Chapter Forty-Three

Heat

Uploaded on 10/14/07

Note: Fresh off the press! We just finished writing this thing within the last few hours. As always, we really, reallllly love to know what people think! Even if you just say 'still reading, I like it' we know that the story is still interesting and enjoyable. We're rapidly approaching the end of the book so we really want to know what people think. It's a lot of work to keep writing and it's especially encouraging to know it's appreciated. So a million hearts to all reviewers and several thousand to all readers ^^ And thanks to everyone who's stayed with us this far.

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-Ais ^^

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Boyd moved to the door of the hidden office, waiting a moment to make sure he didn't hear anything on the other side; only when he verified the silence did he open the door silently and glance out. The door opened into a hallway much like the others he'd been wandering through, but it was less glamorous which strengthened his belief that this was a hidden wing that could only be accessed by probably one or two ways and was not open to the general public or guests. He glanced up and down the corridor but no one was around and he didn't know how long it would take for more guards to appear so he didn't want to spend too much time just standing there. He slipped into the hallway, letting the door fall shut with a quiet click behind him and went in the direction that seemed most likely to eventually lead to an exit. He hadn't heard anything from Sin again so he wasn't certain if the place he'd found had in fact held Thierry; as he passed through the hallways he watched for any places that seemed suspicious or that may have further information he could bring back to the Agency.

With that in mind, when he found a staircase that headed down, he figured it couldn't hurt to check out. He hadn't heard or seen any other guards, but half the hallways in this wing seemed to be well-lit as opposed to the rest of the complex that had seemed shrouded in darkness which put him in a far more vulnerable position. On the other hand he was hoping he could pass himself off as a recruit guard just long enough to get away. If that didn't work, he didn't have any troubles improvising.

The next floor down appeared to have the same type of hallway. The rooms that he passed were all shut so he couldn't see what was inside without rattling the doorknobs, which was not a very intelligent idea. He passed through a variety of hallways without finding anything of interest or any doors that were open. He didn't hear anyone in the vicinity so he turned the corner and was halfway down the corridor when the scuffing of boots against the floor ahead of him caused him to freeze and look for some sort of cover. There wasn't even a single table in the hallway, though, and when he tried the nearest doors he found them to be locked. His heartbeat increased and he moved quickly to find somewhere to hide. The footsteps were just about to the corner when he finally found a room that was unlocked and he ducked into it quickly. He barely noted that it was dark inside the room and he listened intently through the door as the footsteps slowly approached his hiding place and, seeming to take longer than was necessary, finally passed by.

Some of the tension that had built inside him released; he listened through the door to verify the coast was clear and was just about to reach for the doorknob when the lights in the room suddenly flipped on. He automatically crouched and started to turn but before he could fully react, a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder and held him still. He froze and didn't struggle or attempt to get away immediately; he was already in a suspicious enough position and if he wanted to blend in or have some sort of believable story, then fighting would only take away much of his credibility. It would be better to gauge the situation and try an excuse first; if that didn't work, he could always resort to violence.

"Identify yourself," a voice commanded behind him; deep, resounding, and somehow familiar. He looked over immediately and found himself confronted by a solidly built, lightly tanned man whose presence resembled that of a bear. He was glowering down with sharp brown eyes while behind him a woman with light brown skin and deep black hair glared.

They seemed familiar to him but just before he placed where he knew them from, the woman's eyes widened as her expression changed from anger to surprise then immediately to deeper suspicion.

"Reed?" she demanded, walking closer with eyes narrowing as she studied him more closely. His heart leaped at the name, at the idea that someone recognized him, and he studied her closer. Her hair was held back in a messy bunch at the back of her neck and her sleeves were three-quarter-length, showing scars from what appeared to be a terrible burn that appeared to start under her shirt and extended down her left arm, disappearing beneath a black leather glove at her wrist.

He remembered abruptly who they were; Dana and Rick, two Janus agents who had been a part of the security team at the hotel during the days prior to the convention. When Boyd had been wandering around as Kadin Reed, he'd run into them several times and had even spent the first afternoon with the two playing cards while they'd waited for the rest of the representatives to arrive. They had been placed there to ensure the safety of the representatives before the convention and he hadn't seen them since he'd entered JKS. He didn't remember her burn scar from before; it must have been something that had occurred since they'd last seen each other, likely even in JKS itself when the bombs had exploded and fire had raged in the building.

This put him in a difficult position; if they hadn't known who he was, he could have made up any number of stories but since they recognized him as Kadin Reed, he'd have to be especially careful. He already didn't look the way "Kadin Reed" had at JKS; his hair was mostly blond now, his eyes the natural brown, and that alone cast further suspicion on who he was and what he was doing there. After all, Kadin Reed's natural hair color was red, his eyes blue; what the hell would he have changed both if not for suspicious reasons? Added to that, if he didn't act like Kadin, it would make it even more obvious that the Kadin they'd known had not been who he'd claimed.

That would negatively implicate 53 as possibly having sent a spy to the JKS, which would put the lives of everyone in 53 in danger of Janus' revenge. At the same time it would compromise the Agency's contact to Janus through them. Beyond that, any doubts that he was not actually Kadin Reed could potentially implicate the Agency, or make it more obvious that someone from an entity like the Agency was attempting to infiltrate the compound. That could have been because he'd taken out the real Kadin Reed and was pretending to impersonate him, which could also implicate 53 if Janus felt they were not strong enough to be in their regime, or that Kadin Reed had all along been a lie.

Since they knew him as Kadin even without the correct hair and eye color and after half a year's absence, they obviously weren't fooled by superficial changes. It actually surprised him that they recognized him, considering it had been so long ago that they'd met. He looked different now, and they'd only been around each other for a few days. The fact that they were such keen observers did not bode well for his chances at getting away from this smoothly either, but that just meant he had to put more effort into this.

"Dana," Boyd said after a moment, smiling at her lopsidedly like Kadin. He was trying to remember all the nuances of that man, the way he'd held himself, the intonation of his voice, and he found that it was all coming back to him more easily and quickly than he would have expected. He flicked his gaze up to Rick, who was staring down at him with an expression that was reserved but seemed displeased. He also had to be careful to say the sorts of things Kadin would say, even if he knew it would not necessarily be best for the situation. "Rick... It's been ages. How've you been?"

"Kadin Reed," Dana said slowly, walking around him while Rick's hand tightened painfully on his shoulder. Closer, he could see the burn extended partially up the left side of her neck as well as it wound its way up from beneath her shirt. and that she didn't seem to be moving her left arm very much. He felt her fingers trailing along his hair until she arrived in front of him again and she smiled pleasantly.

Rick suddenly slammed Boyd back against the wall so violently that he hit his head and didn't have a chance to react; he hadn't expected the large man to be so quick. Dana was immediately in his face, her good right arm pressing against his windpipe firm enough to be a definite threat but not quite hard enough yet to choke him. "I oughtta gut you right now you worthless sack of shit," she hissed furiously.

Boyd stared at her with wide eyes. "D-Dana?"

That only caused her eyes to narrow further, her lip lifting in a sneer. "I should rip out your intestines and choke you with them. How would you like that, traitor?" She pushed so hard against his throat at the last hissed word that he couldn't breathe; he tried to press himself against the wall to get away from her but that did nothing. He let his eyes widen further as he made a choking sound to show what she was doing; she only smiled at the sound, cold fury significantly darkening her eyes.

Boyd didn't struggle at first but she didn't seem ready to stop; he looked quickly at Rick, who was watching with an unreadable expression. He tensed, his vision starting to go dim on the edges as his heart pounded in automatic reaction to a threat on his life, and he knew he had to try to get away or she may not stop. He'd been nearly choked often enough or in similarly dangerous situations that he didn't necessarily feel fear at the threat but that also didn't mean he couldn't be killed by something as stupid as this if he didn't react quickly enough.

He kicked at her suddenly but she only pressed the length of her body against him to limit his movements; he could feel that she was wiry, almost entirely muscle, and that although she'd barely moved her left arm she still had enough strength in her right arm and body to cause him damage. He pushed at her arm on his throat but she only grinned, an entirely cruel look, and pressed harder.

He could feel his heart beating faster in a spike of fear now as black dots started to eat away at his vision, turning the mundane room into meaningless shapes. Other senses seemed strangely heightened and slowed down; the sound of her breath harsh near his face, the smell of her sweat and something coconut, probably shampoo or lotion she'd used earlier. He tensed further and felt his heart pounding furiously in his body, quickening his blood while adrenaline slipped into his system again. He realized he would have to get serious about this if he wanted to escape; she showed no signs of yielding any time soon.

Boyd was just tensing himself to violently shove her way and attack when Rick dropped his free hand onto Dana's right shoulder and said simply, "Dana."

She didn't seem to hear him at first so Rick pushed her lightly, a gentle rock that caught her attention. She blinked, glancing at him questioningly before returning her attention to Boyd again. His mouth was open as he tried to draw breath he his lips looked pale. She pulled away from him abruptly, stepping back and watching as he sagged against the wall and would have fallen forward if Rick's hand hadn't still been on his shoulder.

Boyd coughed roughly, his breath catching as he struggled to breathe evenly, one hand moving automatically to his throat as if to protect or console. "What the hell, Dana?" he rasped after a few moments, looking up at her from beneath his eyebrows.

Dana didn't answer at first; she just watched him distantly and seemed more interested in the way his fingers curled near his neck, his chest still heaving a little uncertainly. Her gaze slid toward Rick and she ordered, "Hold him."

Rick pulled him upright and shoved him against the wall without warning, forcing him to look at them straight on. He held him securely while Dana searched him roughly but thoroughly with her right hand. Boyd didn't move or resist, although he paid special attention as she moved around his sock and belt. Thankfully, she didn't notice the jump drive or the sheet of paper, mostly because she seemed more interested in searching for weapons.

She didn't find any weapons on him but he did have a small glass cutter, the hand held trap detector and the code breaker. She pulled the three items out of his pockets while Rick pushed him harder against the wall. Dana met Boyd's eyes with a flat look. "What are these?"

"Just some shit I've had on me for awhile. Like, that one's a flashlight," Boyd said, nodding toward the small black device that did have a light on one end that was recognizable as a flashlight.

Dana raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "And you're going to try to tell me this isn't a glass cutter?" she demanded as she held it up.

"No," Boyd said, giving her a strange look. "That is. Look, what's going on?"

"Where have you been?" Rick's tone was relatively reasonable given the circumstances but it was clear he wasn't asking this idly; it was simply a softer form of a demand.

"I was around," Boyd said with a hint of irritation. "Seriously, what the fuck, guys? Why'd you call me a traitor?"

"Anyone who was in that building and didn't turn up dead or in the hospital's a traitor," Dana informed him coldly. She slipped the decoder, glass cutter and trap detector into her pockets.

"Where 'around'?" Rick insisted, watching Boyd unwaveringly with sharp eyes.

Boyd made a face at them. He wished now he'd had the chance to interact with them more at the time they'd met in the hotel. Although he'd seen them a few times, they had all been relatively short meetings except the afternoon they'd played cards. Even that had only been for a few hours and they'd been in such an informal setting that it was entirely different than these circumstances. He remembered Dana as being intense and stubborn but she also was the one to laugh the loudest when she got around to feeling truly amused. Rick had seemed quiet, reserved, but nothing had seemed to miss his unwavering gaze and he'd seemed kind, somehow, or perhaps he'd had the potential to be. Boyd had to go with those memories of their personalities as information to base his current interactions on, but Dana seemed angrier now, more prone to violence and accusation. Or perhaps it was simply that before they hadn't seen him as an enemy.

