Teams
His breath was coming in short hitches, hurting his throat. Damn he should jog more often, maybe use that cross trainer he´d parked in his office, at least once in a while. They only ran a few streets and he felt like totally whacked. Finally they reached the last corner and there it was. The big bunch of police cars and rubberneckers, all gathered around a bank, lights flashing around in blue and red, illuminating the early night.
Someone was trying to negotiate with the bank robbers via megaphone but Shawn didn´t understand the words. He was leaning on his knees, only hearing his own panting, and the beating of his heart in his ears.
"Dude." he breathed. "That´s a mess."
Sylar looked at him, asking.
"I was in a hostage situation like that once." he explained, his breath slowly coming back to him. He shook his head. "That´s not good. What is this Parkman dude thinking?"
"He wants them to get caught." Sylar growled. "That´s what he´s thinking. He couldn´t get Nathan, so he decided to get them instead. That´s his way of facing an army all on his own. He just forgot to consider a hostage situation. Not to mention a shootout with the police, these guys will start as soon as one of them loses his nerves."
Shawn´s head started to clear, after he could use his lungs in a proper way again. He straightened up, wiping some sweat off his face, and remembered something. Something he´d noticed back in the hotel suite. It had seemed odd back then, but now, considering what Sylar´d just said, it suddenly made sense. In some way.
"I don´t think this is gonna happen." he commented Sylar´s last sentence.
The killer turned around to him, startled. "Why not?"
"Because their guns are not loaded."
"What?" Sylar cried in disbelieve but reconsidered, only a second later. "Are you sure?"
"Trust me."
It was all Shawn needed to say. God, he wished Lassie would listen to him in a way like Sylar did it now. His gaze was thoughtful but he nodded, simply accepting what Shawn had said.
"All right." he murmured, turning back to the scene before them. "But the police doesn´t know that. As soon as they see a gun, they´ll shoot."
"Yeah." Shawn nodded, regarding that half circle of police cars on the street. "Don´t worry, I got this." he said and walked straight up to the scene, ignoring Sylar´s cries for him to stop. As well as the barricades that were meant to keep the rubberneckers at distance. His target was the man with the megaphone.
"Excuse me, sir."
The cop swirled around, staring at him in disbelieve.
"What are you doing here?" he barked. "Go back behind the barriers."
"I´m afraid I can´t do that." Shawn replied. "And you´ll want to hear what I have to say. That these guys in there are completely and totally without ammo."
For a moment the man before him stared at him, flabbergasted, his mouth open.
"And how do you know that?" he demanded to know.
"Because I´m a psychic." Shawn brought his hand to his temple. "Shawn Spencer. I occasionally work for the S.B.P.D. so you surely heard of me."
"S.B.?" the cop repeated. "Where´s that supposed to be?"
Shawn chuckled, looking around in disbelieve. "What, are you kidding me? Where do you guys live?"
"It´s Santa Barbara." Sylar answered the detective´s question. "We´re in Washington, Shawn, remember?"
Shawn´s mouth dropped open, recalling this detail. Right. How did he forget that?
The detective regarded them warily.
"California, huh?" he asked. "And you´re here why?"
"Doesn´t matter." Sylar replied before Shawn could even open his mouth. "What matters is that you should listen to him, because he knows what he´s talking about. So you can either keep this charade up, until your men and theirs goad each other to the point when someone just snaps and starts a bloodbath … or you do the right thing and end this, before it gets out of hand. It´s your choice."
Shawn stood between the two men and didn´t know what to do, other than to point at Sylar, silently supporting his words.
The detective looked back and forth between them for a moment, clearly intimidated by Sylar´s speech, uncertainty glistening in his eyes. At last he faced Shawn again.
"How sure are you about this?" he wanted to know.
"Absolutely." Shawn´s face was dead serious. "It is as if I´d seen their ammo, where they´d left it."
The detective was still unsure, Shawn could tell, but facing both, his and Sylar´s serious gazes, he gave in at last, nodding hesitantly.
"Okay." he said, reaching into his car to take his radio. "Everybody, this is Anderson." he called in, never leaving the two of them out of his eyes. "I just got the word that our culprits are without ammunition. Unconfirmed though. Over." He took the radio down. "That´s the best I can do." he said. "Now step back behind the barrier." After a moment of silence, he added firmly: "Please."
"Let´s go, Shawn." Sylar spoke. "We did everything we could." He gave the detective one last, demanding glare, before turning his head, demonstratively regarding the crowd all around them. "It´s in your hands."
After that he just walked off. Shawn followed him.
"Shouldn´t we do some more?" he asked. "I mean …"
"No." Sylar talked over him, looking back at the bank with gloomy eyes. "I´m sure Parkman programmed them to give up without a fight."
Shawn blinked. "You know that guy pretty well, do you?" he found with some surprise.
