“Right behind you, boss.” There would be no getting naked while he was conscious. “I just need a second.”
And a second was all he had. His lead was getting away.
“Dude.” Gary was still facing the wall and his voice was muffled by it. “I couldn’t see a thing that happened, but it sounded super hot.”
“Don’t make me tell Diana,” Jason muttered. “You remember what I said? About keeping this to yourself?”
“My lips are sealed, bro!”
“Until you find a pork roast.” And before he could take off to find one – that was no exaggeration; Gary had immediately started looking for a kitchen – Jason stopped him and said, “Stay here. Please. I don’t need you running around, too.”
“I can’t watch the box thing?”
The ‘box thing’ would be joining the other four in that room. How they were going to get it up here was beyond him, but he hoped it didn’t involve manual labour. The Agency was more than advanced enough to manage some kind of system, but it was right up their alley to have a score of A-9s cart the thing up on their backs. Whatever built character, they said, and it was fantastic cardio.
He’d pass.
“No. Wait here.”
“But –”
He caught up in record time – before she’d even left the stairs – and he dutifully waited at her side, minus the distance he’d put between them that his sanity demanded he keep in place, while she handled the signing off. She’d been right before: where was Benoit? With the way he went on and on about how great Alexander – both of them – was, Jason had assumed he’d’ve been around to throw a fit over who’d been in charge of driving the truck. Then again, the Agency wasn’t known to make mistakes when it signing personnel. Maybe he was the Eric of the delivery division and he only seemed incompetent. Jason supposed it didn’t matter so long as the cell was here in one piece. Speaking of which, it was about time they got a look at the damn thing.
... His lead was glaring. Of course. And he almost made the mistake of trying to say something to break the heated silence, but she took off towards the elevators without a word. Well, on the bright side, at least she wasn’t making this ‘awkward’. This was obviously and clearly all in his head, and he wasn’t going to push it. If she wanted to keep quiet and try to wait an answer out of him, he was all for her trying, because patience was his greatest strength and his added motivation of never wanting to speak of their ‘conversation’ again, at this rate, he’d be happily taking it to his grave. The ball was in her court but he wasn’t playing so... there. He’d ignore her. He’d ignore it. He was almost delighted they had the delivery to deal with because it’d give them something different to think about until he could get her to drop it entirely.
The elevator ride down was very quiet. It was longer too, but that was because they were going deeper than the parking lot. Thanks to the Agency and their unique packages, they couldn’t afford a passer-by to peek into their garage and see what the good people of their Charlton base were up to. It wasn’t so much farther but it was certainly out of prying eyes. Unfortunately, it was exactly as red as the rest of the dying office.
The loading bay was as bare save for the few scattered columns left to hold the ceiling up. As they walked into the orange glow, which felt colder than it should have this time of year, they heard the faint rumble of an engine overhead. The sound was having a field day with all this space to roam in; it bounced and echoed and carried through the floor, and as it got louder and they saw the truck’s headlights rolling down the ramp on the far side, Jason’s eyes went to work on the smaller details and picked out the cloud of smoke not far from where they were. An ally. Finally. He had no idea what was going on with Frenchie and that A-2, but if Eric was happy with it, how pleasant could it have been? There was someone to sympathize with what he was going through instead of laughing like he’d been on the plane.
Maybe he shouldn’t have rushed to join him, but his lead was plenty offended with his not-naked as it was.
“We didn’t think you’d be here,” Jason said.
“This is my case.” And a very neutral breath added still more smoke to the pile. “Miss Agent, I take it you signed the forms. My thanks. It saves me a trip.”
The floor had been marked, he realized. There were different coloured squares – large ones – in the different corners. The one the truck had pulled to seemed green, although it was hard to tell in this light, and it was closer to the centre of the room than any of the others. It drove across but stopped its back wheels on its far edge, then slowly unfurled a ramp in the middle of the maybe-green shape. It took its time, as if it was somehow afraid of hurting the cement, and nothing else happened until three others hopped out of the back and stood around doing delivery things.
“How long is this going to take to set up?”
“It varies. Alexander-the-guest was kept in an older model. It works as fine as any other, but I imagine the size will add to the time.” He didn’t look concerned by it. “We have hours before they arrive.”
“Eric wants it done in twenty minutes,” Jason said. “He mentioned it five minutes ago.” Nine, actually, but who was counting?
“What Eric wants and what we can do rarely ever agree. He can wait. Or he can handle this himself.”