"Towns around Monterrey at first, mostly," Boyd answered, giving them a look that stated he was trying to work with them despite how unreasonable they were being. "I didn't know why the place went down, who was attacking us, if someone was hunting down all the reps, Janus and would-be's alike. I figured it was best to run 'till I knew what was happening." He looked at Dana, insulted. "How's that make me a traitor?"

"That makes you a traitor and a fucking coward," Dana said as anger overcame her features and voice. She moved right into his personal space and shoved him violently on the shoulder. "Why'd you run? Only traitors and cowards run when their comrades are burning to death behind them."

It was probably because he hadn't felt entirely ready for this mission and because he was suddenly being confronted with people from the time of the JKS mission, but for some reason the comment was enough to make him think of Jessica, of Sin stopping to help someone he knew, of the people he'd met in the center like Pat and the deaths they'd probably endured. He couldn't help a flash of guilt crossing his eyes and he looked away, his jaw setting. "I was scared," he mumbled uncomfortably.

"Scared?" Dana demanded incredulously. She shoved him again, her teeth gritted. "You're such a fucking pussy. You were scared, so you ran? Don't you have any pride? Any trust in Janus? Any fucking strength in your beliefs? I nearly lost my arm because I was in there, because I stopped to help my comrade. You just ran. " She looked at him in utter disgust. "You don't deserve Janus."

"Why are you here?" Rick demanded before Boyd could respond to her. His ever-present quiet, intense stare did not leave Boyd's face and he seemed intent on not letting a single stray comment or missing explanation pass without being addressed.

"I was..." Boyd looked between the two of them hesitantly, as if he was a little embarrassed to tell them the truth. He could tell they wouldn't let him get away with any half-assed explanations so he quickly thought of the story he could make seem most believable in this situation, trying to imagine in that bare fraction of a second all the questions that would result and how he'd be able to answer them. "I wanted to make it up to everyone."

"Make what up? To who?" Rick asked immediately.

"Everyone," Boyd said, looking uncomfortable. "My friends, the people I met, Janus... I felt bad and when I finally contacted home, they gave me such shit..."

"So you were going to relieve feelings of guilt by breaking in here?" Rick interpreted, giving him a flat look that made it obvious he didn't believe him. "Start from the beginning." His tone clearly implied that if he didn't believe the story, Boyd would regret it.

"Yeah," Dana said in a hard tone, "and while you're at it why don't you give us some bullshit reason about why you look like you're trying to be undercover and why you're sneaking around places you shouldn't even know about. I'm in the mood to be entertained."

Boyd glanced between the two again, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He could have just attacked them, attempted to take them both out and try to hide their bodies before he would have continued along his way. But that was too risky; Rick was quick and strong, Dana was wily. There was a very real chance that he wouldn't even be able to incapacitate them both. If that happened, they were intelligent enough to sound the alarm immediately and get out the details of what had happened, to know that he couldn't be who he'd claimed he was.

At the moment, although they both seemed extremely suspicious of him, he got the impression that they didn't doubt that he was Kadin Reed; rather, they were doubting Kadin Reed's motivations. That was something that could work in his favor; at least that way he had some sense of history with them, as brief as it had been, and he would have a better chance of manipulating the situation to a direction best for him. He couldn't afford to lose even that tentative amount of trust they were putting in his presence. He was better off working with them and seeing how far he got by being Kadin; then, when that plan ran out of usefulness, he would change tactics to whatever made the most sense at that time. Quickly, he tried to remember everything he could about Kadin's history he'd been told and decided to embellish where necessary.

"Look," he said seriously, giving them a weary look. He hesitated again, as if he didn't feel like he needed to be telling them this, but then he spoke anyway. "I know you both probably think I'm an asshole but I swear I wasn't trying to be. We've all got shit we have to deal with and some of us are smart enough to deal with it early while others ignore it 'till they fuck themselves over, right? I'm one of those 'others.' In the second wave, my house got hit by part of one of the bombs and it all got fucked up... I was in my room so I heard it like this just... fucking concussion that flattened my clothes, made me feel like I was going deaf. My little sister was caught so I tried to get to her-- I really did, I fucking swear, but I couldn't get close enough. She... pretty much burned to death right in front of me. Screaming my name, for me to help. Wanting me to make it stop hurting."

These two were too keen for him to hope his pretend emotions would be enough to convince them. He knew his tone was believable but if his expression wasn't, he would just seem too fake. To get the right flash of anger, pain and regret, he forced himself to briefly think of Lou, of screaming desperately as he tried to reach him, as Lou was murdered right in front of him. But the memory was unexpectedly vivid, making him feel like he was suddenly drowning in it. For a moment he could practically feel the spray of blood across his face, the smell of cement beneath him, the sound of Lou's gurgling breath as he struggled to breathe through the hole in his throat.

Boyd's expression darkening considerably as he looked away, refusing to meet either of their eyes. He tried to push that and other memories away, including the ones that had become connected in his mind to Lou's death thanks to Shane's patient, relentless cruelty. Now he also remembered seeing the murder played across the ceiling, hearing the desperation in his voice and the bittersweet cruelty of hearing Lou's voice again after so long, only to have it trail off to bloodied silence each time. In that memory, even if he'd looked away he would have just seen other pictures, of Lou, of Sin and his wrecked body, the deathly pallor of his skin...

He grit his teeth and wondered what the hell was his problem. He knew he wouldn't normally let something like that overcome him on a mission, but then, he'd been afraid of what this mission would prove; about himself, his abilities, and what his failures could mean about his future with Sin. But with Sin on the compound, if he messed this up he could very well be putting Sin in more immediate danger. If they realized he wasn't who he said he was, if they figured out to look for other intruders, then what would Boyd do if Hale somehow realized Sin was still alive? If everything horrible happened all over again?

He recovered from the flash of emotions quickly, primarily due to determination not to fuck this mission up, but the vividness of the memories left him feeling a little shaky even if it didn't show in his expression. Part of the shakiness was uncertainty in his own abilities but he tried not to think about it too closely or it would just distract him further. He still wouldn't look at them and when he spoke again, he made his tone almost resentful that he had to explain this much. To Rick and Dana, he looked and sounded the way so many people did when they came to Janus; angry with what they'd lost, angry with themselves, wanting revenge and a cause and hope rolled into one convenient package they could hold close to console them when everything else felt so empty.

"We've been in some crazy shit in TDM but... I dunno, somehow I haven't been in a bombed building again. Not like the way it was when Kara died. So, yeah, maybe it's pathetic, yeah, maybe I was a coward, but... I seriously don't know what happened. I fucking freaked. Shit started going down around me and I just... ran." He paused, waiting for them to speak or ask further questions, but they both waited expectantly for him to continue.

Frowning, Boyd ran a tired hand across his face. "I don't remember leaving, to be honest. I guess some chick in a hi-rise saw someone matching my vague description bolting and everyone all jumped on that as the culprit." He glanced briefly up at them with a mixture of weariness and anger before he looked away, an edge making it into his voice. "Which is fucking bullshit, if you ask me. Maybe the dick head that did that shit looked like that, I dunno. But if all that chick saw was me, I wasn't doing nothing wrong but running for my fucking life.

"Anyway, next thing I know I'm hiding in some shit hole in Monterrey, the cops are going fucking nuts around me, I don't know where anyone is or what went down, and I'm scared shitless that whoever attacked JKS has some list of our names as attendees. What if they were lying in wait to snipe any of us stupid enough to stick our heads up for air?"

He scowled at the thought. "I wasn't about to risk that. I got all paranoid they'd have pictures of us or some shit so I changed my appearance, snuck around and shit, made it out of Monterrey, hid awhile. Eventually, I found a way to contact Warren and the others. But they were pretty pissed at me, y'know? They knew I'd been scared and shit but they said I should've contacted Janus when I had my shit together. Since I didn't and I contacted them first, they said it made it seem like TDM sucked, like they weren't trustworthy or brave. They thought I'd compromised their chances of joining Janus."

Dana gave him a look that seemed to say, 'At least your friends are intelligent,' but she didn't seem to be as intensely angry as she had been before; now she just seemed caught somewhere between unreadable and feeling distaste. Rick, meanwhile, continued to watch him with the same unwavering, indecipherable expression.

"So," Boyd continued after a pause in which he realized they weren't going to respond or ask questions, "I tried to figure shit out. I found out about this place and I came to try to find Hale Clemons. I thought, I dunno, he's the rep around here, right? He was involved in that JKS stuff... I thought maybe I could explain my shit to him and he'd understand and talk to his bosses or something. Put in a good word. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know who to trust so it wasn't like I wanted to just go talk to anyone in Janus I may be able to find. I figured the guy who was working the convention down here couldn't be untrustworthy or Janus would've already taken him out. So I thought if I found him here, it'd mean he'd... I dunno. Be able to help." He trailed off with a light shrug.

Silence met his explanation and for a long moment, the other two only watched him as he directly returned their stares. He didn't say or do anything else, waiting instead for them to come to a conclusion, waiting to see if he'd have to try something else. He kept his expression as believable and upfront as he could and didn't waver even for a second.

Finally, Dana flicked her gaze down to his hands, encased in gloves. That would certainly seem odd to her since he hadn't worn gloves when he was acting as Kadin Reed at the JKS. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly. "You wanted to be trustworthy to Janus so you broke in here, snuck around in the shadows with glass cutters and who knows what the hell else, wearing gloves to protect-- let me guess, your innocence or hurt feelings and not, in fact, your fingerprints?"

"I didn't break in anywhere," Boyd said, giving her a strange look. "You think I'm crazy? That'd be stupid as hell. I'm real sure Mr. Clemons'd wanna listen to me then. Nah, I just walked around 'till I found someone to talk to." He quickly thought of the names he'd overheard since entering the compound. "Darren let me in and when I told him who I was looking for, he checked and Lynn said it was okay to give me some clearance. And that glass cutter you're so worried about was for getting into places to hide out around Monterrey." He saw Dana and Rick tense slightly at the woman's name; he hoped he'd guessed right that she was someone with enough power to make that sort of decision. It had seemed to him that she would have to be judging by the access she had.

He tried to incorporate small details of the information he'd overheard to make his story more believable. "I dunno if someone was supposed to be showing me around or shit but she seemed pretty distracted and kinda mad on the radio. Not at Darren but someone else, not sure who, but she said she had to go 'cause she was waiting for some phone call. Anyway, Darren gave me some directions and maybe he was supposed to come with me, I dunno, but then he just kinda walked off and I've been looking for Mr. Clemons since."

Dana frowned, though her eyes had narrowed at the mention of Darren wandering off and even Rick had let a sign of mild distaste cross his expression. That led Boyd to believe he'd guessed correctly; Darren was likely well-known for making stupid decisions and the described interaction was probably something they could see him doing. "Why were you sneaking around then?"

"I wasn't sneaking, not really." Boyd frowned. "I mean... I didn't really know where I was, didn't know who to trust. I was wandering around, mostly, trying to figure out where Mr. Clemons is."

"With the lights out," Rick said flatly.

"In case you didn't realize, it's night," Boyd said sarcastically. "What if people were sleeping? It's not like my intention was to disrupt everything in here. I just want to tell my story and leave. If I see a room doesn't look right then there's no point in turning on all the lights, is there?"

"Exactly. It's night," Rick said pointedly. "Why would you come at night if you wanted to seem believable?"

"I dunno, man," Boyd said in exasperation. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. What's with the twenty questions? I finally figured out where this place was, just got here, and wanted to get in before I got too freaked out and talked myself out of it. Besides, I thought maybe Mr. Clemons'd be more likely to be here at night. He's gotta be busy with meetings and shit during the day, right? I guess, best case scenario, I was sorta hoping someone'd just let me stay the night and I'd get a few minutes to talk to him tomorrow or some shit."

