Realted History: Our villian, in this next case, has a past with the X-files division. To better understand this history, reach into the file cabinet and pull out XF#73310-S093095 "The Game"
It is STRONGLY recommended that all participants read "At the Edge"before Simming.
*TEASER*
June 26, 9:02 MST
"Tonight, on Americaís Most Wanted:"
The search is on for the man the FBI is calling "the most ruthless mass
murderer the nation has ever seen".
"He has claimed responsibility for hundreds of deaths, from plane crashes, train accidents, and arson, to the Branch Davidian incident. He is wanted for at least ten counts of murder, kidnapping, terrorism, and weapons charges in both the U.S. and Mexico."
"Tonight, federal authorities are asking for YOUR help to bring Alan Berston to justice."
"Jesus," Special Agent Mike Fledge breathed. "You believe this?" His companions, Special Agents Saren Vartian and Thor Williams, shook their heads in unison, barely taking their eyes from the TV over the bar. Most of the other patrons of "Larry's" paid little attention to the TV, as the noise from the conversations, the pool tables and the jukebox mingled into a constant distraction. This little bar and grill, situated near the I-40 in Tucumcari, New Mexico was oblivious to Berston's record. But the three agents had heard stories of the man from many of the other agents who had been attacked by him.
"Let's get back to the motel and call Drami," Saren offered, dropping a twenty on the table before collecting her purse and rising. Thor and Mike followed, hurrying out to the rented car and speeding out of the parking lot. The sky was still pink in the west from where the sun was setting when they arrived at the smallish motel. They didn't have to call in, since they weren't "officially" on the case, and Senior Agent Jonson was on suspension, but their loyalty was unquestionable. Drami had been part of the first Berston case... maybe she knew if HE could've killed Indus and Terrance.
As the three climbed out, Thor suddenly heaved against the car, spraying his lifeís blood across the passenger windows and roof. Mike and Saren instinctively took cover behind the open doors of the car as Williams' body crashed to the gravel of the parking lot. Not sure if he was alive or dead, Vartian scrambled across the back seat trying to reach the downed agent. Fledge had his service pistol out, but was vainly searching the nearby buildings for signs of an attacker.
Two cracks pierced the relative silence, and Mike witnessed the two web-like patterns that appeared in the windshield. He heard a noise from the backseat, but couldnít take the time to check on it, for he had seen the muzzle flash on the roof of the motel and was returning fire.
After emptying his weapon, Mike eased around the open door to check on Saren. She was hit twice, and was either dead or dying. "C'mon Vartian", he pleaded, checking her fading vital signs while keeping as low as possible. From his position on the floor of the backseat, he could see that Thor wasnít breathing.
The crunch of gravel snapped Mikeís head up over the seat, gun at the ready. Someone silhouetted by the lights of the motel sign was asking if he was all right.
"Call an ambulance!" Mike shouted, lowering his pistol and turning back to Saren. He heard the person curse softly, apparently catching sight of Vartian, and move around to help.
"I said, call an am..." Mike began, but suddenly found himself unable to finish... choking.
The shadowy figure let the knife fall from blood-slickened hands, watching bemusedly as Fledge tried to breath through his ruined neck. Calmly, the assailant rummaged around the three bodies, then pressed a hand against the driver's window and slipped back into the night as the sirens sounded in the distance...
The Special Operations offices are a somber place today. Memorial services for Agent Indus and Agent Terrance are this morning, and the mood in the office is subdued, at best. None of the usual morning banter or conversations, just quiet tension and anticipation. The entrance of Assistant Director Skinner doesn't lighten the mood any.
"Everyone, can I have your attention?" he begins, clearing his throat and setting a file folder down on the table, "I know you're in a hurry to get to the services, so I'll make this brief.
"X-File Division Agents Fledge, Vartian, and Williams were found slain outside of a motel in New Mexico last night. We believe by the same assailant that killed Indus and Terrance... Alan Berston. His fingerprints were left at the scene..."
"Damn!" Jakes curses, slamming his fist down in frustration and anger.
"For reasons unknown," Skinner continues, "he seems to be hunting down members of the X-files divison. Also, it was brought to my attention that Berston was featured on 'America's Most Wanted' last evening. I only just found out about that this morning."
"Do the others know?" Abbe asks, implying the X-Files Division... the `old' offices.
"I don't think so, Agent Beck." Skinner replies. A few questions follow, but Skinner continues.
"Although I have other divisons working on this case, due to your familarity with Berston and the Agents of the X-files division, I am assigning you to protection detail. I am assuming that most of the agents will be at today's services."
"I expect you to offer protection," he says as he turns the folder over to Beck. "I forsee some possible... conficts... with this assignment. I expect you to handle this as professionally as possible. No `Rambo' heroics... I think we've lost enough agents." He wishes him luck as he exits the offices.
"Wonderful," Vic mutters, running a hand over his hair in exasperation.
"Christ, he's back." Abbe sighs, shaking her head.
"What's he after this time?" Vic asks, leaning in the doorway.
"Us, it seems," Abbe quietly replies before raising her voice to the room, "Okay, here's the drill. We're going to be... `watching'... a few of the old crew."
"I'm sure they'll love that..." Sue adds sarcasticly.
"There's only a handful of agents left, it seems," Abbe muses aloud as she flips through the folder.
"I just dont see why he has it in for us," Agent Tyler, new to the team, comments, "Why the `FBI's Most Unwanted'?"
