoulders and shoved him forward. "Now we need your password to open the door, and I'm sure your friend Agent Scott-" Blaylock took a sick satisfaction in the way Cranston's face drained of blood at the mention of the name – "would appreciate not waking up with a .44 caliber bullet hole where his right eye should be." The young scientist's eyes widened slightly; Blaylock could see him swallow hard, a vein beginning to stand out in his throat. The general clapped a hand over his mouth in an exaggerated display of shock. "Uh oh," he said, playing sheepish. "Spoiler alert."

Cranston took a step back and blinked rapidly several times, running a hand over his face. "General Blaylock," he croaked, clearly fighting to keep his voice steady. "Sir, please. Clearly you want something from me; I have no godly idea what the hell it is, but I would be more than happy to accommodate you." Cranston licked his lips and held a hand out in front of him, palm out, as though trying to hold Blaylock back. "But Jas- Agent Scott has nothing to do with this. You want to threaten someone, it ought to be me."

"Well ain't that fucking noble," Blaylock said with a smirk. "And on a first name basis already? How romantic." The general's plastered on smile finally dissolved into a rueful scowl. "Reality check, doc: you're not the one calling the shots right now. In case it slipped your mind somewhere between committing sabotage and consorting with the enemy, I am the man in charge of this facility and I will threaten whoever I goddamn want. Now if it isn't too much trouble, would you please be so kind as to open the fucking door?"

Cranston winced at the harshness of the last few words and Blaylock suppressed another grin. Finally the young genius turned and placed his palm over a panel next to the door; after a moment and a few soft beeps, the panel slid open to reveal a keypad. Cranston quickly tapped a sequence of buttons, his movements demonstrating the fluid smoothness of muscle memory. "Access granted," a gentle female voice said from a speaker above the panel. "Good afternoon, Dr. Cranston."

The door to the lab slid open. Blaylock felt a surge of excitement rush through his entire body. He hadn't felt this charged up since his last tour of active duty. The next grin was irrepressible.

This is gonna be fun.


ERECA Headquarters
William Cranston's Private Laboratory – Interior
12:20 PM

Billy took a couple of tentative steps across the threshold of his lab, the room that had been almost a refuge for him after his return to Earth, a soothing bridge between his new home and his old one via his deep love of science and discovery. Now, though, the entire room had suddenly become a liability, everything inside threatening to tear apart everything he'd worked to accomplish here. There were things in this room that no other human was supposed to see, not ever, not even the people Billy trusted most. And yet the former Blue Ranger knew with growing dread that General Blaylock was not going to be satisfied until he had purged every secret from this laboratory – and anything Billy tried to do to stop him would potentially put Jason's life at stake.

More so than it already was, anyway.

Billy wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and shifted nervously from one foot to the other as he waited for Blaylock to enter the lab behind him. Struggling to get his breathing under control, Billy suddenly realized he was doing something he'd never consciously done before – he was keeping his eyes in constant motion, making an active effort to avoid letting his gaze linger in any one place for too long. There was a very good chance that by the time he got out of here, General Blaylock would be in possession of some of the most dangerous secrets held by any human in the entire universe; but maybe, just maybe, if Billy could keep himself from unnecessarily cueing Blaylock in to everything he'd hidden in this lab, he could at least minimize the damage.

He hoped.

"Impressive toys you got here, doc," Blaylock said with a soft whistle, eying the assortment of gleaming, sophisticated alien equipment with what Billy was startled to find appeared to be genuine awe. "Some of this stuff looks like it popped out of a Bradbury novel." The general turned and regarded him, his eyes narrowing. "Is this why you wouldn't let anyone help you unload in here?"

Billy nodded. Starting small. Fortunate. Hopefully I can ease him away from the bigger stuff. "Yes. I had the equipment brought in in boxes and then unpacked everything myself." Blaylock slid his hand along a sleek metal arm that extended from an Aquitian spectrometry rig. Suddenly he looked up and met Billy's gaze, his eyes twinkling with barely concealed glee.

"This stuff isn't from around here, is it?"

Billy's mouth went dry. Damn. He catches on quick. He put on a face of the most sincere bewilderment he could manage. "I'm not sure what you mean, General."