Dana and Rick exchanged a look that seemed to pass a conversation between them before they returned their attention to him.

Dana was the one to first speak aloud. "So you valiantly find your way here, get in before you lose what little balls you have for this, and sneak around like a dumbfuck until you find someone stupid enough to help you out. Okay, let's say I buy that. If you were such good buddies with Darren, why didn't you just ask some guard here where Hale is, then? Why didn't you call Darren again instead of walking around aimlessly? This place is pretty big, I'm sure you've noticed. It'd take you awhile to figure out where to go."

"First of all, not 'good buddies' with Darren; he just helped me out," Boyd insisted. "Secondly, I didn't want to have to talk to too many people. I kinda figured I was lucky someone helped me out so quickly and I thought if I started wandering around asking everyone, someone'd try to kick me out or some shit. And anyway, if you think I'm so untrustworthy, wouldn't I have tried to run away when you caught me?"

"Not if you wanted to make us believe that," Dana said without missing a beat, raising her eyebrows as she studied him. "At least you're aware others could think you're acting oddly. With that in mind, you decided to, what, make it worse by wearing gloves and carrying that extra shit on this ambassador mission?" She didn't seem willing to let him off the hook for not explaining that earlier.

"I already told you why I've got that glass cutter. I'm sure you can figure out why I'd have a flashlight unless you think I can see in the dark. And as for the gloves? Hell yeah, I wore 'em," Boyd said fervently. "I've been wearing gloves ever since JKS. You kidding me? I already said I didn't know who to trust... What if I came in here, trying to find my way to Mr. Clemons to explain what happened and shit, and I run into some shitbag who was somehow in on the bombs? What if this shitbag's been trying to hide under Janus' nose all this time and they're almost onto him and he's scared? Then I show up, all lollipops and puppy-dog tails wanting to tell my side of the story, and the guy thinks, 'Here's a perfect opportunity to pass the blame.' All he'd have to do is trick me into holding some shit and then he could, I dunno, make some shit up about my fingerprints planted some place at JKS. Even though that'd be bullshit and Janus and Clemons'd figure it out, that'd probably be a lot of time and pain wasted on my part before it's settled." He made a noise of incredulity and shook his head. "No way, man. Not going there. I'm gonna keep being paranoid as fuck 'till this all gets straightened out and I know who to trust and Janus says they're not pissed with me anymore."

"Still pissed with you?" Rick repeated, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. "So you know about the list, then."

Boyd stared at the two, racking his brains for anything 'the list' could possibly mean in that context, but he had no idea. "Uhh," he said blankly after a moment. "What list?"

Dana gave him a disbelieving look then suddenly let out a brief, harsh laugh. "Wow, you're a fucking idiot."

"Hmm." Rick considered Boyd, then looked at Dana. "I suppose there's no reason he'd know if he's been so thoroughly hiding like a rat. It's mildly impressive no one caught him yet, really."

"Yeah," Dana eyed Boyd in dark amusement as she replied to Rick, "and after all that work he walks right into a trap. Brilliant."

"It's not exactly a trap," Rick said dismissively with a shrug. Even so, his grip remained steady and heavy on Boyd's shoulder, leaving no doubt that he wouldn't let go no matter what. "It's more like a reward for some and justice for the targets."

Boyd looked between the two of them with a hint of nervousness. "Uh, guys? What're you talking about? Trap...?"

"You're on Janus' shit list, cupcake," Dana said sweetly. "And we can be rewarded for bringing you in."

Boyd stared at her blankly. "What? Me as in me personally? I'm on a shit list Janus made?" How the hell could that be? That made him wonder if they really were onto him, if Janus somehow knew who he was, or if Janus just knew that he had been one of the two people to set off those bombs. None of those were scenarios he wanted to be true.

"What happened at JKS was obviously an inside job," Rick said patiently, tightening his fingers on Boyd's shoulder even further as a silent warning. "Everyone who was MIA and in the following months didn't show up at the hospital, dead, or check in, was put on a wanted list. It has the name and face of everyone who's wanted for-- shall we say-- 'questioning,' and it offers an unspecified reward for anyone who brings in one of them alive for information." His gaze sharpened on Boyd uncomfortably. "How odd that Darren, who I would generally describe as greedy and stupid, didn't take advantage of that."

"Well, I dunno," Boyd said almost absently, eying them. That list they mentioned explained how they'd recognized him so easily after such an absence. That could be a huge problem for him; he'd have to find out how widely distributed that list was. Otherwise, he'd run the risk of being recognized as Reed at every Janus place he went. This could also pose a problem for 53; it was a good thing they'd set some contingency plans in place when Boyd had originally received his assignment. He had also spoken to Kadin about the scenarios during the week he'd spent in Hawaii. "Maybe he just doesn't read them. More importantly-- What the fuck?"

Rick looked at him completely unsympathetically. "That's the price you pay for betraying Janus."

"You're lucky it says we get more of a reward for you alive instead of dead," Dana taunted with a smirk.

Boyd's eyes narrowed. Something about her tone put him on edge. "Yeah? You're so bloodthirsty now you'll kill for no reason?"

"No," she said, her tone demeaning. "But if it hadn't I would've killed you right away for the coward you are. Would've been a shame, though; I wouldn't have been able to hear your tragic little sob story."

Boyd glared and for the first time he jerked against Rick's grip, as if he wanted to hit her. "Fuck you, Dana," he said heatedly, knowing Kadin would not have let her get away with that comment. "Be pissed all you want about me running off. Fine. You're right, I shouldn't've. That's one thing I already planned to say to the big wigs. Apparently no one else fucking errs like a human in this organization if you all just valiantly ran in like fucking superhero firefighters at the slightest sign of danger. Mock all you want about that shit, though, I don't care. But don't you dare belittle my sister's death."

Dana's eyes narrowed dangerously at his superhero comment. "It sucks your sister died," she said, voice rising in anger as she shoved him with her good arm. "You're right; that's not something for me to judge and that's not the part I was referring to. We all end up in Janus for pasts similar to that and I'd have to be a total bitch to pretend I'm not here for the same reason. My problem is with you. If your sister fucking died because you couldn't reach her, how the fuck does that make it okay to not even try to help your friends when you're older, when you should fucking know better, when you could do something about it instead of abandon them?"

"I didn't abandon anyone!" Boyd glared at her. "It wasn't some conscious fucking decision -- it just accidentally happened."

"Accidentally?" Dana mocked loudly. "You fucking knew what was happening and you ran. There's nothing fucking accidental about that, you piece of shit. Your sister would be fucking ashamed."

"Don't talk about her like you knew her!" Boyd jerked at Rick's grip again. "How the fuck would you know what would shame her? You didn't know her at all!"

"I know if I had a brother like you I'd feel sorry for myself that we were related," she sneered.

"Fuck you, Dana," Boyd seethed. "Excuse me for having an automatic flight reaction to a burn-or-fucking-flight situation but apparently I'm not the moral fucking angel you are. And anyway, let's be realistic. Saving the world doesn't always work, does it? I see saving your precious friends didn't fare too well for you." He looked pointedly down at her left arm, asking cruelly, "So how was it? Save the people you were going for or did you just make yourself mentally scarred along with physically? Was that failure worth it for you or are you gonna try again next time with the good arm? Make it a matching set?"

Dana's expression went slack with fury and disbelief but before she could react, Rick slammed his fist into Boyd's face with all his strength. Boyd's head snapped violently to the side, his neck twisting painfully in the movement. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from where he must have bitten his tongue and at first all he could do was stare in shock to the side.

"Kadin, you're a fucking asshole," Rick snarled, his hand on Boyd's shoulder nearly making his arm go numb from the pressure. "Dana risked her life and future to try to save even just one person she knew and you just fucking ran off like a little rat. I don't care what happened to your sister when you were young; does that give you the right to hurt people now? Seeing someone you cared about die makes it okay for you to not hold anyone's life as meaningful anymore? Is your worthless life so damn important everyone else can be sacrificed just for you to run away and hide?"

Boyd said nothing, didn't even seem to react, so Rick shook him hard, causing his head to snap back and almost hit the wall. He glowered at him in disappointment, disgust, and anger; Boyd's attitude seemed to have triggered deep, violent distaste in him. "You don't have a cause, you don't have belief. You're just a selfish little bastard who cares only about himself. How can you support freedom and justice if you'd let your friends burn just because you didn't care about them enough to help?" There was another stretch of silence as Boyd had nothing to say to that. Rick shook him angrily again, as if trying to force a response from him.

"What are we to you?" he demanded harshly. "What are people? What are your friends? Just meaningless noise in the background to use whenever you want and forget when you get scared?" After a moment of once more waiting for an answer he didn't receive, Rick gritted his teeth, shoving Boyd briefly against the wall. "Try imagining it for once. Imagine your sister dying in that fire." Another shove. "Imagine her screaming and imagine yourself just running away because you weren't in the mood to help her." Another shove. "You're thinking you didn't run away though, right? But you did. Your comrades who died in there were family to someone. Someone else's sister you could have saved, that you abandoned. Someone else's brother."

Another shove and this time Rick held him against the wall, leaning in to say intensely, "Even the people who were orphaned by the war have found family in Janus. And you'd just leave them? Maybe you reacted poorly at the time, maybe you were scared. But you should regret it by now. You should fucking feel sorry for it, not mock the people who did what you didn't have the strength to do in the first place. How can you live with yourself? We've all lost someone, we've all been hurt. That doesn't give us the right to hurt others to make up for it. That doesn't make it right to act like you." Rick shoved him one last time in disgust but didn't let go of his shoulder, despite the fact his expression made it clear that he didn't want to touch him anymore.

They all stood there, each of them dealing with varying degrees of anger and other emotions, and Boyd kept his head turned to the side for a long moment, looking down at the ground rather than at them. Something in him felt like it cracked at the words, at Rick's fist, but not for the reasons the two Janus agents would have thought it would, had they known how much that affected him. What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he antagonizing them like this? Why was he reacting so intensely? He didn't even know anymore if that had been him acting as Kadin that had resulted in the argument, in saying those cruel things, or if it had just been himself.

He couldn't help placing Rick's words in context of his own life, of JKS, Monterrey, and everything that had led up to it, everything that had happened since. He'd been feeling so much guilt and regret about the entire situation that he hadn't realized there had been other emotions mixed in as well. He'd honestly felt angry when he'd yelled at Dana but he didn't know exactly why, who it was directed toward or what it was in reaction to.

That wasn't all; he felt something else as well. Was it still some sense of jealousy? That Sin would have stopped for Jessica like that, that he would have risked, as Rick put it, his life and future to save even one person he cared about? Did some part of him feel jealous, like Sin would have always chosen Jessica over him, that maybe Sin wouldn't have stopped for him in a similar situation? That would be idiotic to believe after Sin had told him that he would choose him over the Agency; obviously, with that sort of sentiment, he would choose to save him in a dangerous situation as well if he could. And it wasn't as though he was in the habit of needing to be saved anyway. He'd always assumed the jealousy he'd felt had been directly related to Jessica, and to a great extent it had been. But now...

Hearing Rick and Dana, it made him wonder if there was a part of him that had also felt jealous or fearful of the fact that someone in Sin's position could still care, while Boyd couldn't seem to. That people like Dana and Rick, who were in Janus and had probably killed many people, could still care about others' lives, others' well being. Boyd only cared about those close to him and for the most part he felt like everyone else should handle themselves. Had he always been that way? Or had he let Lou's death enhance it? Was he letting his best friend's murder and the fact that he himself was so hurt and no one saved them be an excuse to not even try to stop other murders and killings he now saw? He now committed? That made him wonder if he was missing something crucial; if there was something wrong with him that made him think in a manner differently than others.