There was a heavy clatter. One of the delivery men said something Jason missed. This was immediately followed by a heavier clatter and a long, metallic whining. The door to the truck’s trailer had begun to rise at last, revealing another wall of metal behind it. That second wall was what began to move. Very slowly, it inched from its makeshift shelter, the top of the trailer splitting open to give it room to turn down and follow the ramp into the square. The delivery men stood watching as if their sheer willpower was what was helping it along. Instead, it was gravity, and a third, jarring, heart-pumping clank rang out as the metal box tilted down and slammed against the ramp. Its weight drove the edge into the ground and gouged it, but whatever gears had been moving the container held it firmly in their grip and went on easing the box gently into place.
Once again, Benoit should’ve been doing something about the care his cargo was getting. Jason didn’t know a lot about the transport of these things, but he was fairly sure it was supposed to be better than this. Instead, Frenchie was smirking into his cigarette, enjoying the little show.
“Shouldn’t you say something?”
“Like what?”
“Like...” Jason drew a blank. “What if they break it?”
“Break steel? By dropping it half a foot? Have some faith in your Agency’s technology.” He was still smirking. “So long as the cell is intact, I don’t care what they do with it.” This was the man who’d gotten touchy when Jason had implied Alexander was less than godlike. Now he was content to let that Agent’s original body get thrown around? “He’ll survive, but I doubt it matters in the end. My plan is to catch them while the reverse-transfer is underway, not after.”
There were a lot of questions about how that’d work or how the real Alexander would fare if it was interrupted, but Jason decided to focus on the part a tiny bit more relevant: “What happens after that? To the body?”
“I don’t care. Maybe I’ll kill him and give Eric a new soul to haunt.”
Everyone hated everyone – except for his lead, who exercised a very healthy obsession in screwing with Jason.
“I’m guessing you haven’t forgiven him for sabotaging you,” he said.
“There is that. But mostly, he’s a selfish prick.” Another clank. What the hell was going on over there? “Even his name spells ‘me’.”
Mystery solved. He’d been right, back in Elmira. There was no one else who smiled that proudly after killing somebody.
“So it’s Marshall Elias? Inside the real Alexander?” Frenchie’s silence said ‘yes’. “Ah. Well – that explains why it’s taken six years.”
“Mm.”
Jason was pretty glad none of this called for getting their old colleague back on his feet. He’d had his fill of that man back in training. He didn’t need a reunion.
And still another clank. This time, the gears groaned loudly and the metal box stuttered on the ramp. Before it looked as though it’d pull away and smash into the floor, however, they caught a hold of themselves and went back to work, fulfilling their duty at long last. The edge of the box had touched ground, even if the rest of it was on the ramp. Now the two of the three men who’d jumped out were securing tiny anchors to keep it from moving while the third was slowly directing the driver to move ahead. Painfully, with only a few sparks to go with it, the truck crawled away and pulled the ramp out from under the box. It slid off smoothly – about time they did one part of it with grace – and only the faintest thud was heard when it’d completely been unloaded. The first step was done. Step two was getting it up there.
“How –”
He didn’t have to ask. The answer came an instant later. From the ceiling, directly above the green square, a massive panel swirled open and four black claws, almost as big as trees, reached down and waited at the painted corners. The two men who’d secured the anchors now went to work attaching those claws to the box. Somewhere in there was a stasis cell, but it looked like it wouldn’t crack until it was up there with the other four. That meant Jason and his lead had to go all the way upstairs again. ... That meant another elevator ride.
“If you find Eric, tell him we made his stupid deadline,” Benoit said.
“You’re not taking the elevator?”
“Of sorts.” Frenchie threw his cigarette on the ground and strode towards that box. “Be sure to remind the German she has no reason to be involved with this.” And then he climbed on the box, gesturing to whoever was running those claws, and stood with a flawless balance as the whole contraption rose up and pulled itself through the closing panel. Whatever the A-2 was doing to him must’ve been brutal. Or maybe he had a ‘thing’ for travelling on stasis cells.
He was alone again. He was back with his lead. The delivery men – A-14s, probably – had no interest in sticking around now that their work was finished. They were already rolling up their ramp and getting the trailer’s door closed. In another minute, they’d be gone.
“Twenty minutes,” Jason said quickly, just to remind her Eric was waiting on them. “We should go up there. Now, I mean.”
And with clothes.
* * *
And I ask you: is there anything better than paranoia?