Blaylock snorted. "Bullshit." The general pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and tapped a button. "Jensen. Put the feed from the Med Bay through to Cranston's office. I don't give a shit if he has it restricted, put in my override code." He tapped the phone again and shoved it back into his jacket.

Billy frowned. "What was that?" As if in answer, one of the monitors flickered to life, displaying what appeared to be a live camera feed from the facility's Medical Bay. Billy moved closer for a better look. The angle was from a corner near the ceiling; Billy could see the only door to the windowless room on the opposite wall.

In the center of the room, the group of techs and doctors Billy had entered with had taken Jason off the gurney and strapped him onto some kind of upright rig. The unconscious former Ranger's arms were spread out to his sides and strapped down at the wrist and elbow; another strap went around his shoulders, another two at his chest and stomach, and one at each thigh, knee and ankle. There was a final strap at forehead level, but for now the doctors seemed content to allow Jason's head to slump forward onto his chest. As Billy watched, his heartbeat growing louder in his ears, three men in body armor and thick combat helmets pushed their way into the room and ushered out all but two of the doctors, who they made stand on the far side of the room, under the camera. Blaylock pointed at the screen; when Billy turned toward the sound of his voice, he realized the general had his phone out again. The general made no greeting, no small talk. He only said two words.

"Secure him."

One of the men moved forward, drew his sidearm, and gently pressed the barrel against the side of Jason's head. Billy took an involuntary step forward, gasping in shock. Blaylock put a hand on his chest to hold him in place. "Don't, Doc." Billy swallowed hard and glanced up into Blaylock's face. "I'm not fucking around here, Cranston. You put one toe, one hair out of line, you make this the least bit difficult for me, and he dies. Am I absolutely fucking clear?"

All Billy could do was nod. Blaylock started to smirk, but a sound from the monitor drew both men's attention. Jason groaned and stirred a little, shaking his head from side to side. Suddenly the former Red Ranger's head jerked upright, his eyes darting frantically around the unfamiliar room. The man with the gun moved to stand directly in front of him, leveling the gun at Jason's eye level. Blaylock chuckled as another man moved forward, put his entire hand over Jason's face and shoved it back against the rig while he fastened the strap over his forehead with his free hand. The third man moved forward and pressed a phone against Jason's right ear. Blaylock raised his own again and tapped the screen; after a moment, he spoke again.

"Agent Scott." On the monitor, Jason's face went white. "I apologize profusely for the rude awakening. Welcome to ERECA."

Jason snapped back into warrior mode, his face instantly going cold and angry. He spoke very calmly but with an unmistakable undercurrent of fury. "Where the fuck is Billy? And who the hell are you?"

"Dr. Cranston is fine. He and I just needed to have a little chat while we got you situated." Jason rolled his eyes at that. "As for who I am?" Blaylock glanced sidelong at Billy and grinned devilishly. "Don't worry about that for now. You and I will be meeting in person in the very near future. In fact I'm very much looking forward to it." Blaylock severed the connection and shoved the phone away. On the monitor, Jason let his head flop back against the rig, snorting in frustration. That was the last Billy saw; Blaylock stepped forward and switched off the monitor, the image of Jason and the gun held against his forehead lingering in Billy's vision for several seconds.

"Now," Blaylock said, somehow grinning even wider. He rubbed his hands together and stared at Billy hungrily, like a wolf would look at a cornered rabbit. "Where were we?"


ERECA Headquarters
Medical Bay
12:20 PM

The first thing Jason became aware of was a loud buzzing. It faded in and out, growing louder and softer almost rhythmically, as though he were passing under a series of giant fluorescent lightbulbs. Gradually, the noise began to steadily increase in intensity, moving in and shaping itself around him in the dark until it felt like his entire body was vibrating.

After a moment, his head began to clear a little further, and the original Red Ranger noticed a distinct feeling of detachment, as though his mind had come uncoupled from his body and was simply drifting along in the blissful darkness of sleep. Jason gently probed at the edges of his consciousness until he slowly started to drift back into himself. He felt the bizarre sensation of his nerve endings restarting themselves, a jolt of surprise flashing a terrifying shade of red against his closed eyelids as his brain was suddenly flooded with stimuli.