"Kennedy?" Vic offers in answer, glancing over to Abbe.
"No word yet," Abbe replies, missing the meaning. "I tried calling her brother in Chicago. He hasn't seen her."
"No," Vic explains. "I meant, could he be after her? The case file said he kidnapped her last time."
"Neary killed her too," Jakes adds.
"Yeah, but she got out in one piece last time." Tyler responds, thinking out loud. "Why not finish the job?" This leads to speculation from everyone as to what Berston's motives and plans are until Sue sums it up.
"He's insane. Maybe we shouldn't expect it to make sense."
"Vic," Abbe begins, getting back to matters at hand, "can you talk to Drami? She's on... `leave'. Harding lives in the general area, too."
"You've got Chauvez," Abbe continues, indicating Jakes. "Sue... MacBeth. Lynn... take Agent Guyver. Christ, that leaves me with West." The assignments are recieved less than enthusiastically by the other agents. "You need to talk to these agents, see if they know anything about this situation or why their department is working on a case they have no authorization for."
"Coulda been worse, I guess." Jakes comments, adding a jab that earns him a forced smile, "I feel sorry for you, Vic."
"Just talk to the guy," Abbe says as she assists Lynn with her assignment, "He's a little strange, but you'll be fine."
"And for God's sake, be careful." Vic adds as he checks his pistol and makes his exit. "I'll see you guys at the services."
"Always am," Jakes smiles.
"Tyler, you're with me," Abbe says darkly, "I'll need the backup."
At the memorial services, the solidarity of the X-Files agents is evident by how they cluster together. The agents notice this and steel themselves for some possibly tense discusssions. Agent Guyver spots the team and breaks off from the cluster, greeting Abbe.
"We're here to pay our respects," Abbe explains.
"Why?" Guyver responds, immediately confrontational, "They're not one of yours."
"They're FBI. That's enough," she counters, spotting West, "Now if you'll excuse me..."
While Abbe approaches West, the other agents mill around the crowd, uncomfortable but edging closer to their charges.
"Do you mind if I stand here?" Abbe asks cautiously.
"Free world," West replies, still focusing on the memorial services. They stand listening for while, West doing his best to ignore Abbe's presence.
"West, what exactly happened out in New Mexico?"
"I'm on suspension," he replies with a smile, "Not at liberty to disscuss a case."
"Yes, I know. But... unofficially."
"I've become married to protocol of late," West counters sarcasticly.
"Quite a change, West. I never thought I'd see the day."
"What do you want?" he asks, becoming irritated.
"Just some information. Why did Indus and Terrance go out to New Mexico?" Abbe fixes West with a steady gaze, her seriousness evident. "And the others... why?"
"Couldn't rightly say," he remarks, suddenly intent on observing the sky as he starts to leave. "Is that all?"
"I didn't ask for this assignment," she spits out, grabbing West's arm. "Nor did I ask for the division to be split, West."
"Yeah," West fumes, pulling his arm away, "Right."
"You don't have to believe me," Abbe says, softening her tone, "But you know... West, you know my word is gold. Remember that before you send another agent out to be killed."
"Why are you talking to me now?" West asks, his expression blank. "You slamed the phone down on all earlier conversations..What's up here?"
"You didn't hear about Fledge and the others?"
"Yeah, I heard," West replies, possibly a bit shaken, "So what is your involvement?"
"Skinner assigned us... because of our," Abbe gestures to herself and West, "involvement in the Berston case last year."
"Assigned you to what?"
"This... case," she responds, lowering her voice unneccessarily. "Look, West, there seems to be a pattern. If Berston is targeting X-Files agents, he's starting wth the old crew. Your people are in danger. Regardless of our past... regardless of the split... I don't want to see anyone else dead by this man's hand."
"You want to help me, sweatheart?" West laughs harshly, "You tell me where Ken is! Otherwise, we have nothing more to discuss." With that, he moves off and gets in his car.
As she watches him drive away, Abbe mutters under her breath "West, you are such a pain in the ass..."
Lynn uses the end of the services as a catalyst to approach Guyver, greeting the relatively unknown agent politely. Guyver simply shrugs off her greeting and moves away towards the parked cars, Lynn following behind.
"You could have at least answered my greeting, you know?" Lynn complains.
"Listen, Agent.... whoever," Guyver begins as he stops at Chauvez' car. "Why don't you just go away? Okay?"
"It's Cai," she replies coldly. "Not very friendly are we?"
"Should I be?"
"Considering that we've never met before... maybe."
"What?" Guyver asks unbelieving as he notices Jakes grilling Chauvez, "Are you guys babysitting us?"
"All I'm trying to figure out," Lynn explains, trying to divert attention back to her, "Is what's going on. I'm sure you want that too?"
Guyver responds by getting in the car with Chauvez. "Go away, Agent Cai," he says flatly before closing the door.
Lynn sighs and follows Jakes lead back to his car.
Meanwhile, Jakes has finally worked up the nerve to try his luck with Chauvez
"Damned shame, isn't it?" he begins, "There's so few of us as it is."
"What do you mean?" she asks, suspicious.
"Any death of an agent is one we can't afford to have. Don't you agree?" Chauvez reamins silent, so Jakes presses on. "I wonder who went gunning for him?"
With silence his only answer, he keeps working his angle. "You were working with that group weren't you Chauvez?" Chauvez moves away, visibly upset and shaken, just as the services end.