Thinking about any of this now was sheer idiocy, though. He was still in a dangerous situation, he still had to get out, he still had to make them believe in his existence as Kadin Reed, even if they hated what Kadin Reed represented, who Boyd was making him out to be. What would Kadin think, if he knew how Boyd was presenting him? Yet Boyd was acting as much like Kadin as he could; as far as he could tell, he was staying true to Kadin's character. Even so, some part of him wondered if Kadin would have stopped for Sin after JKS; if Kadin would have been capable of understanding the mindset behind Sin and Dana's actions. If Kadin also believed in saving others like they did or if he would have been like Boyd and would have only been interested in saving himself.

The tension in the room was nearly palpable and Boyd finally turned his head back toward the others, staring at the ground for another moment before he flicked his gaze briefly up at them. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, actually meaning the words even though he didn't know exactly why. "I... got a little carried away."

Dana and Rick stared at him for a very long moment, their twin gazes intense and hard, but finally Dana looked away, seeming mildly uncomfortable. She absently touched her left arm with her right hand and grimaced, looking pained on a level that was beyond merely physical. They were quiet for longer and then she sighed in irritation.

"Look," she said heavily, sounding reasonable and resentful at the same time. "I... know how you felt, trying so hard to get someone and watching them burn anyway. I'm not telling you this because you deserve it-- you were a fucking asshole to me and I could just tell you to get lost-- but because I think you'll get what I'm saying." She raised an eyebrow then said almost challengingly, "No, if you must know, she didn't live. I couldn't really reach her, I burned the hell out of myself getting close, and she died anyway." She paused, eyes narrowed and hard as she let out a brief breath. "Real useful, huh? One could say I shouldn't have even tried. Then I'd still be able to use my left arm properly. It wouldn't hurt like a fucker, I wouldn't still be in physical therapy, it wouldn't look like this and everything would be wonderful, right?" She looked down at her arm, her voice falling a little quieter. "I wouldn't look at this scar and remember what she looked like as she died. I wouldn't be so angry."

She returned her attention to Boyd and stared at him intensely until he finally looked at her fully; once he returned her gaze, it felt like he couldn't look away again. "But you know what? I would've been angry with myself. I would've hated myself for not even trying and it would've been worse. Way worse. I would've let those feelings poison me inside and I don't know what I would've become. I'm only doing this well because I know I tried to help her and because I've been dealing with the shit I've been feeling since. So even though I have an idea how you must have felt when that happened, I think your problem now is you've become a jackass about it. I bet in typical dumb ass guy fashion, you never dealt with it, did you?"

Boyd, unsurprisingly, didn't answer and she didn't seem to have expected him to anyway. Her eyes narrowed and she studied him mercilessly. "So believe me when I say I'm sorry your sister died, I understand how you felt, and I can see how the anger would consume you, make you someone you may not have intended to be. And believe me equally when I say you are currently an asshole, coward and traitor and I won't feel any regret if Hale decides to interrogate you to death. At least I'll have my reward and I'll know the person Hale's questioning isn't anyone worth keeping alive at the moment."

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither gaze wavering, neither expression giving any more away than they were willing to show. Dana's eyes were cold and hard and Boyd's were too difficult to read.

Boyd was the first to look away. The silence remained between them until he said finally, "So, is that the same as saying if this place was on fire and you had the chance to save me, you'd let me burn?"

Dana watched him, her expression absolutely unwavering and unreadable, and didn't answer. She let the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable and almost hurtful. Only then did she turn to Rick and jerk her head toward the door. "Come on. We'll take him to see his precious savior. Maybe Hale will feel kind enough to get him and his group back in Janus' good graces. After all," she looked Boyd over dismissively, "it's not entirely USNE7's fault they hired a coward for a rep. He seemed pretty cool to me when I first met him, too. Even beat me at a game of cards." She turned her back on Boyd and opened the door to the hallway, walking out as she said mostly to herself, "Appearances can be deceiving, of course."

Rick nodded toward her, gave Boyd a serious look, then lessened his grip just enough for it to not be painful. He pushed Boyd ahead of him as they walked down the hallway; Dana in front with her left arm barely moving at her side, her stride quick, determined and powerful; Boyd next, stumbling every once in awhile when Rick pushed him too hard, and as they walked he discreetly watched where they went, memorizing the directions and structure of the building even as he tried not to think too hard about what had been said; and, finally, Rick, his quietly reserved nature in contrast to his overwhelming presence, his gaze strong and thoughtful as it flicked back and forth between Dana and Boyd.

The fact that Rick and Dana didn't secure Boyd's hands, relying instead on Rick's ability to hold him still, told Boyd that despite the fact they were seriously suspicious of him, they didn't think he was a major threat. He knew they didn't believe his story and that was unsurprising; truthfully, it wasn't his story itself he was trying to convince them of indefinitely but rather that he was actually Kadin Reed. Although they doubted his excuse for being there, they didn't seem to question his identity. At least, not yet. And given that as Kadin he'd always acted mildly bumbling, he didn't appear to be very strong or look as though he would be a very adept fighter, and he didn't have any weapons on him, they underestimated him just enough to believe they had no current reason to handcuff or cobble him. They made an odd procession as they moved through the building, but they barely ran into anyone and when they did, no one looked at Boyd twice once they saw that Dana and Rick were involved.

---

The building Sin was in turned out to not only have one sublevel, but three, and the lower two were once again hidden and difficult to access. The staircase he'd found ended up leading to a floor that was relatively innocuous and looked a lot like the rest of the house. It had the same architectural design, same flooring and even the same wallpaper except for the fact that it wasn't as opulent in its decorations. Although there was a hallway and multiple rooms, it was relatively small in comparison to the rest of the house, which wasn't saying much since the rest of the building was incredibly large. It made sense though; digging into the hill to create extra levels had probably cost a fortune and making them as spread out would have only made it costlier and more time consuming. However, the size made it simultaneously easier and more obnoxious to sneak around in.

While he could cover the area in a much shorter amount of time without having to spend so much effort searching entire wings, it also made it more difficult to stay hidden and because of that he'd had no choice but to kill yet another operative immediately upon entering the area. They'd essentially run into each other as soon as he'd made it down the staircase and he'd responded instantly, slamming the heel of his hand repeatedly against the man's nose until there was nothing but a gaping hole in his face from where the cartilage had shoved up into his brain.

It had been pure luck that no one else had been in the immediate area but as he dragged the body quickly to one of the empty rooms, he realized with increasing frustration that if he had to kill anyone else there really would be nowhere to hide a body for long. As soon as someone actually found one of the poorly concealed corpses, the whole place would be on alert. It was aggravating but he really had no choice; people kept getting in his way and it was a lot simpler to just get rid of them rather than knocking them out and hoping they didn't wake up until after he found Thierry. He resented having to go through all of this trouble for the French moron anyway; knowing his luck he'd have taken all of this time and effort and the idiot had already gone and died. What a waste.

Feeling rather resentful about the entire affair, Sin had begun his search of the top floor and was rather irritated to see that the only things of note it seemed to contain were a couple of spare rooms, some offices, a conference room, what appeared to be the security center which held the monitors that were connected to the cameras on the outer walls of the estate and a bathroom. He'd just received Boyd's transmission that he'd also found something and had almost come to the conclusion that if Boyd was actually on the track to finding Thierry and all of this secretive hidden shit was just to conceal a couple of rooms then Clemons was a complete tool of a man, when he realized that something was very off.

Other than the man he'd run into after coming down the staircase, he'd nearly come into conflict with two others although he'd managed to hide from them in time to avoid it. However, the odd thing about the last pair was that they had appeared rather suddenly. The ceiling and walls did not appear to be soundproofed, as he could hear footsteps resounding above him and the idle conversation of the men sitting in the security room, but for some reason he had neither heard these people coming downstairs or seen them in any of the surrounding rooms as he'd made his initial once over. It didn't make sense.

The only thing that did make sense was that there was yet another hidden area inside of this hidden area and honestly, the conclusion caused him to become rather fed up with Clemons and this whole irritating mission. The whole estate had been one out-of-control study in paranoia after another and in his opinion it was going too far now. He felt like he was in some kind of bad haunted house or detective movie, but he was neither clever nor patient enough to be attempting to figure shit out and why couldn't people just have the balls to be sneaky and underhanded out in the open instead of going through so much trouble to hide it anyway? God, people pissed him off.

He'd just about decided that there was most likely just another doorway in the security room, the only area he hadn't searched yet since it was occupied, when he heard loud footsteps above him. He had just enough time to duck into the hallway, half in the darkened doorway of one of the spare rooms when an agitated looking blonde woman came storming down the staircase, shoes resounding angrily against the floor and ponytail swinging against her back like the tail of an angry cat. She strode through the main room stiffly, walked past the security room without looking twice and headed down the hallway without even noticing that she'd passed within inches of where he'd effectively blended in with the darkness of the room behind him. For a moment he'd assumed she was heading to the office to use the phone, the only thing in it that could be operated, but instead she went directly into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Sin stared at the door blankly for a long moment, waiting for her to reemerge, but when she didn't his suspicion immediately rose. Without much hesitation he crossed the hall and opened the door to the bathroom, hoping he wasn't about to bust in on her sitting on the toilet but deciding that it was worth it to check either way. However, not only was she not on the toilet, she also wasn't anywhere in the room. He closed the door and turned slowly in a circle, noting that there wasn't anything but a toilet, a sink, a cabinet and a tall mirror.

Dark brows furrowed and he opened the cabinet only to find a bunch of towels and toiletries. The ceiling was painted white and really had no space for a hidden door or passage. It was as he stood there glaring at his reflection in the full length mirror that he realized the mirror, which so perfectly framed his entire body and was vaulted to the wall, had to be the answer. And it was.

It took more tenacity and patience than he knew he possessed to figure it out, but as he felt along the sides, he found a small latch that was very well concealed. When he pulled it, the mirror swung open like a door which led to a short hallway, another doorway and yet another set of stairs that led down. It was definitely beginning to be too much for him but it was here that he realized there were two other levels to the building and it was here that his body count slowly began to rise.

As he went deeper into the building though, Sin slowly became less irritated and more anxious about the entire situation. While he knew he wasn't in an entirely enclosed area, the knowledge that he was going deeper into a hill and that he was most likely surrounded by rock and earth disturbed him more than it should have and it made his patience even thinner. The fact that the area was more populated and well-lit didn't help the situation very much since that meant he had limited places to duck into and gave him very little hope about the plan of somehow sneaking out with Thierry undetected; although he'd never really had much faith in that possibility in the first place.

So he moved quicker, scanned areas faster and to his frustration but not so much surprise, found that many doors and areas were locked. After his initial search he saw a door that obviously led to a bottom level, the third sublevel, but the door required a password to get through and he didn't want to spend time trying to figure it out when he hadn't even thoroughly searched the entire second level yet. The floor lacked the innocuousness of the one above and although it didn't look like a torture chamber or prison, there was a institutional quality about it that reminded him of the Fourth floor of the Agency and he was sure that anyone would pick up on how intimidating and disturbing that could be. This area spread out more than the first sublevel but without a key or a way to sneak around effectively to find one without completely blowing his cover, he didn't have very many options.

What he ultimately found were two corridors which held several locked rooms and most of which appeared empty from what he could see through the small window at the top of each door. There was a third, shorter corridor but this one was guarded by three armed Janus operatives and that alone told him that he'd found what he was looking for and that there was no way things were not going to get messy. In the space between him actually coming to that conclusion and him actually starting to make his move, once again the damned radio went off.

"Back up needed in the North building! We have an intruder and a man down!" A man shouted urgently, sounding very similar to the one who'd radioed earlier.