The process of regaining control of his muscles was frighteningly complicated. Jason had to methodically feel his way along every part of his body from the neck down – his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his arms, his hips, all the way down to his toes – and force his way back into control of them, one at a time. Each new extremity felt like it had a brick wall around it, each one he came to somehow taking even longer to break down than the one before it. By the time feeling had returned to his entire body, Jason was so exhausted he could only passively experience himself being lifted roughly off the bed and strapped to an upright surface, his arms flung out to his sides to leave his torso unguarded.

Jason was only distantly aware of his chin flopping against his chest; his attention had been drawn to his newly awakened hearing. The buzzing was back, only much more subdued now. He heard several different voices around him, but he was unable to decipher any particular words; whatever they said, after a moment of intense conversation several sets of footsteps rushed past him and a door swung open and shut.

That was when he felt the cold metal pressed against the side of his head.

Aw, shit. As if I wasn't fucked enough already. He knew he needed to get a visual on this, but he was reluctant to reveal that he'd regained consciousness until he absolutely had to.

Jason experimentally flexed a couple of muscles, trying out the bonds before daring to try and open his eyes. The straps were heavy leather, thick and sturdy; even if he hadn't just started to wake up from – what the hell happened to me anyway? – nothing short of morph-enhanced strength could have broken him out of there. The former Red Ranger took a deep, steadying breath and was about to try and open his eyes when an involuntary shudder went through him; the muscles in his neck twitched and he felt an unconscious groan escape his mouth.

Damn it. Whoever's in here wouldn't have missed that. Figuring he'd been outed already anyway, Jason shook his head back and forth a few times to jar the last of the cobwebs loose. He swallowed a couple times to wet his throat, discreetly curled his hands into fists, and steeled himself for whatever situation he'd been dragged into. Here we go. Gonna have to do this sooner or later. Jason's eyes popped open and his head jerked back against the board behind him; a part of him noticed the empty strap behind his head. His deep brown eyes did a hasty scan of the room, taking in the harsh lighting, lack of windows, the two men in lab coats cowering in one corner, and the other three men in body armor who had encircled him like a pack of wolves. Before he could even say anything, one of the men stepped toward him and pressed his entire hand over Jason's face, shoving it back against the board. One of the other men moved in and fastened the strap over Jason's forehead.

The former Ranger growled against the rough glove over his mouth and struggled as much as he could using only his head and neck, but eventually the hand was withdrawn and the thick leather was pulled tight against his head. Jason strained against the straps but it seemed he'd finally been tied up by someone who knew what the hell they were doing.

He bit back a bitter chuckle. Christ, I'm almost impressed.

The man with the gun had moved in front of him while the strap was fastened. Jason felt his eyes cross slightly as he peered down the barrel, doing his best to maintain his cool. This was far from the first gun that had been pointed in his face.

Someone put a phone to his right ear. Jason's brow furrowed in confusion; all he heard was the sound of ringing on the other end. After three rings there was a soft click as the connection was made.

"Agent Scott."

Fuck.

"I apologize profusely for the rude awakening. Welcome to ERECA."

The voice made his blood run cold. It wasn't anyone he recognized, but he knew the tone anywhere. Whoever this was, they were very much in control of this whole operation; and what was more, they were convinced that they already held all the cards. And the calm, almost cheerful way they spoke to him showed that they weren't afraid to gloat about it.

When Jason had been a Ranger, he had often slipped into a state of mind his friends referred to either as "Leader Mode" or the more imposing – and his preference – "Warrior Mode" – when a situation went downhill. He had never really been able to do it deliberately; to him, it had just happened. One second he was just an ordinary guy, the next he became a battle-hardened soldier in the body of a teenager. It was a feeling he still remembered all too well from his youth, but it had only happened once or twice since he'd joined the FBI.

It happened now. Jason practically felt his spine stiffen, fists clench, his heartbeat slow. There was a sudden surge of energy from somewhere in his head – the fire – and he shoved it aside with only a faint throbbing to show for it. His face darkened. He set his jaw. Finally, he spoke.