"Leave me alone Stillwater."
"We can't do that. We're stuck with each other, allright?" Chauvez ignores him and climbs into her car. Jakes, frustrated, heads for his own car, glancing at Guyver and Lynn.
As Guyver and Chauvez take off, Jakes motions Lynn into his own car and follows as discreetly as possible.
"God, what a difficult man," Lynn sighs.
"She always was an unsocialable bitch," Jakes comments on his own attempt.
"Hopefully, the others are having better luck."
Much to the agents' surprise, Chauvez' car stops suddenly. Guyver gets out and strides over to Jakes' car, stopping by the passenger side and fumbling in his pockets. He kneels suddenly, and Jakes scrambles out of the car as he realizes, too late, what Guyver is doing.
"Aw shit!" he exclaims as Guyver tosses the air valve onto the hood of the car and walks back to Chauvez' while Jakes' tire bleeds it air out in a rush.
Jakes and Lynn rapidly change the tire, but Chauvez and Guyver are long gone, so they head back to the others.
Sue makes her way towards MacBeth under a withering look from the more senior agent.
"I take it you didn't miss us?" she offers quietly as the services end.
"Miss?" he scoffs, "No... not at all."
"Then why have your agents been working on this case? You must have realized you'd run into us eventually."
"No, I hoped I wouldn't see the day we may have to work together."
"Now that we are, wouldn't it be best if there was some cooperation between our groups? We'd like to help if we can."
"Help?" MacBeth blurts out, incredulous. "How?"
"By trying to keep anyone else from being killed."
"And how do you plan to do that?"
"We've dealt with Berston before," Sue explains. "If anyone can find out what he's trying to do, I think we can. Plus I'd think you could use any help you could get."
"To what? Protect me?!?"
"Safety in numbers, maybe," she offers with a shrug.
"You mean to protect me?" MacBeth squints angrily at Sue. "Oh, this is rich! Thanks, but no thanks.
"You think you're good, huh?" he continues, his voice taking on a shrill quality, "You work for six months and blamo! You're assigned Special Ops! Let me tell you something..." he hammers his point home by pushing Sue's shoulder with his finger, "If you or any of your Special Ops tail me, I'll shoot you... to kill. Understand?"
The vehemence of the delivery leaves Sue speechless and stunned as MacBeth storms off.
Abbe motions Sue over to herself and Tyler, and the agents compare notes as they watch the remaining mourners depart.
"Anything?" Abbe asks hopefully.
"Nothing. And while I didn't expect them to be thrilled to see us, I was surprised at the hostility." Sue responds, shaking her head sadly.
"Agreed... they're much more resentful about the split than I expected. Especially after six months." Tyler nods her agreement.
"Did you find anything out from West?" Sue asks, her hopes fading as she watches Abbe's expression.
"Not a damn thing. In fact, he seems determined to find Ken. How was MacBeth?"
"Unhelpful," Sue frowns "Extremely resentful. I would think they could rise above those feelings, considering the danger they're in.
"They probably think we're behind it all," Abbe speculates. She catches sight of Vic across the grassy park-like setting, apparently still working on Drami. "I hope Vic has better luck with her."
"Drami?" Sue laughs, "Somehow I doubt it."
"Fat chance," Tyler adds.
"You're probably right," Abbe concedes, looking at the other two, "We're not going to get anywhere with these people." She pauses. "How many do you think are involved?" Abbe asks as she looks over the last of the mourners, "Unofficially, that is."
"Damned if I know," Sue replies, shaking her head, "I can't even figure out why they're involved."
"They think that if they find Mulder and Scully first," Abbe offers conspiritorily. "They'll be ahead of the game. Trouble is... they're all dying one by one."
"This isn't some kind of contest," Sue offers. "They're fools."
"They're watching us... did you notice that?" Abbe states, referring to the last of the lingering agents.
"Oh, of course they are. They probably think we're out to get them."
"It's more than that, Sue. If I didn't know any better... I'd say they had revenge in their eyes..."
Jakes and Lynn hook up with the other three agents and they all return to the offices, frustrated and, especially in Jakes case, angry. Manda is there, trying to track down the other X-Files Division agents and any possible leads.
Jakes and Lynn go to work on the computer, retrieving addresses so that they can continue with their assignment to protect the others.
Everyone is interrupted by a knock on the door. A FedEx messenger has an evelope for the other office, but since no one was there, he was hoping that this office could sign for it. Abbe does, but is hesitant about opening it... especially with Berston running around loose.
The team gathers around Abbe after she reads the sender's name.... J. Doe.
"We could run it upstairs," Manda offers, "X-ray it."
"I would," Tyler agrees.
"Just because the Unabomber's in jail doesn't mean it's safe," Sue cautions.
"And considering Berston's involvement..." Abbe considers aloud before tearing open the envelope and emptying the contents on the table. Six FBI badges... one for each of the dead agents in addition to Kennedy's... and a typed note tumble from the envelope. Two words appear on the paper... `Who's next?'
The agents are agast at the delivery, obviously from Berston, but have little time to think about the meanings or implications before a visitor arrives. A imposing bald black man enters, a familiar but unwelcome face to some of the agents. It is Special Agent Davis, from the Violent Crimes Section, and his history as the herald of bad news remains umblemished.
"Good morning," he begins unconvincingly "Have you heard from Agent Ryan lately?"
"She's on leave, Agent Davis," Abbe replies, making to dodge the situation and the unfriendly agent. "Personal. Indefinite."