Was there something faster? His foot –
“Recons,” Xander told her, “do not fight.” It sounded like a fact, and he’d said it with a lagging note of condescension, like she was stupid for not knowing that already or for knowing and fighting anyway. More importantly, he said it as he was walking up to her, because Xander, as ungodly swell with pain as he was, had zero concern for Alex being... not. His foot – dammit – it felt like it was splitting along his ankle! There was no way that was just a broken toe – no way – and if it was, and if it still wasn’t quite full strength thanks to that teeny grip Xander hadn’t let go of yet, how the fuck was he supposed to handle it when he was on his own again? And that wasn’t going to happen for another few hours – the guy had plenty of time to make it a thousand times worse! He – “They get the suit because they’re so bad at it. The suit lets them stay out of the way and stick to the shadows so the real Agents can do their job. Your stunning inability to grasp this simple concept concerns me, but you got some brownie points with your ‘let’s blame it on the dead and save my ass’ stunt. It... pleases me.” He smiled serenely. “And it’s what got you a car ride instead of a bath. In fact, I think you owe Sparky a ‘thanks’ for pitying you! If death’s not in your immediate future, I’ll put you in her hands, and that, dear lady, is as close to a miracle as anyone in here gets.”
Hurry up.
One sec.
Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up –
“But you’ve got plenty of time for that.” Xander tapped the Agent on her nose, and the only thing that stopped him from throwing in a precious ‘boop!’ was the energy it’d take to move his mouth. “Right now? Nap-time!”
Finally!
Alex collapsed, causing almost as big a wave in the water as the Agent when she fell. That’d been quite the jolt – focused and direct – and she’d be out for... he was guessing it’d be as long as they needed to get to wherever the hell they were driving to. And he’d like to ask if Xander was sure that’d been a smart move and if he knew – one hundred percent knew – where that place in Charlton was, but his foot, holy fuck his foot holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck –
Deep breaths.
‘Deep breaths’? Alex could barely hyperventilate his way to air! His lungs were failing and his vision broke out into white and his leg locked up and sank to the floor –
... It’s gonna get a little worse.
“... ‘Worse’...” That was what he’d meant to say, anyway. His throat...
I just need ten minutes.
No.
You don’t exactly have a choice.
No, no, no!
I’m exhausted. I literally cannot hold on for more than fifteen seconds.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no –
Xander let go.
Breathe! Breathe – fucking breathe – do something –
You can pass out if you want, but don’t drown.
Alex blinked. Heavily. Deeply. For an instant longer than he’d wanted to, and when he opened his eyes, the pain...
He was lying in the water now and it was swishing around his ears. His entire body ached from the chill of it, and the shooting fire he got from his foot when it idly twitched did nothing to compensate the cold. His teeth felt weighty, like he’d been gritting them for a while, and the side of his head pulsed with agony in time to the beat of his heart. He could feel it everywhere. His gut was outlined by the pounding as his chest rose stiltedly to let air in. But, he noted, there was no new torture from his leg.
You passed out.
“... I –” His throat needed a minute. He gave it one, because he didn’t have a choice with that, either. “... I did...?”
Ten minutes, like I promised. Kept both these ladies waiting.
He was going to have to explain that, too. His entire life was an alibi and it was getting hard to keep track of.
“You...” Ten minutes. Was that all he needed? “You can... handle...?”
Yeah, I got it. And how long did he have it for? Don’t know. I’m gonna have to lay off again in the car.
Dandy.
He sat up. Even if there wasn’t any new pain, it didn’t make it comfortable. He wheezed despite his best effort not to, and for what felt like an eternity, he couldn’t bring himself to bend his wounded leg to stand. That was... Ya gotta do it. ... Okay.
“Osono,” he said, his voice sounding shallow and thin in his own ears, “I’m – uh... You’re going to have to drag... her... out there.” To the car. They were bringing her along. She’d have to sit in the trunk because there were only two seats in the Audi, but with ‘nap-time’ in effect, he’d bet comfort wasn’t going to be an issue. “Just... give me a minute to stand up.”
Or ten. Or twenty.
We have to get Gwen.
Fine. Two.
Alex forced his knee to play along as he did his best to put his weight on his good leg. It worked, mostly, but what didn’t managed to get a tremor through his spine. It was too bad he hadn’t landed closer to the wall, because that would’ve been nice to use to get up.
He wondered if he could get a wheelchair. Like – a rocket one. That’d be pretty cool.
Five bucks says we can score one off the Agents.
Heh. Yeah. Maybe.
“Alright.” Shit... He needed to start coming to terms with this being permanent. “Alright. I’m up. Let’s try to get out of here.”
Phase one: find the codes or the next best thing – complete. Phase two: find Gwen, put Xander back – coming up, and coming up fast.