"Where the fuck is Billy?" It had taken far longer for him to notice his friend's absence than it should have. Even as he spoke, he kicked himself mentally for not seeing that sooner. "And who the hell are you?" Even he was amazed at the sound of his voice. He'd meant to speak calmly, almost softly, but with an unmistakable firmness; what came out was nearly a growl.

"Dr. Cranston is fine. He and I just needed to have a little chat while we got you situated."

He rolled his eyes at that. "Situated." I hate this shithead already. But the voice was still talking.

"As for who I am?" There was a long pause. All Jason could do was wait, though he couldn't deny that the investigator in him was incredibly intrigued. "Don't worry about that for now. You and I will be meeting in person in the very near future. In fact I'm very much looking forward to it." There was another click as the connection was severed. Jason let his head flop back against the stiff board he'd been strapped to and sighed in frustration.

He was trapped, tied down, held at gunpoint, and separated from Billy who knew how many floors underground inside a top-secret government facility in the middle of the goddamn desert. And somebody here knew who he was.

Jason groaned. "Spectacular."


It was about another twenty minutes before the door to the small room where Jason was tied up opened. Five more men in the same SWAT gear as the three in front of him spilled into the room like liquid into a glass. Jason craned his neck to try and see better, but the strap against his forehead kept him from turning his head more than a few degrees. He had to settle for straining his eyes to the right as hard as he could; even then, half of his field of vision was just fuzzy shapes in his peripheral.

The doorway was empty for several seconds. Jason peered sidelong into the hallway until his eyes started to water, but he couldn't make out anything except the blurry impression of another door on the opposite wall and a dull gray carpet. Grunting in frustration, the former Ranger jerked his head back to face forward and blinked several times, trying to relieve the soreness in his eyes.

A gasp from the doorway snapped his gaze back to the side. Billy stood in the doorway, his eyes growing wide, a mahogany box about the size of a cinder block clasped in his hands. Jason frowned in surprise; he was about to ask what had happened to him when he suddenly noticed the gentle glint of silver from Billy's wrists.

"Oh, shit," Jason whispered, following Billy with his eyes as his friend moved to stand in front of him. The former Blue Ranger now sported a pair of thick, gleaming handcuffs, clasped so tightly around his wrists that Jason could see his hands starting to pale. Another man entered behind Billy, kicking the door shut behind him as he did so. He wore a set of military fatigues, the insignia on the shoulders identifying him as a general. As Jason watched, he raised the handgun he held in his right hand and leveled it at Billy, tucking his left hand into his pocket as he moved to join the young scientist in front of Jason.

"Hey, Bill," Jason said, trying to sound casual. "Who's your friend?"

The man in the fatigues cracked a half-smile at Jason's attempt at levity. "Peter Blaylock, US Army," he said with a nod at Jason. "I believe we spoke on the phone earlier."

"Oh, right," Jason said with a half-smile of his own. "You're the guy with the twenty-foot pole up his ass. You know you might want to consider seeing someone about that."

"Jason!" Billy hissed, his face somehow losing more of its color. Jason ignored him completely and stared Blaylock dead in the eye.

The general himself just laughed. "I knew I liked you, Mr. Scott. I would shake your hand, but you see I'm a righty, and my good shaking hand is a little preoccupied with threatening your friend's life right now. And yours is…well…" he smirked. "A little tied up at the moment."

"That's Special Agent Scott to you," Jason said with a mock tone of indignation that under any other circumstances could almost have passed as playful. He cocked his head to one side as best he could while tied down. "Though I guess you knew that already."

Blaylock just grinned. "I know far more than that, Agent Scott." He stopped suddenly, glancing at Billy. "You know all this formality is far too stuffy for me." He turned back to Jason. "I'm so used to 'Yes, sir' and 'No, sir' and 'General blah blah blah…' I'm sure you get that a lot at the FBI. We're all friends here, right? Can I just call you Jason?"

"If I can call you Asshole," Jason muttered, glaring off to one side.