"I know that. Have you heard from her?" he repeats. The other agents look on at the barely restrained hostility of Davis and the cool responses from Beck.
"No. No, I haven't. Why?"
"We found the credit card link."
"Credit card link?" Abbe echoes, slipping on her poker face.
"Rental cars, motels, gas..." Davis explains, bored with the pretension. "She's been near every murder site."
"Her credit card has, you mean," Sue clarifies.
"And," Davis continues, ignoring Sue, "She charged a ticket from Amarillo Texas to DC. The plane arrived this morning."
"I see," Abbe replies, nodding to Sue. "You think she's involved in this, then."
"She is a suspect," Davis answers.
"Motive?"
Davis straightens up and crosses his arms, towering over Abbe. "You tell me."
"I don't know, Agent Davis. Kennedy had no business with those agents. She got along with everyone."
"Alright," he frowns as he starts his exit. "Let us know if you do hear from her. You've got the number to VCS, right? I hope to hear from you soon." With Davis' departure, the tension slowly eases out of the room.
"She's tracking him..." Abbe says softly. "Ken... she's after him. I don't know how she's doing it, either... or why."
"We have to find her first," Manda decides.
"Before Davis," Abbe nods in agreement, "Or Berston or... the others. Before anyone."
"Why wouldn't she let us know?" Sue asks in frustration as Abbe's cellular phone rings. "Why won't she let us help her?"
"She probably doesn't want to compromise us," Abbe offers, "To risk us."
"Maybe she's afraid of blowing a cover," Tyler suggests as Abbe answers the phone.
"Agent Beck!" comes the cheery, and somewhat familiar voice, after she answers. "What a pleasant surprise!"
"Who is it?" she asks cautiously, turning away from the others, but dreading the answer.
"Oh, you know!" Berston teases before becoming a little more serious. "You wouldn't happen to know where Kennedy is, would you? Agent Guyver here is no longer able to tell me."
"May I speak to Agent Guyver?" Abbe asks, swalling hard and scrawling `B' on a post-it note and flashing it at Manda. Manda immediately calls to attempt a trace.
"He's in no condition to talk," Berston laughs, chilling Abbe.
"Why do you want Agent Ryan?"
"Do you know where she is?" Berston asks again, laughing off Abbe's attempted distraction.
"Why should I tell you, Mister Berston?" Abbe counters flatly, apparently causing Berston to pause.
"Okay," he answers glibly. "Works for me. I'll find her myself. Bye, Agent Beck."
"Son of a bitch!" Abbe curses at the sudden dial tone in her ear, slamming her own phone down. "He's after Kennedy!"
"Did you have time to trace it?" Sue asks Manda.
"No time," she replies through restrained anger. "Damned bureau protocol."
"What did Berston say?" Sue asks. "Any hint of where he was?"
"Nothing," Abbe snaps angrily, starting to pace. "But Guyver is dead."
"He must be near here then," Sue says to break the silence that has settled over the room, "To have gotten to Guyver so soon."
"For some reason, he thinks the agents know where she is," Abbe fumes. "He's starting with the old crew, but sooner or later, he's going to pick on one of us."
"I want to check out Guyver's place," Lynn announces suddenly, waving a sheet of paper. "I have the address."
Everyone leaves for Guyver's apartment, and Vic calls in to check on any new developements, since he's with Drami and Harding. Manda briefs him on the situation, but he elects to sit tight in case Berston comes after Drami or Harding next.
The team arrives at Guyver's apartment, only to discover the door is locked. After a few minutes work from Lynn, the door swings open revealing the darkened interior. Guyver's place is in shambles, apparently torn apart in a search. Guyver's body is slumped on the floor next to his computer desk, killed by a crushed windpipe. The phone is pleading to be hung up, off the hook and laying on an address book.
Abbe's cel phone number is in the book, marked with a check. The only other mark is around Maria Chauvez' home phone and address... circled.
After a brief check to make sure Berston isn't still around, the team moves to Chauvez', hoping they're not too late. The drive is short, and they arrive at Chauvez' little house, her car still in the driveway.
"Is the door open, you think?" Lynn asks as the agents cautiously approach.
"Only one way to find out," Abbe mutters.
"Careful," Sue cautions as Abbe's phone rings yet again. "I can't help but think he's led us here for a reason."
The team spreads out in standard FBI fashion, moving to cover the front and back entrances, as Abbe hurriedly answers the phone.
"Keep everyone back," Berston demands in an angry voice. "Or Maria dies."
"Tyler!" Abbe calls out as the dial tone begins, "Stay away from the house!" Everyone regroups behind the agent's cars when Abbe's phone rings again. Manda takes the opportunity the brief pause has afforded to call for backup, per Abbe's instructions.
"Abbe?" comes the familiar and long-lost voice, "It's Ken. Thank God I got you!"
"Ken? Christ! Where the hell are you?" Around her, the agents are drawing thier guns, making ready for anything Berston may try.
"Berston is in DC!" Kennedy warns.
"No shit, Ken... I'm probably twenty feet away from him now. Where are you?"
"What?!! I'm on the beltway, been driving all night. Where are you?"
"Maria Chauvez'. You know where she lives Ken?"
"Yeah, I'm five minutes away. Don't do anything until I get there."
"Ken, don't come here... he's after you. Get to a safe house. Do you understand me. Do not come here."