Sylar shrugged. "I spent some time in his head. You learn to know someone after a while." When he noticed Shawn´s raised brows, he smiled. "Long story."
Shawn simply nodded, even though he understood not the first thing of what he´d just heard. Eventually he decided to skip this and shook his head.
"I´m still not getting it. Where is he? Did he go after Nathan and Shana?"
"Possible." Sylar´s brow was furrowed. "But that also means that they´re not going to come back to the hotel. That means we have no idea how to go on."
Shawn watched him think in silence for a while, his eyes dark and near to frustration once again.
"Maybe we find something in their rooms that tells us where they went." Shawn suggested.
After a second of consideration, Sylar nodded.
...
Gus found Mohinder on Henry´s veranda, standing in silence, looking out, a deep frown on his forehead. Wherever he was in his thoughts it must have been far away. He didn´t notice Gus´ approach until he was right in front of him.
"Gus." he exhaled, jumping every so slightly.
"Dr. Suresh." Gus climbed up to the veranda. "I need your help. Shawn and Sylar. They snuck out."
"What?"
"I checked Shawn´s place and they´re not there. I have no idea where to look for them. We need Molly to tell us where they are before Shawn gets himself into trouble that gets him killed."
"Slow down, Gus." Mohinder said. "Take a breath inbetween. Did you try to call him on his cell phone?"
Gus raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you think?" he blurred. "He didn´t take it with him. It lies on his bureau."
Suresh didn´t answer him, only took his own cell phone out of his pocket.
"What are you doing?" Gus asked, bewildered and Mohinder shot him a glance.
"I´m calling Sylar."
...
In the FBI headquarter, Mary Lightly peeked around a corner, down the hallway where the holding cells were. A guard was posted there, looking bored but very awake. Another person peeked over Mary´s shoulder, briefly, before she retrieved, hiding again.
"It´s just the one guy." Mary told his colleague. "Shouldn´t be too hard for you."
The female agent sighed. "And you´re sure about this?"
"Believe me." Mary said, with his most intense gaze. "I´m sure there is a reason for all of this. I just don´t know which. That´s something Mr. Petrelli will have to tell me."
She held his gaze, thoughtfully. Eventually she nodded. "Okay."
"I´ll buy you a coffee later." Mary promised.
"Forget it." was all she replied, not even looking at him. Her posture was tensed, regarding the fact that she was in the process of violating the protocol. "Just … forget that I was ever involved in this." she stated, her hands clinging to the files she carried. "Because if they catch you, I´ll deny everything."
Mary simply shrugged. "That´s fine by me."
"Good." she nodded and took another breath, before making her way down the hallway.
Mary watched her go. He saw her smiling at the man guarding the cell and how she pretended to trip over something, spilling all her papers over the floor. It really looked convincing.
The guard immediately bowed down along with her.
"Here, let me help you." he said and started to gather up the papers.
"God, this is so stupid." she breathed, as if honestly embarrassed. "I mean … I didn´t even trip over anything, did I?"
"Can happen." the man replied with a shrug.
What was that, Mary wondered, that women were able to lie so convincingly, right into the face of a man they didn´t even know? He waited a little longer, until the guard had turned his bowed back to the door, fishing for a stubborn paper, and then quickly slipped through the door, to the holding cells. If his accomplice even saw him, she didn´t let it show.
Behind the door it was dark. The light fell in through the small window, but that was pretty much it. Of course, there was no need for light in here. First, it was night time and second, the only prisoner was sedated and slept anyway, if he wanted or not.
Mary silently opened the cell and snuck in, closing the door behind himself. He quickly turned off the IV that stood next to the sleeping man and then he waited. A minute. Two.
Eventually he bowed down and shook Peter. No reaction.
Mary straightened his back again. He reached into his inner pocket, producing a small bottle of water. He opened it and drenched his hand with the water, before snipping his fingers, sprinkling drops of water into Peter´s face. Once, twice. He wet his hand again and repeated the action.
At last Peter squinted against the sensation, grunting. When he opened his eyes he flinched.
"What …?"
"Shhhhhhhhhhh." Mary held his finger before his own mouth, his eyes never leaving Peter´s. The young man pressed himself into the mattress, as if Mary had threatened him with a gun. "The guard´s still outside the door." he told him. "We must be quiet."
"You … You´re Mary, right?" Peter found his voice again. "I remember you."
"And so did I, Mr. Petrelli." the profiler nodded, sitting down on the edge of the cot. "I figured it would be a good idea to hear your part of the story."
Peter struggled up to his elbows. "Where´s my brother?" he demanded to know.
"I have no idea. He and Miss Stockwell left around seven, heading for their hotel stay. If they ever really got there is beyond my knowledge. But I could find out, of course."