Blaylock shrugged. "Ah, well. Worth a shot." He turned back to Billy and prodded his upper arm with the barrel of the gun. "Now, Doc, don't you think your friend here," he gestured toward Jason with his head. "Ought to be brought up to speed on what we've been talking about?" Billy's head whipped around to gape at Blaylock, his eyes narrowing with confusion.

"Actually, Billy," Jason grunted, squirming a little under the thick straps. "If you don't mind, I think first I'd like to know how the hell I got down here in the first place. The last thing I remember is being in in your car."

"An excellent question, Agent Scott!" Blaylock looked like he was on the verge of dissolving into giggles at that point. "All the reports I got said the doc here came in with someone who was already unconscious. I must say I wondered about that myself. Doc?"

Both men turned and regarded Billy, who opened and closed his mouth several times and readjusted his grip on the box in his arms. When he finally spoke, it was into the box's lid.

"I, um…" Billy mumbled. He cleared his throat. "I was afraid you were going to put up too much of a fight and I really needed to get you in here so I, uh…" he looked up at Jason, his face riddled with guilt. Jason felt his mouth go dry.

"You drugged me?" His voice was so low it was almost a whisper. Billy's eyes went everywhere around the room except his friend's face. Jason let out a chuckle of disbelief and ran his tongue over his lips. "With what?"

Billy winced. "General," he said softly, inclining his head to one side. "If you don't mind, there's a hypodermic needle in my front pocket."

"Much as I'd love having my hand that close to your crotch, Cranston," Blaylock said. "I have people for that." He snapped his fingers and one of the men in body armor stepped forward and roughly shoved his hand into Billy's pocket. Jason couldn't see what he'd pulled out until he handed it to Blaylock, who held it up like some kind of sacred artifact and examined it in awe. He lowered his gaze back to the room. "What's in here?"

Billy started to answer, but Blaylock cut him off by jabbing the barrel of the gun against his shoulder. "Not you." He motioned to one of the doctors in the corner. "You! Get over here, make yourself useful." The man in the lab coat hesitantly made his way over and took the syringe from Blaylock, examining the liquid inside.

"Sir, you can't identify most of these things just by looking at them. Without a label on the syringe the only person who would know what this is is…" the man turned to Billy.

"It's just a sedative," Billy said, looking at the floor again. Blaylock tapped him with the gun again.

"You want to maybe be a little more specific?"

Billy leaned forward and said something quietly to the man in the lab coat, who took a step back and glanced frantically between Billy and Jason. "And you gave him how much?"

"I have another of these syringes in my car," Billy replied. "I gave him the whole thing."

"Jesus Christ!" The other doctor gaped at Billy in shock. He turned and stared at Jason. "You should be dead, man. Someone up there must really like you."

"Oh, yeah," Jason grumbled, tugging gently at the restraints around his hands. "I really hit the fucking jackpot today!" He turned to glare at Billy. "What the hell were you thinking? Was this your plan the whole time, drive me up to the front gate and then if I'm too nosy you fucking roofie me?" His face softened the tiniest amount – most people wouldn't even have noticed, but most people didn't know Jason as well as Billy – so that there was just the smallest hint of pain behind his next words. "This whole thing was your idea and I went along with it because I thought you had my back, I…" he sighed and swallowed. "I trusted you."

"Jason, I'm sorry." Billy could hardly even talk at this point. "I didn't know any of this was going to happen, I thought this was the only way to help you, and you were being so, well…you. If you had kept asking all those questions, I…" he sighed and shook his head. "I didn't think I would be able to take care of you."

"As touching as all of this is," Blaylock cut in, eliciting a glare from Jason. "I think the doc's apology may have been a touch premature." He nudged Billy with his shoulder. "I think it's time we fill Agent Scott here in on our little arrangement."

"Arrangement?" Jason glanced back and forth from one of the men in front of him to the other. "Billy, what is he talking about – wait." Jason's gaze was drawn to the box Billy still held. "Not to go all Fincher on you, but…what's in the box?"

"All in good time, Agent," Blaylock said dismissively, still looking at Billy. "Well, Doc? We're waiting."