"No! I've got an idea... I'm on my way."
"Ken? Ken?" Abbe asks the all to frequent sudden dial tone. "Dammit!"
Meanwhile, Manda is having a similar conversation with Vic, still guarding Drami and Harding.
"Get down here, Vic. We're at Chauvez'. We've got Berston here..."
"What?!!" Vic interrupts, already moving.
"I repeat, we have Berston. We need backup. He's taken Chavez hostage. How far are you?"
"I'll be right there," Vic insists, cursing away from the phone. "You guys stay undercover. Get some armor on or something."
Manda nods and disconnects, moving to cover Abbe with her service pistol.
"This isn't right," Tyler mutters as all eyes concentrate on the house, "He kills. He doesn't take hostages..."
"You know," Lynn pauses ominously, "You're right..."
"How long until the back up arrives?" Abbe asks Manda.
"Soon," she breathes, still watching the house. "He's on his way."
"Ken's not coming here," Sue asks, shooting a glance at Abbe uncertainly, "Is she?"
"I tried to stop her."
"Christ, she should know better," Sue shakes her head, "After what happened last time."
"Any movement inside?" Abbe asks after what seems an eternity.
"You are NOT going in there," Manda says firmly.
"I can't let Ken go in there, either."
"I'll go in," Manda states matter-of-factly, just as Ken comes screeching to halt near the agents' cars. Using the cars as cover, she climbs over to the others. She's barely recognizable, having changed her hairstyle, hair color, clothes... everything.
"I think I like the red hair better, Ken," Abbe jokes lightly.
"Abbe, I've got to get in there!" Kennedy breathes heavily.
"No," Abbe insists, grabbing Ken's arm, "You're not going anywhere. He's killed six agents, possibly seven. You're not going to be number eight." Kennedy hands Abbe a copy of the previous case file involving Berston, but Abbe protests. "I know this case, Ken... I was there, too."
"If we go in," Sue interjects, "We should all go in. The more of us there are, the better chance we'll have against him."
Two blocks away, a green sedan screams around a corner sideways, headed straight for the agents.
"And there's backup," smiles Manda as Vic turns the car sideways again, bringing it to a halt and blocking the street from further traffic. Keeping down, she hurries over to Vic.
Vic gets out and immediately begins digging through the trunk of the car, pausing only to listen to Manda.
"Vic, Ken can NOT go in there!"
"What? Ken's here?!"
"I've been tracking him by my credit cards for 3 days," Kennedy explains, stopping to wave at Vic's surprised expression, "I know why he wants me."
"Why?" Abbe asks.
"I'm his wife," she replies, hurriedly adding, "I mean, he thinks I'm his wife. I mean..." She gives up and pulls a photo from the file and hands it to Abbe.
"We cannot let her in!" Manda demands of Vic, who has resumed his search of his trunk.
"There's a passing resemblance, Ken," Abbe admits, "But you're hardly his wife!"
"I don't think there is any hostage," Lynn confides in Tyler. "I think he's trying to get us inside."
"I cut my hair like her" Kennedy continues, "Dyed it. Dress like her..."
"You're not going in there, Ken," Abbe demands, grabbing Ken's arm.
Vic, finally dragging a bullet-proof vest and rifle case from the car and closing the trunk, agrees with both Manda and Abbe with a simple "You're right."
Kennedy looks at her friends and co-workers for a moment, sizing each of them up, in a way.
"He wants me, Abbe," she explains, her voice growing colder, "And I want him...
"...Dead!"
~ PAUSE SIM ~
Session Two Summary:
"Abbe," Ken implores, "I've got to do this! I have a plan. You can wire me and hear everything going on in there. I'll go in and try and get Chauvez out. Then inch him towards a window for Vic to blow his bloody head off."
Vic nods his approval and slings the rifle over his shoulder, still keeping a watchful eye on the house. Manda quietly assists him, then begins digging out supplies needed for survival. Bullet-proof vests, bandages, scissors, ammunition...
"That doesn't really sound like the most fully developed plan I've ever heard, to tell you the truth." Sue comments.
"You are NOT going in there!" Abbe insists, grabbing Ken's arm and exposing her scarred wrist. "Does this look familiar? You want this to happen again? Or worse?"
"Abbe, I've got to do this," Ken replies, pulling her arm away before turning to Vic, "Make her understand."
"What about Chauvez?" Vic asks soberly, but interrupts Abbe's reply. "What about anyone else this bastard runs across? It's up to us to stop him..."
"What if she isn't in there?" Lynn asks.
"And what if he's got the place loaded?" Abbe retorts. "The house could blow, and take Ken and Chauvez, and the neighborhood..."
"...And him." Vic adds. "We've got to try."
"But if she isn't in there," Lynn protests, "And you go in, he has you right where he wants you!"
"And then he really has a hostage..." Tyler adds.
"Exactly," Lynn agrees.
"Then I kill him." Vic says plainly.
"It's too dangerous," Abbe begins her protests again. "Remember what happened last time."
"I need this Abbe," Ken pleads, looking Abbe in the eye. "Closure."
"Seems to me that all you're doing is supplying yourself as a hostage," Sue quietly remarks. "And with you as a shield Vic won't be able to kill him."
"Ken, you need closure," Abbe sighs. "I understand that. But I don't need your death on my conscience. We go in together."
"Too risky," Lynn protests.
"My life isn't worth a damn if I'm always looking over my shoulder for him!" Kennedy blasts the protests, moving to her car and getting the necessary equipment.