"My brother is not himself." Peter hissed urgently. "Matt Parkman manipulated him, to believe what Shana told him. He´s a mind controller. This whole conspiracy is nothing but a charade in order to get to the President."
"To do what exactly?"
"To kill him. I need to get out of here. I need to get to my brother, to convince him about the mistakes he made. That all this is a lie. What´s that hotel he´s supposed to stay at?"
"The Royal Inn." Mary told him. "But how are you planing to get there? The door is guarded."
"I don´t need the door." Peter stood up, swaying a little. "Thanks for your help, Mary." he said when he´d overcome the dizziness. "I need to go now."
Mary guessed what would come next and when Peter shut his eyes, he lay a hand on his arm. For a moment he felt misplaced, as if he wasn´t even part of the structure of this universe anymore. And then the damp air of the holding cell was gone and he felt the fresh, slightly wet air on his face. He turned his head and found himself standing in an allay, across the street from the Royal Inn.
"What …?" Peter yanked his arm away from him. "What are you doing?"
"Really amazing." Mary exclaimed, oblivious to the younger man´s reaction.
"Why did you do this?" Peter cried.
"I might be able to help you, Mr. Petrelli."
"Those guys we´re dealing with are dangerous. They´re armed."
Mary smiled at him solemnly. "I might be a profiler, Peter, but I had shooting lessons too." he told him. "Don´t worry about me."
Peter looked at him, one brow raised. "Do you even carry a gun, Mary?" he asked. When he didn´t get an answer, he merely sighed in exasperation. "Fine." he growled, giving it up. "Come on."
...
They were right in the middle of searching the hotel suite, when Sylar´s cell phone started to ring. He took it out, checking the display. When he read the name on it, he answered the call immediately, turning his back to Shawn, as if ashamed.
"Mohinder."
"Sylar." came the harsh reply. "Where are you?"
The killer threw an uncertain glance at Shawn. "Why do you ask?"
"Don´t play games with me." Mohinder hissed. "I know you´re not at Shawn´s place anymore. Is he with you?"
Again Sylar met Shawn´s gaze. "Yes, he is with me."
"And where are you two?" Mohinder demanded to know.
"Dude, don´t tell him." Shawn hissed, knowing exactly what this was about. "We´re on a secret mission."
"I´m not gonna lie to him." Sylar objected, holding the phone to his chest.
"Since when?"
"You told me to be honest."
"Yes, but you can start with that tomorrow. Dammit."
Sylar just gave him a face and turned back to the phone. "We´re in Washington, Mohinder."
Shawn cursed, silently.
"What are you doing there?" the geneticist demanded to know.
"We had a feeling that Matt might need help." Sylar told him. "And it turned out we were right."
For a moment it was silent on the other end and Sylar just knew that Mohinder had paled at this.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It seems when Matt tried to get to Nathan, he was already gone." Sylar summarized for him. "He and Shana left the hotel some hours ago. Matt sent Shana´s men out to turn themselves in over … a few corners. At this point we have no idea where Matt went after that. Or where Shana took Nathan." He halted in the middle of his speech, suddenly realizing something. "But I might have an idea where." he mumbled, more to himself than to Mohinder.
"Where?" Shawn and Mohinder ask him simultaneously, but in this moment, all Sylar could hear was a voice that he only remembered. It was Bennet who spoke the words, only a few hours ago.
"No one gets near the President just like this. Not even a recently resurrected senator."
"Although that fact should speed up the usual procedure quiet a bit."
Sylar felt how a smile graced his own lips. "Lassiter was absolutely right." he breathed, shaking his head. "This story might indeed shorten the process of being received in audience."
Shawn stared at him and only a second later he understood.
"Dude." he cried excited, speaking quietly, as if afraid someone would listen in. "They´re heading for the White House." he hissed, his words almost inaudible towards the end of his sentence. "That´s where they go. They´re gonna do it tonight." He gestured around wildly in his excitement. "They´re probably at it right in this moment, we need to get there. Now."
"What did he say?" Sylar heard Mohiner ask over the phone.
"I´m sorry, Mohinder, but I gotta go." he said and hung up, facing Shawn. "You know what´s going to happen if we go there and we´re wrong." he told him.
"Oh, they are there." Shawn insisted. "Believe me. I just know it."
Sylar didn´t question this any longer, just nodded.
"All right. Kill the lights."
...
"Wait! Sylar?" Mohinder cried into his cell phone but the connection was gone. "Dammit." he cursed.
"What did he say?" a voice asked behind him. Not Gus.
Mohinder swirled around. Bennet and Lassiter were standing at the corner of Henry Spencer´s veranda, looking at them from out of the shadow.
"Where did you come from?" Mohinder demanded to know.
Bennet threw a glance at Gus. "We were watching him."
"Watching me?" the young man cried scandalized.