The guards looked at each other briefly, then three sets of eyes simultaneously turned to him and things began to happen very fast. The man closest to him was the first to react and charged forward even as the other two began to reach for their weapons. But before any of them could do anything, one strong hand grabbed the man, twisted him around and Sin effectively used him as a shield as the other two began to fire. The guard went slack against him and he grabbed the man's twin Browning Hi-Powers before quickly unloading them into the two agents by the door. He could hear the distant crackle of the radio in the background but he ignored it; trying to remain undercover really wasn't an option anymore and that's all he needed to know.

Sin let the body drop, ignoring the blood that had sprayed across his face and quickly crossed over to the door to peer inside. Sure enough, what appeared to be a terrified Thierry was cowering in the corner of the barren white room. He turned away and quickly searched the guards for the card key needed to enter just as he heard shouts and the sounds of footsteps running in his direction. He swiped the key and opened the door, glaring at Thierry impatiently as the sounds grew closer. "Get up."

Thierry looked far different than he had over a year ago in Paris; he was skinnier, incredibly pale and his eyes had a slightly haunted quality about them that only seemed emphasized by how frightened he currently seemed. However that aside, other then a few bruises and what appeared to be a split lip, he was relatively in tact. "Wha-- Sin?" He stammered, confused. Sin made a face and grabbed Thierry by one surprisingly thin arm, dragging him out of the room but Thierry's bare feet slid in the blood that had pooled out on the floor and his blue eyes widened in horror as he tripped over the bodies that lay sprawled across the corridor. "Putain de merde!"

Before they could get any farther than that, the advancing operatives rounded the corner and began firing at not only Sin, but at Thierry, with no hesitation. Sin slammed his shoulder into the shocked looking French man and sent him flying back into the safety of the room as Sin threw himself backwards on the floor just in time to avoid the flurry of bullets that embedded themselves in the wall behind him. He rolled out of the way of the continuing gunfire, grabbed one of the Brownings he'd lifted from the dead guard and eliminated two of the four before he even came to a stop.

"Kill Beauvais!" One of the remaining men, a tall burly blond, shouted furiously as Sin pinned himself against a recess in the wall created by a doorway. The other agent seemed too thunderstruck by the five dead men at his feet to immediately comply and the hesitation cost him dearly as Sin sent a bullet directly between his eyes. He aimed at the blond only to find that he was now out of bullets, but instead of wasting his own, Sin ran faster than seemed humanly possible back across the corridor, dodged bullets the man sent his way and then jumped at him with a flying tackle, landing squarely on his chest and sending the gun skittering across the hall. He snapped the operative's neck and got to his feet, eyes immediately zeroing in on Thierry, who seemed more terrified than he had moments ago.

"Get the fuck up now," Sin snapped impatiently as the other man cowered from him in fear.

"Yo-you--" Thierry stammered, his accent seeming heavier and more difficult to understand as he became more hysterical. His hands curled into fists, fingers digging into his palms as he pinned himself against the wall. "You're going to kill me too!" He blurted out finally.

"If that was the plan it would have already happened. Now get your fucking ass moving, now," Sin snarled but once again didn't wait for Thierry to comply before he stormed into the room and dragged the other man out violently. He took off running down the hall, half dragging, half carrying Thierry as he navigated his way back the way he'd come. As more shouts echoed off the walls ahead of them, Sin sent a brief transmission to Boyd to inform him that he had Thierry and that things were about to get a lot more interesting.

---

Rick pulled Boyd to an abrupt halt at the intersection of one hallway and another. Dana kept walking, not noticing or not caring that they weren't beside her anymore, and within seconds she had disappeared. Boyd looked at Rick questioningly but he was steadfastly ignored so he decided it was probably better not to ask aloud what was happening. It was likely that they didn't want to show him some sort of code or entrance or even specifically which room they were going to down the hallway, in case Clemons was not there. He could hear a faint knock in the direction Dana disappeared, followed by a low conversation. He'd been wondering why they had just assumed Hale Clemons would be available at this time of night and, more importantly, that he would be interested in dropping everything to deal with him. He suspected that finding the people on Janus' list was something that would result in rewards not only for those who found them but also for their supervisors, like Clemons.

It was odd; he'd gone along with Rick and Dana because it would potentially give him more information but standing there as he waited for the conversation to end, he felt a sense of uneasiness coming over him. In the context of his own health, this was idiotic. He should have just incapacitated Rick and Dana when they were alone and no one else knew about him and he should have run. As an agent, however, it was better to gain more information, to get a good look at the person in charge, to go as far as he could until he absolutely had to back out. Standing there in the hallway at that moment with Rick's heavy hand on his shoulder, however, he was very aware of how little he knew of the overall structure of this hidden wing, of how the only way he truly knew how to escape would be nearly impossible and may be easily anticipated, and of the fact that he didn't even know how many enemies or guards there were in the area.

He was here, alone, unarmed and outnumbered, without backup except for Sin, who was across the property with his hands full trying to find Thierry. Added to that, he was waiting to see the man who had managed to take advantage of his niece's accidental death to somehow overcome Sin and subsequently torture him relentlessly. Who the hell could do that? Boyd understood heat of the moment, he could understand if Hale had attacked Sin and hurt him there. But who could lose someone they cared about and have the presence of mind to use what he could only assume had been a few seconds to overwhelm Sin somehow? To be able to carry that anger out across weeks, watching as a person's humanity was denied further, as they became just a slab of meat to be dissected? Thoughts of Sin inevitably reminded him of that basement, those rooms, of the blood and the silence that was too loud, of the fear and anger and regret, and from there the aftermath. Of seeing Sin so terribly wounded, of his rattling breath and the unnatural way his body fell back to the floor of the van. Of all the shit he'd gone through as well, of the terror and the guilt and the lack of reason or care for months. Of how much that whole situation had fucked up Sin and his relationship after months of building it up. Of the thought of almost losing Sin forever.

His anxiety rose even as the thoughts strengthened his anger and hatred toward the man who was responsible, and it was with that feeling that he heard Dana call out to bring him in. Boyd felt his heart pounding harder than he would have expected as Rick silently pushed him down the hall.

Boyd made a conscious effort to keep his body language and mannerisms as perfect as he could though, as close to Kadin Reed and the sort of nervous anxiety he would be feeling and not the mixture of animosity and wariness he actually felt. He kept himself aware of things that would keep his mind more on the mission, such as what the area looked like and keeping it in context of the rest of the building. There was nothing striking about that hallway compared to all the others they had passed but because he'd been paying attention he knew he would be able to find it again. Along with that, he knew he'd be able to navigate successfully away from here, at least back the way he came.

At the end of the hallway there was a large wooden door that Dana stood to the side holding open; her eyes were dark and unreadable and she surveyed him silently as he was pushed past her. As he entered the room beyond, he saw that it appeared to be a combination of a library and an office. He glanced around the room as he entered, noting as many details as he could in as casual and quick a movement as possible. An imposing wooden desk dominated the center of the room; it was well cleaned and organized, with little compartments for all the items that were spread across it. Although he didn't have the chance to study the desk except to note there were no obvious large objects for him to use as a weapon, there were a variety of pens and paper clips laying on it. He also noticed the items that Dana had confiscated from him were piled haphazardly on the far side where he would be unable to reach them and that two chairs sat in front of the desk, presumably for visitors. The far wall was entirely covered by a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that was packed with books and looked old enough that they didn't have the titles obviously printed on the spines.

He didn't see any other obvious exits except back through the door he'd entered; there were no windows, as there hadn't been in the entire hidden wing, and although it was possible there were hidden entrances or passages into this room there was no way he'd be able to find them in the sort of situation that he would almost positively be in if he was trying to escape. The ceilings were normal; no tile, no obvious ventilation system, and certainly no trusses across the cieling that would provide him another escape. This room was also at the end of a long hallway, part of one of many other hallways just like it. Even if he needed Sin to come here, it would be difficult to explain to him properly how to navigate the halls and he wouldn't even know how to tell him to enter the hidden wing except through the electrical room. In all, unless he kept his mind steady enough to gain information and maneuver his way out of the situation or he somehow managed to overpower everyone at once, he was basically trapped until they let him go or slipped up.

It only took him a second to glance around the room and he ultimately turned his attention to the person he was here for. A Caucasian man in his early to mid forties sat behind the desk, watching them with an expression that was hard to read. He wore a dark suit that was obviously expensive, but that was probably the most distinguishable thing about his person. By looking at him, it was somehow difficult to imagine that he was the sort of person capable of the horrors he'd apparently put Sin through. He was of average build and height with dark curly hair and almond colored eyes. The most striking thing about him was a small scar at the corner of his bottom lip but even that was easy to miss if Boyd hadn't already known from the initial briefing photos that it was there. Hale Clemons seemed to be very ordinary other than the fact that he did not seem out of place in a designer suit or in such an opulent building, which showed that he was accustomed to having and spending a lot of money.

More than anything, it was his innocuousness that made Boyd feel uneasier. Obviously this man was capable of great cruelty if he felt the need, Boyd had known that much going into the situation. Yet even in this initial meeting he could tell that Hale Clemons was the sort of person that could commit atrocities in the one moment and in the next calmly enter an upscale party where he would display all the fine manners of the wealthy; that alone was very disturbing.

Or maybe it was just the fact that he was feeling a little off; that he kept thinking of things best forgotten. But he couldn't help thinking vaguely of Shane when he looked at Hale, at the way Hale so calmly and without malice studied Boyd, at the calculating glint that nevertheless sharpened his eyes. The connection to Shane made a part of him automatically feel more anxious and even a bit afraid, made him want to have more than that single door out of the room because that was exactly the way it had been in the room they'd held him, only that one door that he'd entered through and been unable to exit until they were through with him, until they were ready to throw him away. At the same time, he felt more angered and disgusted with the situation, with the things that Hale had done and the fact that although so many people automatically assumed Sin was a monster, it was really people like unobtrusive Hale with the cruelty beneath that perfectly pressed suit and calm expression who should be feared above all others.

Rick and Dana stopped just behind Boyd as Hale continued to examine him clinically. After a moment he dropped his gaze and picked up Boyd's code cracker, turning it over idly as he nodded his head for Boyd to move closer. When he didn't move Rick shoved him forward roughly, causing him to stumble and collide with the edge of the desk, knocking over some of the contents in the process. In the brief moment that his hands were on the wooden surface, he automatically grasped for whatever was closest to use as a weapon. The only thing he was able to discreetly grab was a small paper clip that he quickly hid between his fingers and up into his sleeve. It wasn't the best weapon in the world but if he could unbend it without them noticing, it was at least enough to blind someone if jammed into their eye.

"Bind him," Hale said calmly, his voice slightly accented and almost pleasant.

Boyd couldn't help a spike of alarm at the words; he started to move but Rick was right next to him and he was too quick and strong. Rick had the same type of casual strength Sin possessed; even though he wasn't nearly as strong as Sin, he could still easily pick Boyd up and move him wherever he wanted. Boyd had barely even shifted his weight before Rick wordlessly yanked him back by his upper arm and nearly threw him into one of the wooden chairs. Boyd hit the back of the chair with enough force that the chair rocked backward and a hiss of pain escaped him. Rick was there immediately, slapping a pair of handcuffs on one wrist and the arm of the chair before the front legs had even hit the floor again.

The feel of that cold metal against his wrist caused his mind to go blank with fear and his breath to unconsciously quicken; for a moment he couldn't even think, couldn't even consider the situation he was in. He didn't even realize it when he made a soft noise of distress. All he knew was that he was about to be held down and that he couldn't let them do it; not in a place like this, not with a person like Hale. The terror he'd felt for years of being held down had only strengthened into outright panic after his time with Shane.