"Ken, listen to me," Abbe asks softly. "I know what you're going through. But a suicide mission is not the answer."
"Abbe, he wants me. He'll just kill you. I can't have anymore people die because he wants me."
"Abbe... look at her," Vic begins, motioning to Kennedy. "Did you recognize her? I didn't. I don't think Berston will, either."
"What IF he thinks Ken is his wife?" Abbe retorts. "What then? It could send him over the edge."
"Who's to say he wont just kill you too Kennedy?" Lynn asks.
"I don't think this is a suicide mission," Ken explains as police cars begin appearing on the scene, even though none of the agents called for them. "I can get him in his only vulnerable part... his memory."
"Yes, but that could make him lose what sanity he has left!" Lynn cries.
"Ken, I still think this is wrong," Abbe surrenders. "But you do what you have to do. Just be careful."
While Abbe and Kennedy set up the hidden microphone and transmitters, Vic explains the situation to the police, who begin clearing the residents of the block.
"Something is really wrong here," Lynn confides in Tyler.
"Yeah." Tyler agrees, "I think he's bluffing to beat the band. I think Chauvez is dead, and we will be too."
"Okay," Kennedy explains as she tests out the transmitter, "I'm going to cut back and enter from the west side. Go right in the front door. Am I coming through okay?"
"Stay in touch," Vic smiles before running across the street with the rifle and a radio.
"Be prepared if he searches you," Abbe cautions Kennedy before she heads to the house, "Do NOT take any unnecessary risks in there."
"I have a gut feeling on this one," Lynn bemoans, "Something is really fishy here..."
"So do I," Tyler agrees.
At the door, Kennedy simply knocks and enters, disappearing from the agents' sight. The only way they know what is going on is through the wire, and the agents split their attention between the receiver and the house.
"Honey?" Kennedy's voice chimes over the tiny speaker, "I'm home."
"We don't have a choice," Abbe explains, still listening to the radio. "Ken would go in with or without our cooperation."
"Who the fu..." a male voice, apparently Berston, begins over the wire. "What... Tawny? Wha..."
"Honey, I'm home now," Kennedy's voice soothes. "Why don't we send the kids out to play?"
"God, I hope we're dead wrong on this," Lynn mutters.
"Uh... kids," Berston's voice stammers, suddenly sounding different and unsure, "Uh... yeah. Go on outside, baby."
"Watch the windows and doors for movement," Abbe hisses at the others.
"Lets pour a drink and have some quiet time," Kennedy's voice suggests. Within seconds, the front door opens, and Maria Chauvez looks wildly around before spotting the agents and bolting for cover with them. As she slumps against the car, Abbe immediately begins pressing Maria for information about what's happening inside. Lynn and Lindsay breathe a sigh of relief that they were wrong, but Chauvez is visibly shaking.
"C'mon, Chauvez," Abbe demands, "Did Berston say anything to you?"
"How was your day today?" Berston's voice asks over the receiver. Maria begins withdrawing into herself at the sound of the voice.
"Been a long day," Kennedy's voice replies. "How about yours?"
"Uh, not bad," Berston's voice answers, sounding confused and hesitant, "I guess..."
"Vic," Abbe calls into the radio, "Anything yet?"
Up on the roof across the street from Chauvez' house, Vic is just settling in to his firing position. "I don't have a shot yet."
A rhythmic thumping can be heard over the receiver. Puzzled for a moment, the agents soon realize it is Kennedy's heartbeat. The sound seems to bring Maria back to her senses, though she's still badly shaken.
"He's armed t-to the teeth," Chauvez whispers, trembling. "Guns... grenades... knives... ammo..."
"Oh damn," Tyler curses while the other agents shift positions uncomfortably, glancing back to the house.
"Did he say anything to you?" Abbe presses.
"K-kept talking about the..." Maria stammers, "B-bomb."
"A bomb?!? Where?"
"Liquid f-fuel... at the Kennedy Cen-Center."
"Jesus..."
"Chauvez looks pretty shaken," Tyler whispers to Lynn, " I think she may go into shock."
"He was t-talking about t-two to four thousand ca-casualties. One squ-square mile... gone."
"Maria. Maria!" Abbe demands, breaking the agent's self-absorption, "Did Berston say if there was a timer or remote control?"
"T-timer... What time is-s it?"
"One thirty," Abbe replies as she checks her watch.
"H-he said it was set for t-two!" Maria stammers urgently.
"We need to call a bomb squad," Sue insists as she begins dialing. "Maria, do you have any more information?"
"If there's enough time, Sue," Abbe sighs, "And if he doesn't also have a fail-safe..."
"Are we going to the Anderson's tonight?" Berston's voice asks, sending Maria into another trembling fit.
"Well, I thought we could spend the evening in," Kennedy's voice comes through, "Just watching the sunset from this window."
"Damn," Vic's voice breaks in, "She just crossed in front of the window. Alone."
"Sunset," Berston says uncertainly, "Uh... yeah."
"Knowing Berston," Abbe begins, "He's got a backup, in case we disarm the bomb. Make sure they know that, Sue."
"Yes," Kennedy coos, "It should be beautiful."
"Vic?" Abbe asks the radio, "Can we get a message to Ken? There' s a bomb at the Kennedy Center, due to go off in... twenty-eight minutes."
"No way," Vic insists, "He'll hear it."