"While you were watching Shawn." Bennet nodded. "Seems we had the same idea." He turned back to Mohinder, asking: "Where are they?"
"I bet they´re in Washington." Lassiter blurred out, before Mohinder could say it. "That´s as ridiculous as Spencer could get." He looked at Mohinder. "Am I right?"
Mohinder nodded.
"What?" Gus cried in disbelieve. "How did they get there?"
"The same way Sylar and I got to L.A." Mohinder told him. "And this ability will also bring them to the White House. Shawn seems to believe Shana and Nathan will try to assassinate the President tonight."
Lassiter huffed in annoyance. "Idiot."
"We need to get there too." Bennet decided. "We need to stop them. Before they reach the President."
A third person suddenly stepped out of the dark, from behind Lassiter.
"Who do you mean with they?" Juliet demanded to know, startling Lassiter into a jump.
"O´Hara, where the hell did you just come from?" he cried.
"I´m your partner, Carlton." she informed him. "I know when you´re up to something." She faced Bennet with demanding eyes. "Answer my question. Who do you want to stop?"
The face Noah gave her was unreadable. "Whoever might try to kill the President."
"You think Sylar will try that, don´t you?" she guessed rightly, crossing her arms. "Why? What makes you think he had a reason to do that?"
"He tried to become President before." Noah answered, unimpressed by her interrogation. "That´s why he killed Nathan three years ago."
"That was three years ago." she held against it.
"Not anymore." Mohinder spoke up, making her turn around to him, startled. "In the timeline we saw, Sylar´d made it to presidency." he told her. "He remembers that too."
"And he might want to get back what he lost." Bennet nodded in agreement, approvingly.
"Shawn is with him." Juliet recalled after a moment of uncertainty. "He won´t allow that."
Bennet threw her a doubting gaze. "You really think he would stand a chance against Sylar?"
This time Juliet did not give a response, even cringed a little under Bennet´s stare.
Mohinder gulped dryly, nodding when Bennet faced him again.
"I go and wake Hiro."
...
The room was relatively small, nobly decorated with furniture that looked as expensive as they looked colonial. A laptop was left on the table but other than that there was barely anything in this place that looked as if it belonged to the 21st century. Shawn looked around in surprise.
"Dude. Where are we?" he asked. "I thought we wanted to get into the White House."
"We are in the White House." Sylar informed him, making his way over to the door.
"Seriously?" Shawn looked around, once again. "I thought it would be … you know … a little bigger."
Sylar only smiled and opened the door, only a creek, to peek out into the corridor. "The real big rooms are out there." he whispered. "But so is the security."
Shawn joined him at the door, peeking through the space between the door and Sylar´s shoulder.
"What do we do?" he whispered.
"Wait here." Sylar ordered, without even looking at him. "I´ll get us something that´ll help us walk around here more freely."
"Like what?"
"The face of a secret service agent." Sylar answered confidently. "I´ll put one of them to sleep and borrow his face. After that I come back and get you. Do me a favor and stay put this time. If they see you, they´ll shoot you."
Shawn snorted, quietly. "I worked for the President for three years." he recalled. "You don´t need to tell me how paranoid some of these guys react." And on the spur of the moment he added, conversationally: "Did you know I took the secret service exam?"
Sylar tilted his head back, frowning at him. "You did?" When Shawn nodded proudly, he shook his head. "Where did you get the codes to log in to the FBI database?" he wanted to know. "These tests are classified."
Shawn only shrugged. "You didn´t cover your hands very well the other day." he said. "Or should I say … President Petrelli didn´t cover his hands very well?"
Sylar raised a brow at this comment, catching the hint immediately, and turned back to the door. Halfway through the motion, he halted though, frowning, remembering.
"That´s how you found Tobias Mason." he realized, turning back to Shawn in disbelieve.
Shawn smiled proudly, nodding eagerly to affirm the guess. „Just … don´t tell anyone." he begged, making the killer and one-time-President smile at him.
"Don´t worry." he promised.
Shawn blinked. "Dude, this is kinda weird." he found. "That we´re talking about a lifetime that never happened."
"Yeah." Sylar agreed. "But that could actually help us."
"How so?"
"You think those entry codes are still in work?" and to underline his words, he pointed at the laptop on the table behind Shawn. "Have a look at this." he suggested. "Try it and if it works, see if senator Petrelli is already in the building."
"Check." Shawn´s heartbeat sped up when he hurried over to the laptop and opened it. "I saw something like that on 24 once." he told Sylar excitedly. "I know how to do that. I watched Chloe do that maybe a dozen times."
Once again Sylar smiled at his excitement, nodding approvingly. He opened the door a little more, checking the perimeter again.
"I´m back in a few." he said and slipped out.
Shawn didn´t even look after him. He was totally consumed with the hacker attack he was in the process of performing. Oh, he just wished Gus could see him now.