Billy cleared his throat and managed to look up at Jason, who still regarded him with a hint of contempt. "Over the last couple days, I've been, uh…" he glanced nervously at Blaylock's gun. "Poking my nose where it didn't belong. Looking through classified files, asking questions…I even hacked into the general's private server." Jason couldn't help but smirk. Billy continued, his confidence boosted a little. "The short version is, he figured it out and when we got here, he was waiting for us. They took you down here and he and I went back to my lab." Billy swallowed and tried to get his heart rate down. "I knew this was your last shot and I needed him to let me use the equipment we have here so…"

"So you agreed to give him whatever's in that box in exchange for helping me?" Jason finished for him. "And where exactly do I get a say in this deal?"

"If you'd had a say we wouldn't be here right now in the first place!" Billy only realized what he'd said after it was already out. Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Kinda making my point for me there, Bill."

"In his defense," Blaylock said with a laugh. "The doc here had kept this thing very well hidden. Think secret panels, elaborate security protocols, the works. And if I remember correctly," he turned back to Billy. "You let something slip about how there were times you didn't even keep this here." He glanced sidelong at Jason. "I think he likes to take work home with him."

Jason growled. "What's in there, Billy?"

Billy's fingers tapped nervously on the wood of the box. His mouth worked soundlessly around words that wouldn't come out until eventually Blaylock stepped in.

"All right, I'll tell him." He grinned at Jason again, and Jason felt his hands curl into fists and strain harder against the straps. "You're gonna love this. Your friend here," he tapped the top of the box as he spoke. "Tells me that in this box he has blood samples from the first eleven Power Rangers from ten years ago. And apparently, they were human!" Blaylock's grin was so wide Jason thought his face might crack in half. He turned to Billy, his eyes wide with shock. The former Ranger was so taken aback by this revelation that he couldn't even verbalize what he was thinking right now.

"OK, you told him," Billy said abruptly, jarring Jason out of his reverie. "Now what about our deal? I still need to use that equipment."

"You know what, doc? You're right," Blaylock said. He stepped back and spoke to the room. "Gentlemen, take Dr. Cranston here back to his lab. Make sure he stays there," he added as the five men he'd come in with half-dragged Billy toward the door. "And you two," he called the two doctors over. "Get whoever else you need; Agent Scott here will be taken through the full Manchurian Project protocols."

"Hey!" Billy shouted from the doorway. "That was not the deal!" Two of the men grabbed him and yanked him toward the doorway, the former Blue Ranger struggling against their hands and nearly dropping the box. "General! This is not what we agreed to, you can't do this!" It took three of the heavily armored men to drag Billy out into the hallway.

"Sorry, Doc, but it's like I said before," Blaylock said calmly, holstering his weapon and handing the syringe to one of the doctors. "I'm the one calling the shots around here. Consider this me calling an audible."

"General, you can't do this! You can't keep him here, let him go!" Billy's shouts echoed down the hallway until they finally faded out of earshot. Jason turned to face the general, fighting to stay calm.

"Look, pal, I don't know what you think you're gonna do here, but I guarantee you if you fuck with me you're gonna live to regret it."

Blaylock sneered at him derisively. "You don't appear to be in any position to make threats, Agent Scott. I suggest in the future you choose your friends," he punctuated the word by gesturing at the door, "a little more carefully." He strode over until he stood right in front of Jason, their faces mere inches apart. "And believe me when I tell you, the next time we meet, you and I are gonna get along much better." Jason's stomach dropped. He'd heard that line from far too many villains in his youth to not know where this was heading.

Christ, not this shit again. I have a bad feeling I know where this is going. He glared into Blaylock's face as defiantly as he could. "Go fuck yourself."

Blaylock just chuckled and patted Jason's cheek. "I look forward to our meeting under more…cordial circumstances." He looked at the doctors. "Cranston said he used a whole syringe of that shit on him and he woke up fine. Give him that one before you get started." With that, the general simply turned and practically skipped out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. As the two doctors advanced toward him, one brandishing the syringe, Jason let his head flop back against the board. He sighed, a chill going through him as he nervously watched them approach.

"God damn it, Billy," he muttered softly. "What the fuck did you do?"