"Join me," Kennedy's voice invites.
"I've called it in," Sue breathes, putting the phone away. "I don't know what else to do."
"Can we send..." Vic begins, then interrupts himself. "Hold on..."
"Don't those squad cars have first aid kits?" Tyler thinks aloud.
"Get Maria over to one of those squad cars," Abbe orders. Lynn and Tyler help Maria to her feet and begin trying to help prevent her from going into shock.
"Why is she taking so long?" Sue wonders aloud. There is a noise over the receiver.... what could only be described as a kiss.
"Damn, he's too close." Vic explains.
"Now, now," Kennedy's voice protests, "The kids could come in."
"We could get a sitter," Berston's voice suggests.
"Keep it on him, Vic," Abbe instructs, "Take him out as soon as you can."
"Jeez, Ken," Sue complains, "Just get him in front of the window and tell him you'll go make him a sandwich or something. Before he goes psycho."
"We could..." Kennedy begins, but her voice is replaced by some sort of rustling noise. "Now where did I put my drink?"
"Abbe?" comes Vic's hesitant question over the radio.
"Yeah, Vic." Abbe pauses her pacing.
"What about the bomb?"
"We're..." Abbe freezes, uncertain. "We're working on it."
"These guys are taking way too long," Abbe explains to Sue. "Think you could take Tyler and Cai to check things out?" Sue agrees, assembling the other two agents, and leaving the shaken Chauvez in the police officers' care.
"Sure you'll be okay here?" Sue asks.
"Yeah," Abbe nods, glancing at Manda, "Just go."
"When's it blow?" Vic asks.
"Christ," Abbe breathes, "Twenty minutes. We're running out of time."
"Honey, the sun will be setting soon," Kennedy soothes, "Come watch it with me."
"Not," Berston begins, puzzlement evident in his voice. "Not just yet... it's... it's not ready yet..."
"Can we crosstrack this guy?" Abbe asks the radio. "Maybe catch him at another angle?"
"Already on it..." pants Vic.
"Ken, stop playing," Abbe mutters, "Take him out yourself if you have to."
As Sue, Lindsay, and Lynn take off for the bomb site, several of the police cars peel off as escorts, leaving Abbe alone for a few moments to listen to Kennedy and Berston.
"Okay..." Vic begins over the radio, "Hold on... lining up...."
"Get him, Vic..." Abbe breathes into the radio.
*****
Meanwhile, the others are nearly at the bomb site...
"What are we going to do when we get there?" Lynn asks logically.
"I have no idea," Lindsay admits.
"Hopefully," Sue begins, weaving the car through the openings the police escorts are making, "We'll get there and find out that the bomb squad has managed to disarm the bomb. Otherwise...guess we'll splatter over the nearest building."
"Or we find out there isn't a bomb at all and we are on a wild goose chase," Lynn offers hopefully.
"Wouldn't be surprised if there was a bomb," Sue mutters, "Berston would be more than happy to cause as much carnage and suffering as possible."
"There's a bomb, no doubt." Lindsay agrees suddenly. "He would never pass up a chance to make millions of people suffer."
"Well yes," Lynn argues, "But don't you think he knew Chauvez would tell...."
The debate ends as the police lead the agents to a small tanker truck. It is unoccupied and not running, but ironically, the hazard lights are flashing. Thought not nearly the size of a semi-trailer, if the tank is full of liquid explosive, there's 10,000 gallons of it in there. More than enough to do the damage Berston described to Chauvez.
"Now we're in for it..." Lindsay remarks, checking her watch, "Seven minutes..."
The agents and police begin checking on the truck... slowly and carefully. They discover that if the truck is moved at all, the timer will be overridden and the device will explode. But the laptop on the driver's seat displaying the countdown clock looks promising. Unfortunately, this looks a lot more complicated than anything they've had to deal with at Quantico.
So Lindsay calls back to Abbe.
*****
"I'm ready," Vic whispers into the radio, punctuated by a click as he releases the safety, "Can you get Ken to move somehow?"
"Stand by," Abbe replies as she answers the phone, still holding the radio in her other hand.
"Does anyone there have any explosive experience?" Lindsay asks. "We need to disarm a big, complex bomb in under... four minutes."
"Four minutes on the bomb," Abbe informs Manda.
"What's the timer look like?" Vic asks, hearing the relayed message. Soon, Abbe is relaying Vic's questions to Lindsay, and Lindsay's answers back to Vic. After a couple of moments, Vic gives up. He's not sure how to disarm the bomb.
*****
"At this point we should try something," Sue insists. "Either we blow up now or a few minutes from now."
Lynn yanks the battery pack and connecting cables from the back of the laptop and backs away...
"Is it stopped?" Sue anxiously asks. "Or is it going to blow?"
*****
"He's just hanging back from the windows," Manda observes as she watches the house, "Nothing unusual there."
"Where is Kennedy?" Abbe asks, juggling the radio, the receiver, and the telephone.
"My guess?" Manda asks, looking over the house once again. "Right where he is."
*****
"What's that noise?" Sue asks in the sudden silence. Everyone around the tanker strains to hear, and soon the regular beeping from inside the tanker assures everyone that the bomb is still active, the laptop just a diversion. Lindsay and Lynn run for cover, as do most of the police.
"I don't think you can run fast enough to get away from this," Sue comments with resignation. One of the officers joins Sue cautiously.
"What happens if we try this?" he asks, indicating several valves on the tank. "Everyone assumed that they were wired..."