He automatically struggled, jerking up nearly to a stand and hurting his own wrist as he yanked on his arm. He was able to get his feet underneath him but before he could steady himself, Dana was at his side and with more strength than expected she used the angle and momentum of her body to shove him; the back of his knees hit the chair, causing them to buckle as he started to topple backward. He threw his free hand out to steady himself and she grabbed his wrist painfully at the same time that Rick grabbed the back of his shirt and jerked him back so hard that the cloth scrunched up, digging into his throat.

Boyd tried to yank away from them even in that awkward position but Rick shoved him toward Dana even as she shifted her weight and used the strength of her stance to add power as she twisted and bodily slammed Boyd's arm down to the chair arm. Rick pressed one rough hand against Boyd's sternum to further hold him in place while he leaned forward and, as quickly and efficiently as Archer had in the van, used another pair of handcuffs to lock Boyd's other hand to the chair.

It all happened quickly, barely a few breaths of time. Dana backed off, breathing just a little heavily but Rick stayed by Boyd's side for a moment, staring down at him intently as he waited to see if he'd have to subdue him further.

Boyd grit his teeth and closed his eyes, his head tilted down and his hands automatically curling into fists. He was breathing heavily, partially from exertion but mostly from fear, and it took effort to even be able to come back to himself. It took him a moment to come to the conclusion that he couldn't afford to show any more weaknesses or give them further ideas of what truly did scare him because then it would only be used against him. He grabbed onto that thought and the logic of it and tried to concentrate on the mission instead of his fear. He forced his hands to loosen though he couldn't help pulling on his wrists experimentally to see how strong the wood of the chair was, to see whether there was even a hope of him somehow managing to break away. The only thing that happened was the handcuffs cinched tighter with a clicking sound as his wrists ached.

Part of him felt the pain against his wrists like a reawakening of his fear that only grew; he couldn't move, he couldn't fight back, they had his arms held down and he'd never be able to get away. Not until they were through with him anyway. They were going to hurt him, make him scream, possibly kill him-- But another part reasoned that his legs were still free and could hurt someone, that he was held to a chair but he wasn't being held completely down against the floor or a bed, and most importantly that in the struggle they'd only had time to single-lock the handcuffs and if he was lucky they wouldn't double-lock them. He still had a chance of possibly getting away, as long as he hadn't dropped that paper clip, as long as he could work on it discreetly. As long as they didn't incapacitate him first.

Boyd stayed very still and forced his breath to even out. He left his fingers curled as he rocked his wrists against the handcuffs under the pretense of testing them once more when in reality he was searching for and hoping to loosen the paper clip beneath his sleeve. He stayed silent because there was nothing to say and he also wasn't certain he could fully trust his voice not to betray some vestiges of fear.

Rick studied him mercilessly but apparently deemed him no longer a threat because he stepped back, waiting for further instructions.

"Do you understand why I had them do that?" Hale asked in the same tone, eyes finally turned on Boyd again as they drank in the pallor of his skin and the slight sheen of sweat that had broken out on his forehead. "I want you to know why everything that is going to happen, happens. I want you to understand how this will be."

At first Boyd didn't answer. Hale's tone was too pleasant, too even; Boyd could tell he was enjoying the situation, enjoying doing this to him, seeing him panic. Disgust rose within him; with the situation, with the man, but this wasn't the time. They still saw him as Kadin Reed and especially in such a compromised position it was imperative they continued to believe so. Even if Kadin was on Janus' hit list at the moment, he couldn't imagine the consequences for traitors would be worse than what would be in store for him if Hale realized he was actually an undercover agent from an American government agency.

So, with more effort than he cared to admit it took, he forced himself to concentrate entirely on acting like Kadin. He did his best to ignore the handcuffs tight against his wrists, or the feeling of vulnerability from being disabled in a room with three very alert and strong enemies. He darted his eyes around the room. The action was primarily to play up the fumbling nervousness of Kadin Reed but he had to admit that he wanted just a few more seconds to get his reaction further under control so the fear wouldn't be as evident in his eyes. Kadin would be afraid in this situation, any sane person would be in his position, so if he slipped up it would probably be fine; at the same time, he doubted that Kadin's fear even in the face of being branded a traitor to Janus and the consequences that would follow would necessarily be equal to the disproportionate terror that Boyd felt at the idea of being confined.

"You prob'ly didn't want me running away," he said finally and looked up at Hale. "But really, man, I swear I won't. I coulda run any time with Rick and Dana and I didn't, right?"

"No," Hale replied flatly. "That is not the reason." He stood and walked around the desk, leaning against the edge of it as he stared down at Boyd. "The reason for binding you is that when we begin to interrogate you, depending on the method, it will be easier for all parties involved if for the time being you are unable to move. Typically I do not handle such things in my office but I only mean this as a preliminary meeting to find out the basics before I decide that you are being uncooperative and need stronger encouragement."

Boyd stared at him. "...That makes it sound like you already decided I'm uncooperative."

Hale shrugged elegantly and walked around his desk again, opening a drawer. He pulled out a file and flipped through it for a moment before extracting the sheaf of papers that he wanted and tossing it across the desk so that it was in Boyd's range of vision. It had an image of Boyd in his Kadin Reed disguise with various personal information and what seemed to be details surrounding the time he'd disappeared. Before closing the drawer, Hale pulled out what appeared to be a long, thin, razor-sharp letter opener and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at Boyd once again.

"That's because I have. From what I heard of your ridiculous story, it doesn't do anything more than insult the intelligence of those in this room and Janus as a whole." He moved closer again, this time extending his arm and gently caressing Boyd's face with the edge of the blade. "The facts on that sheet of paper are few. All we knew was that you attended the conference, were seen speaking to many people there and that when the explosions began, you disappeared and a man fitting your description was seen fleeing the convention center. What we gathered from this was that if it was you, you fled in fear because you did not know what was going on. However when months passed and we and the group you come from claimed not to have heard from you, you immediately came under suspicion. So either you're lying to us or your commander is lying to us. Which one is it?"

Boyd started to tilt his head away from the blade but Rick snapped one arm out and grabbed a chunk of his hair to hold him still. His scalp twinged sharply in pain and he allowed a wince to cross his face in the pretense of being more vulnerable than he actually felt. Although being denied one more type of movement made his heartbeat automatically quicken and it certainly didn't help that Hale had a blade anywhere near him.

He jerked his hands against the handcuffs briefly, as if he'd unconsciously tried to raise his hands and had forgotten he couldn't, although the true reason was that he needed to get the fuck out of this situation fast and without his hands free he was in trouble. He'd thought the paper clip may have been caught on the fabric inside his sleeve so he'd hoped the movement would loosen it; thankfully, when he dropped his arms back down to the chair he was just barely able to feel the paper clip had slid down and caught between his wrist and the handcuff. He started working it into a better position for him to unbend it. He had to be extremely careful not to draw attention to his fingers which meant the process was far slower than he wanted it to be but if they discovered he had the paper clip they would take it away and with it the only chance he currently had for escape.

His mind raced as he tried to decide on an explanation. His story had to be believable enough that he could keep it going as a distraction while he worked on his handcuffs; at the same time, if he tried bullshitting them too much it would be obvious. They could then discover more quickly who he truly was or presume that he was stalling for a reason. They were intelligent enough to come to the conclusion that he was distracting them for a reason and that the reason could very well be to keep their attention from going elsewhere on the property. That could conceivably result in Hale putting the place on alert for other intruders which would not only endanger Sin but also Thierry and the mission.

But he really didn't have a good explanation and he'd made a mistake earlier by saying he'd contacted 53. It had been stupid of him to say that; yet he hadn't expected to be caught or recognized as Kadin Reed after so long and he hadn't thought to create a believable alibi ahead of time. Maybe he just hadn't been on missions in a long enough time that now he was making all these simple but resounding mistakes. Now he would have to say he'd lied in order to protect 53 from Janus' wrath, but at the same time if he admitted to lying about one part that just opened it up for them to demand what else he'd lied about. Everything he'd say would continue to be discredited and disbelieved. Although as long as they continued to believe he was Kadin Reed he was safer than if they realized he was not; he just had to stay Kadin and in tact long enough to get away.

"I--" Boyd glanced toward Dana as if he was looking to her for help but she was watching impassively. At least that glance told him that she didn't seem to be in as good a position to see his hand as the other two. He looked back toward Hale and tried to lean away from him toward Rick as he said nervously, as if he'd been caught in a lie and was now afraid of the consequences, "I mean, I-- I may have exaggerated a little. About contacting them. But I won't be uncooperative, man-- uh, sir-- really... You don't have to bring me anywhere else."

"Mmm." The blade dug into Boyd's face deeper and blood began to pool slightly around the edge, dripping down his face. "How exactly did you exaggerate?"

Boyd automatically tried to lean away from the blade but Rick tightened his hold and dropped his other hand down to Boyd's shoulder in a silent warning. Hale's expression didn't change but he pressed the blade more firmly into Boyd's skin and dragged it down slightly to show that he was serious.

Making a distressed noise that he was only partially faking, Boyd tried to ignore the blood that was starting to drip down his face and the alarmed, constricted feeling from being unable to move. "That-- That I contacted them... at all..." He could feel the paper clip starting to unbend on the first curve but it was at an awkward angle he'd have to straighten out. "I knew they'd be pissed at me for getting scared like that and... and not making things better with Janus. I didn't want them to kick me out so I thought if I got in good with you it'd be okay. I was gonna contact them after this, I swear."

"Okay," Hale said slowly, drawing the word out as he removed the blade from Boyd's face. "Even if that was true, even if you waited until now to make a move because of how aggressive the authorities were until recently, how could you possibly know to find me here and why wouldn't have anyone informed me of your arrival once you showed up at the gates?"

"I dunno man, I really don't," Boyd babbled fervently, flicking his gaze toward the blade and then Dana as if he was afraid that Hale would cut him again or order her to hurt him if he didn't cooperate well enough. Dana was staring intently at his face, seeming as though she was scrutinizing him for any hint that he was lying. Although that was unnerving because he was lying, it was also really good because that meant the only person who could possibly be looking at his hand right then was Rick. "I mean, it took me a long time to find it..." Since Rick was behind him, Boyd couldn't see where he was looking, so he shifted uneasily which caused Rick to push down harder. Boyd could feel Rick's glare centered on the back of his head as if he was annoyed at the constant movement but it effectively put all their attention away from his hand.

"I swear, sir, that's part of why it took so long, 'cause I had to figure out who to ask." He could feel the paper clip yielding beneath his fingers but he could only go by touch; he hoped it would be straight enough to use. "And, like, I was really paranoid 'cause I didn't know what'd happened at the convention center or who'd done it... But eventually I found a guy who told me." He flipped the paper clip around so it was facing the handcuffs and considered how to do this without making even the slightest hint of noise with metal against metal. "I dunno his real name, he wouldn't tell me, I swear--"

Before he could get any farther with his tale, Rick and Dana's radios crackled to life and an alarmed man's voice shouted: "Back up needed in the North building! We have an intruder and a man down!"

Hale's cool gaze snapped away from Boyd's face and for the first time the man looked visibly put off. His eyebrows drew down and his lips thinned before his glare focused on Boyd once again. His expression was frozen over and the calm indifference had morphed into genuine anger. "Find out what they're talking about," he bit out sharply. "Was it this intruder or is there another?"

Rick, whose face had hardened considerably even as his hand tightened violently on Boyd, raised his radio. "Is the intruder in your sights?" There was no response and Boyd could feel the tension in the room grow considerably the longer it took for the man to reply. After a moment Rick scowled and repeated the question but once again there was no immediate response.

Hale growled impatiently and snatched the radio away from Rick, his eyes leaving Boyd for the moment. "One intruder is already detained; is there a second?"

Sin's voice said suddenly, "I have Thierry and I'm moving out now," and with the timing, for a moment Boyd almost thought Sin had answered over the radio but then he realized it had transmitted into his ear. Although it was a relief to hear Sin had located Thierry, Boyd still had to get out of this situation and he had no way of answering or acknowledging Sin's message.

Rick's radio buzzed with white noise for a moment then flipped back to transmission. Boyd didn't know if the man replied because he had the opportunity or because he recognized his boss' voice but it didn't take long for him to radio back a confused jumble of words. "Men down-- North Build-- intruder--" Each transmission was abruptly cut off and spoken in harried tones before nothing else was said. Hale's face darkened as he focused on the radio, giving Boyd all the distraction he needed to work more effectively on the cuffs.

"Repeat," he barked into the radio. When nothing happened he shot Rick an irritated glare. "Go over there and find out what the hell is going on. Radio me immediately."

Rick nodded curtly and was already out the door, yelling into his radio, "Jones! Did you back up North? What the hell's happening?" The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off much of the noise of his radio although Dana's was still emitting random bursts of static as Rick demanded answers over it that weren't received.

Boyd could feel the teeth of the handcuffs catching on the paper clip but it kept slipping past the catch. This was the first time he'd ever been relieved to find out Sin failed at being stealthy and had raised the alarm, but even the cover noise of the radio wasn't going to do him any good if he couldn't get out. And if he didn't escape soon, Hale looked ready to torture the truth out of him. There was no longer any reason to pretend to be Kadin; at this point he would only be making it worse for 53 by implying they'd either been too incompetent to realize they'd had a traitor in their midst or they'd purposefully sent someone to the JKS meeting that would betray Janus. And if Janus believed Kadin Reed was that traitor, they would hunt him down, possibly even finding the real Kadin in Hawaii. This was the time for damage control.

Dana moved closer to Boyd's side and glared at him but then looked to Hale for orders. He paid her little attention though as he turned back to Boyd, looking irritated by what was going on. He'd been doubtful of Boyd from the start so it was likely that he was more irritated that one or more people had not only managed to infiltrate his property but to also kill his guards. "I think it's time you stop playing this game," He said flatly. "But if you want to continue with your story, we can find other means of getting the truth out of you and then if you are not alone, I will do the same to your partner. It wouldn't be the first time."

Boyd stared at him a moment then completely dropped any Kadin mannerisms. The change was rather significant; in a blink his expression went from being anxious and emotive to unreadable and calm, the tension drained from his body, and he seemed unimpressed. He looked more like someone sitting in a chair that happened to have handcuffs than someone who had been so afraid he'd been willing to ramble endlessly to get himself out of being a prisoner. Although he still felt anxiety at being tied to the chair, there was no reason to let Hale know that. It also helped to be able to be able to act more like himself; it somehow made it easier to be in mission mode, which also made it easier to ignore extraneous emotions.

He had to pause briefly working on the handcuffs because the movement of his hand would be too obvious but as soon as they were paying more attention to his words or other actions he would start again. His eyes narrowed and he said coolly, "I'm perfectly aware of what you're capable of. You already killed my partner."

Dana's eyes widened slightly at the admission and at the abrupt change in attitude but Hale almost looked pleased that the charade was finally over. "He killed my niece; I felt it was an even exchange."

"Killed her?" Boyd echoed. "He saved her."

"I suppose in a metaphorical way you could say he saved her from the evils of this world by putting a bullet in her head but I'm afraid that doesn't fly with me." The words came out cold, unemotional, but there was no denying the anger that briefly flared in Hale's eyes as he recalled the incident. Boyd's eyes briefly widened at the knowledge that Sin had killed Jessica but he didn't have the chance to think about it at that moment. "So what's your story now, Reed? Or should we just skip this entirely--" He nodded at Dana, who grabbed Boyd's hair and yanked his head back violently. "And get right to it?" The blade, which had almost been forgotten during the radio exchange, swung out in an arc and cut into the white flesh at Boyd's throat. It was a painful wound, one that bled out immediately and heavily, but it was superficial and just centimeters away from his jugular, something that he doubted was an accident. Hale would kill him when he was done with him, just like he had with Sin.

Doubt and fear made his heart beat faster and he once again found himself trying to lean away from Hale. While they were focused on his face, he started discreetly working on the handcuff again, feeling his fingers begin to shake each time the damn clip slipped past the catch. He was used to working with safety pins, with a thinner tip, and part of him was really starting to fear that paper clips with their blunt end wouldn't work, that his only chance for escape was going to fail him. Without even one hand free he also wouldn't be able to radio to Sin for help; the transmitter was tiny and tucked in his ear beneath his hair and the button was too small for him to be able to touch if he tried using his shoulder. His face and throat hurt from where Rick and Hale had already gotten to him and his blood felt warm and distracting against his skin.

A spike of true fear moved through him at the knowledge that he may die here. This was different than before; other rebels he had dealt with hadn't been as astute. And even when he'd been in danger on missions, it had usually been a case where they would have just killed him; a bullet to the head and it would have been over. Even if Sin had killed Jessica accidentally (Boyd knew there was no other way it could have happened), Hale's revenge had been disproportionately cruel. Boyd would probably never be able to forget what Sin had looked like at the end of that mission but now he imagined himself in that state instead, which was a chilling thought.

Even though Sin had found Thierry, how long would it take him to realize Boyd wasn't coming out to meet him? Hale knew there may be another intruder; how long would it take him to incapacitate Boyd completely, or to kill him? Of course, he wouldn't kill Boyd easily; he would probably do it slowly, painfully, making certain Boyd knew how helpless he was to stop it. How long would it take Sin to even find this place? Boyd had known the blueprints perfectly, he had known where to look for an entrance, and even he had found it difficult. Sin wouldn't have a clue. Would Sin leave Thierry somewhere and run around the building only to end up finding Boyd the way Boyd had found him in Monterrey? If even Sin had been so decimated by what this man was capable of doing, Boyd knew he stood no chance. Not even on his best day or in his best frame of mind, but especially not now on his first mission back with so many other things still too close to the surface of his mind.

He didn't know if he could pull this off. He had a contingency story but he didn't know if Hale would believe it. If Hale recognized this for a lie as well, he didn't know what else he'd be able to say. He had no choice, though; all he could do was be as convincing as possible and hope to fuck the paper clip would be effective.

"I'm not Kadin Reed," he said, keeping his eyes firmly on the blade. He could feel the paper clip slide more firmly against the catch and for a second his heart leaped as he would be successful but then it slid past again. He didn't let the brief hope or the following disappointment make it to his expression though; instead, he tried to appear as confident as possible. There was no reason for Clemons to know how terrified he actually was; not when it would probably drive whatever pleasure he derived from these situations. "I killed him before he ever made it to the convention center." He could feel Dana's grip tighten convulsively in his hair at the admission but he didn't look away from Hale to see her expression.

"So the truth comes out," Hale drawled softly and the way his face turned from anger to understanding, as if realization had just dawned on him, left very little doubt that for some reason this explanation made something click in his mind. "No wonder Reed's commander claimed that all contact had ceased directly before he was set to arrive."

The fact that the explanation was a lie didn't matter; it was probably something that had already occurred to Hale or maybe even the Janus inner circle, as to who could have possibly been behind the attack. The possibility that one of the many representatives had been murdered and replaced with an enemy wasn't exactly an outlandish idea after all and Boyd was relieved that the credibility of the story wasn't questioned further. It meant Reed would have to change his identity and stay in hiding but at least 53 as a whole would be safe. Kadin's "death" had always been a possibility and a deal regarding that had already been worked out between he and the Agency long ago.

"At first we suspected it may be a traitor within our organization, possibly even from the people who were invited to the orientation but then that man showed up... that strange, stubborn man who was so very obviously a trained killer and someone very resistant to pain, and we couldn't link him to anyone in our ranks, anyone we could have ever dealt with. We wondered what group he was from, who he was with, but he wouldn't say. He was very strong; very stubborn." Hale tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes at Boyd again. "Maybe you'll be easier to break and we'll find out exactly which group that French fuck sold us out to."

Dana jerked his head back further, making the cut on his throat throb with pain, but Boyd only narrowed his eyes. "Don't bet on it," he said firmly.

Hale's grip shifted on the letter opener but before he could do anything else a resounding blast echoed in the distance. It was muffled by the building and the room didn't shake which implied it was probably across the property, but it was followed immediately by the sound of rapid gunfire. Hale and Dana's attention snapped toward the sound and with the distraction Boyd was able to move his fingers at a more obvious angle as he shoved the paper clip toward the catch. He felt it stick and for a moment it almost slipped past again but finally the lock clicked open, the sound drowned by the distant noise.

Several things happened nearly at once. Hale's expression tightened in anger and he looked at Dana even as she let go of Boyd's hair and stepped forward. She yanked the radio to her mouth and demanded, "Rick! Status."

Adrenaline rushed through Boyd as he twisted his wrist to get the cuff to fall open. He reacted instantly; Dana was standing near enough that with his free hand he yanked her injured arm down to slam it on the side of the chair. She was too surprised to catch herself and she dropped the radio, yelling in pain. Boyd was too quick even with one hand still cuffed to the chair; without giving her a chance to react or Hale to get closer, he shifted his hold and wrenched her arm up behind her back, forcing her down and around as he jumped up and twisted out of the way. He violently slammed her head against the seat of the chair with all his strength; a crack echoed alarmingly in the room and blood smeared across the wood. She started to go limp, her free arm going toward the floor to catch herself rather than toward him for defense, but he wasn't taking chances. He yanked her gun out of her belt and slammed his foot on the small of her back, shoving her down so abruptly that her head snapped forward and hit the floor as well. Dana lay unmoving at his feet although it was unlikely that she was actually dead.

The gun was already whipped around and trained on the space between Hale's eyes before the other man had the chance to move more than a step. Boyd stood awkwardly because of his remaining cuffed wrist but it didn't make him appear any less deadly. His expression was cold and dangerous as he ordered, "Give me the key."

Hale's eyebrow twitched and although he seemed displeased with the change in their positions, his demeanor didn't change drastically. He watched Boyd calmly, as if he were trying to decide how serious he was, and seemed to come to a conclusion after a tense moment. Muffled gunfire could still be heard somewhere outside of the building and Hale's mouth drew down in a frown as he finally extracted a set of keys from his pocket and dangled them in front of Boyd's face.

Boyd stared at him a moment then suddenly jerked the gun down and shot Hale in the knee. Hale cried out in pain and surprise, dropping to the floor; the keys clattered to the floor but remained just out of Boyd's reach. He looked down at Hale impassively as he curled around his knee; the wound made it impossible for him to use that leg in an attempt to escape.

Dragging the chair with him to get closer, Boyd calmly set the gun down on the chair and grabbed the keys. His attention remained on Hale as he unlocked the handcuffs; when his hand was finally free he picked up the gun and aimed it at Hale again. "Who is your superior?" Boyd asked him coolly. "Where is Janus' headquarters located?"

Hale looked up at him and somehow managed to look incredulous through the pained expression on his face. "Be serious."

Boyd considered him. He had never seriously expected Hale to answer; he'd asked partially because if he didn't it would look bad in the report and partially so that when Hale refused to comply he had one more reason to shoot him again. His eyes narrowed instead. "If my partner hadn't killed your niece, would you still have tortured him to the same extent?"

Hale's expression didn't change and he seemed unmoved by the question. "Does it matter?"

"I'm asking the questions," Boyd said, his expression unreadable.

Hale thought about it for a moment; Boyd didn't know whether he was considering what the answer was or if he was just deciding whether to be truthful or not. Finally, he said point blank, "No."

Boyd stared at him for a long moment, feeling a mess of emotions from the answer, from what that meant. But when he stopped to think about it more deeply than the flare of anger at the reply, he found himself overcome with disgust; with himself, with Hale, with the situation.

He'd been so angry with Hale for what had happened, for what he'd done to Sin, for what that had done to him, that he'd wanted to make Hale suffer for it. He'd wanted to shoot him multiple times in places that wouldn't kill him immediately; just to toy with him, just to make him see what it fucking felt like to be vulnerable like that, to feel that pain, to be that afraid and to know he was going to die. To force him to experience that helplessness, something similar but not to the extent he'd made Sin and others go through, the same thing he would have put Boyd through. He'd wanted to see Hale's face twist in agony, in fear, in anything that would make Boyd's darker part feel satisfied that Hale hadn't died easily, that he was paying for what he'd done.

And maybe he would have been able to if that hadn't been the answer, if he hadn't known that it had been Sin's bullet that killed Jessica and not that she just happened to die when he was around. He'd been wondering why Sin's involvement would have resulted in Hale being so bloodthirsty but now it made sense. Hale had only done that to Sin because Sin had killed Jessica. Even if her death had been an accident, even if Hale had been disproportionately cruel to Sin in 'exchange,' he had ultimately tortured Sin through a sense of revenge.

This entire situation had started because Boyd had acted like Connors, as Sin had said; because Boyd had weighed and considered the lives involved in the mission the same way he considered facts in a mission plan, like it was an equation. He'd been angry over something petty so he'd thought that justified someone dying.

Even after he'd known Jessica had died he'd thought of it as, 'she was the only one who died and yet Sin had to suffer like that?' It was 'only' her life lost. Rick's words went through his mind; 'Seeing someone you cared about die makes it okay for you to not hold anyone's life as meaningful anymore? ... family to someone; someone else's sister, someone else's brother.' If he reduced her existence to an 'only' statement, then one could also think of it as Lou had 'only' been a street punk and Sin was 'only' a 'monster.' They weren't 'only' anything to Boyd; they were fucking important, they meant everything to him. Sin meant everything to him.

Boyd had wanted to mock Hale; he'd wanted to call him a fucking idiot, that he'd punished the wrong person -- after all, he'd tortured Sin because he'd accidentally killed Jessica, but Sin had been the one who'd saved her in the building, he'd been the one who'd had the ability to care about a civilian in that situation. If only Hale had known that Boyd had been the one who had tried to tell Sin to just let her die a horrible death because they shouldn't be bothered to go out of their way to help her. If only Hale had known he'd had that person at his mercy as well and he hadn't taken advantage of the situation. And now that same person who didn't give a shit about his precious niece was aiming a gun at him. It had seemed ironic and Boyd had wanted to tell him that, to see his expression, to see if it changed with the knowledge that Boyd had tried to order Sin to leave her. Because Boyd was lacking something necessary within him; something that Sin had, something that Kassian had, something that Rick and Dana and people on all sides of the war probably had but he didn't. He didn't know if it was compassion or morality but he'd been forced to realize it wasn't there.

If he went through with this now... If he tortured Hale the way he'd intended to, how would that make him any different than Hale? Hale loved Jessica as family and when she'd died he'd taken it out on her killer through sadistic revenge. Yet Jessica had seemed to genuinely like Sin. It made Boyd wonder what she would have said if she'd known what Hale had done in her name. What he'd used her death as an excuse to do to a person she'd once cared about.

Boyd loved Sin, so if he did the same thing now, if he tortured Hale as best he could in the circumstances and amount of time he had, what the fuck would he be accomplishing? Would Sin thank him later when he had to detail this in the report? No. He would probably be disgusted. How could Boyd do that to Sin? To himself? Even to Hale? Even if he hated Hale for what he'd done and what had happened, he wasn't about to let himself become Hale to get back at him. The man was a sadistic bastard and he could remain one until death; Boyd didn't want to become one in the process.

If love and jealousy could hurt so many people and fuck so many things up, then at least he could keep from skewing those emotions again and using them as reasoning for his mistakes. He had to treat Hale the same way he would treat any other enemy in this situation.

Boyd's teeth gritted and for a moment he felt a strong emotion moving through him; he didn't know if it was pain, or disappointment, or relief, but it was there and it caused him to briefly slide his eyes closed and tilt his head forward. He knew Hale would not be able to go anywhere and there were no weapons near enough for him to lash out but he still opened them almost immediately. Hale was watching him, as unperturbed and unaffected as he could be with his knee demolished and blood spreading across the floor. Boyd almost resented him for existing; for being someone he now had to kill in a manner he hadn't intended.

"Fuck," he whispered and without giving himself a chance to think further he shot Hale between the eyes.

Hale's head snapped back as gore and blood sprayed out behind him and his body crumpled lifelessly to the floor. Boyd stared down at his corpse for a moment, feeling sickened and tired and uncertain with so many things, then looked over at Dana. She was crumpled awkwardly on the floor but he could see she was still breathing. Even so, with a head wound like he'd given her it would only be a matter of time before she bled out if she didn't get help. He had to leave; even with Hale dead and Sin causing a ruckus elsewhere, there were still plenty of people that could catch him on the way out and delay him from securing an escape vehicle. At the same time...

He moved to her side quickly and flipped her onto her back so she wouldn't suffocate in a pool of her own blood. He quickly patted her down and discovered a length of cloth in one of her many pockets; she seemed the sort to be prepared so he was unsurprised to realize she had something that could be used to tie off a wound. It didn't take him long to get that around her head to try to slow the bleeding; he then grabbed her gun and the items they'd confiscated from him. He left her radio for her in case she woke up and needed to call for help. He didn't even bother to check he room for anything else; not only did he not have time, but he also knew that Hale and the others had been intelligent enough not to have brought a possible traitor into an office that would have anything of import inside.

He was out the door and down the hall in seconds; even as he sprinted, he considered what he knew of the layout of the rest of the building and what he'd seen so far of the hidden wing and made the most educated guesses he could as to where a more easily accessible exit would be. His first guess was a dead end but he luckily did not have to backtrack long before he guessed correctly. He hadn't run into anyone in the hidden wing, which led him to believe that the majority of the guards had run to the fight in the north building and if they'd heard Hale state one intruder was already detained they'd probably figured that Hale wouldn't need their help or the building was already clear.

When he finally made it outside, he was briefly shocked by the amount of water that was rushing across the ground in rivulets. It was raining so heavily that the downpour had reduced visibility enough that he couldn't see across the entire compound. The sky was pitch black and between the darkness of the night and the intensity of the rain, the lights dotted across the complex seemed dim and distant. He'd known it was raining but he hadn't realized it was this heavy.

He took a few seconds to survey the surrounding area as best he could for enemies but he didn't see anyone. The gunfire sounded louder out here, resounding cracks that blended with occasional thunder; it echoed around him, making it difficult to tell exactly where it was coming from. He ran along the perimeter of the building and veered off at one point for his first destination. He stopped quickly to grab the med kit he'd hidden deep inside some bushes when he'd first arrived; he hadn't carried it with him into Hale's house because it would have been too bulky to hide in a pocket, yet he'd brought it from the Agency because he'd assumed they would probably need it. With the med kit firmly in hand, he ran toward the nearest garage to search for a vehicle.

He nearly ran into two guards along the way but he fell back into shadows each time, letting the men run past as they headed toward the northern building.

The first garage he found was empty of vehicles and people but when he slipped into the second through a half-open back door he discovered several vehicles and a small office to the side with Darren staring anxiously and a bit angrily at his radio. Darren seemed to be waiting for further instructions or information and Boyd knew that he wanted to be over there helping the others, in the thick of probably the only excitement he'd ever experienced here. But knowing also how Dana and Rick had reacted to his name, Boyd suspected he was the sort of ally the others preferred to be out of the way when something serious was happening.

He'd probably been detailed to the garage in case any intruders came looking for an escape vehicle. But Darren didn't want to be there any more than he'd wanted to be wandering the empty halls of the building, and for that reason he once more failed to catch Boyd when he otherwise would have had the chance. With Darren so distracted and so much intermittent noise from outside, it was quite easy for Boyd to silently slip behind him and pistol whip him. Darren didn't even have the chance to turn around before he fell to the ground.

Boyd looked quickly around the office and noticed a box on the wall with keys to various cars. It made sense in a way; with so many employees coming in and going out of the property, the vehicles were likely communal instead of designated to specific people. Boyd grabbed all the sets with keyless entry and moved out of the office and further into the garage where he could see the vehicles. He quickly used the lock/unlock buttons to determine which key belonged to which car but it took slightly longer than expected because of the noise outside. The alarm button would have been faster but it also would have made a lot more noise and would have drawn attention to the garage.

The best vehicle for their purpose seemed to be a sturdy SUV in the far corner of the garage. Boyd quickly ran to the vehicle and got inside, taking a moment to get acquainted with the set up. There was something about the SUV that didn't seem entirely normal though; the outside sound was muffled more than usual and the door had been heavier than he'd expected as he shut it, which gave the impression that it was reinforced. But the vehicle started normally, the gas tank was thankfully full, he was able to find the windshield wipers, and that was really all that mattered. He kept the extra keys with him and threw them to the floor of the passenger side; hopefully it would drastically slow down any pursuit from vehicles in the garage at least. He found a garage door opener tucked up beneath the visor and pressed the button immediately. It took a bit of maneuvering to get the SUV out from the back of the garage and around the other vehicles, but the garage was large and set up specifically for multiple rows of vehicles so it wasn't too difficult to do. He sped out of the garage into the rain, already turning the wipers on full speed.

"I have a vehicle," Boyd transmitted to Sin. "Where are you?"

It took a moment for the reply to come but when it did, Sin sounded entirely too calm considering the ruckus he was making. "Northwest corner, behind the pool house."

Boyd spun the SUV around and sped straight across the middle of the complex, not bothering to go along the perimeter. Most of the people were already distracted and it was more important he get to Sin and Thierry immediately rather than trying to be stealthy at this point. A few guards saw him speeding past but in the chaos of the moment and the low visibility, they didn't seem to know at first whether he was an enemy or an ally, especially since he was in one of their vehicles and no alert had come out from the garages. They largely ignored him and he was able to disappear into the rain, nearly fishtailing the SUV as he took an abrupt turn around the building next to the pool house.

It was raining so hard that the yard was a mess of slippery mud and deep puddles and the few paved paths arcing across the complex had a layer of water over them that would make it easy to hydroplane. Although the headlights barely gave him any visibility, it still cast light across the landscaping and open area behind the pool house. He couldn't see Sin or Thierry but he still slammed on the brakes and unlocked the doors.

Less than a minute passed before Sin's tall lanky figure appeared out of the shadows, sprinting towards the SUV and dragging a thoroughly soaked and barefoot Thierry behind him. They were both blood splattered and dirty but Thierry seemed to be in a state of confused shock. As soon as they were out in the open, a barrage of gunfire sliced through the sheets of rain, missing them by centimeters as they crossed the stretch of grass between the pool house and the car. Thierry seemed to be simultaneously clinging to Sin and trying not to get too close to him if that were possible but when they finally jumped in the back seat, his eyes widened in relief at the sight of Boyd. Boyd didn't know if he was genuinely happy to see him or if he was just glad that he would no longer have to be alone with Sin; judging from the rough way Sin was handling the man, it didn't seem as though they were very pleased with each other.

There was a slight pause in gunfire before it all redirected to the SUV as Boyd peeled out of the fenced pool area, ripping up the finely manicured grass in the process. Mud and water flew up everywhere, splattering against the windows and doors as he drove full speed towards the Southern end of the property. There was loud yelling outside as the operatives most likely attempted to organize themselves and as Boyd drove past the garage, he saw several men making their way inside of it. They would be in for a surprise when they found no keys to start