"Try it," Sue shrugs. "Either it explodes or the fuel drains out. At this point, what do we have to lose?"
*****
"Can you get him yet?" Abbe asks over the radio to Vic. Static suddenly begins flickering over the receiver.
"Damn!" Manda curses.
"....so quiet about?" comes the broken voice of Kennedy.
"We need to get inside," Abbe decides, standing and watching the house.
"Abbe, stay put," Manda demands, "Dammit... we're breaking up here. What's causing the static?"
"...on't unde...tand..." Kennedy drifts in and out again.
"Relax, De..." Berston's broken voice answers.
"We shouldn't have all this interference," Abbe voices her concern aloud. "Something's not right."
"The basement... could that fuzz the signal?" Manda offers.
"....lease..." Kennedy chops.
"We can't go in," Manda muses, "But we can't just leave her there..."
"No, we can't," Abbe replies. "But if there's a distraction... maybe Vic, or even Ken, can get off a shot."
"A distraction," Manda agrees, "But we can't leave Ken blind to it. If it surprises her, it's not going to do any good at all."
"We can't communicate with her... he'd hear," Abbe concurs. "We have to take a chance."
*****
Pinkish-brown liquid erupts from the open valve, spilling in a noisy cascade into the drainage gutter. The beeping of the detonator can't be heard anymore, and everyone backs away from the tanker and takes meager cover behind the cars.
"It doesn't seem to be exploding," dryly comments Sue, "But will it drain quickly enough?"
The flow of the liquid slows to a mere trickle, and finally stops. The police officer knocks the cover from a hydrant, washing the liquid into the gutter and down the storm drains.
Suddenly, there is a loud `pop' from inside the tanker. Sue begins to comment, but the flash and roar of the exploding truck makes that impossible...
*****
Abbe moves cautiously around the cars, inching closer to the house. Manda, suddenly aware of her intentions, blocks her.
"You are NOT going in there!" Manda demands.
"You have another idea, Manda?" Abbe retorts.
"Where...." Berston's voice hacks through the static.
"You're not going in there without me," Manda clarifies.
"Wha....rong, dea..." Kennedy comes through.
"Oh shit!" Vic calls over the radio, unheeded. "Something's up!"
"Okay," Abbe agrees, the radio forgotten for the moment.
"Honey?" Kennedy asks, the static suddenly clearing.
"The... sun..." Berston asks, "Where's the boom?"
"Abbe," Manda warns, hearing the radio and receiver, "Freeze!"
"What Vic?" Abbe demands of the radio, "What?"
"What boom, dear?" Kennedy asks innocently.
*****
What's left of the truck slams back onto the street, scattering flaming chunks of metal everywhere. Glass still falls musically to the concrete, creating gleaming blue-white jewels in the sunlight.
"I'm guessing that was it," Lynn comments, surveying the scene.
"Everyone okay?" Lindsay asks as she rises from behind the car she was using for cover.
Sue steps around a burning... something... and looks at the ruined street. There is no glass anywhere that isn't broken, and one of the police cruisers is on fire, but otherwise, the damage is minimal. After a brief check to make sure everyone is uninjured, she calls Abbe as she makes her way back to the car.
*****
"What is it NOW?" Abbe demands of the phone before even finding out who is calling. A double click comes from the radio as Vic slides the bolt on the rifle home.
"He knows!" Manda shouts, adding to the confused jumble of information.
"YOU!!!!!" Berston's voice bellows, audible even without the aid of the wire.
"What?" Kennedy asks innocently. "Ummm, honey, is something wrong? I..."
"We need to get her out..." Abbe insists urgently.
"It's Sue," the phone finally replies, "The bomb went off, there wasn't much damage. What's going on there?!"
"Berston knows," Abbe hurriedly informs Sue, "He didn't see the explosion... he knows!"
Suddenly, machine-gun fire erupts from the house, a tongue of flame pointing to the house across the street. The receiver, not designed for such volume, promptly dies with a high-pitched squeal. Even over Vic's open mike across the street, the gunfire is deafening.
"GODDAMMIT!!!" Vic shouts as he ducks behind the cover of the chimney, chunks of bricks and shingles crashing around and into him. Manda and Abbe both drop to the ground as the fire shifts lower, but one of the police officers isn't as quick, and falls to a curtain of lead. Bullets dance across the cruisers and the agents' cars, when the thunderclap of Vic's rifle is heard returning fire.
Abbe is closest to the house, prone behind Chauvez' car, with Manda further back, also on the ground. The booming of Vic's rifle is accompanied by cracking wood and crashing glass, but it is soon accompanied by the heavier report of Berston's shotgun as the gun battle drags on.
"Abbe!" Manda shouts over the gunfire as she starts forward, "GET IN!!!! GET IN THERE!!!!" Abbe and Manda rush to the house, pistols at the ready, praying that Vic's aim is true. Sue and the others speed down the street, slowing only when they near the gun battle.
Abbe and Manda hover near the door, waiting for covering fire from Vic, which comes as he fires into the door to make sure Berston isn't using it for cover. They slip inside, pausing to listen to what's going on inside.
The windows on the house inexplicably shatter inward, and Berston fires anew with the machine-gun.
"Christ!" curses Sue, ducking behind cars as she advances on the house. "What's going on in there?!?!"
"Looks like a small war," comments Lindsay, following Sue, as Vic's rifle begins its assault again.
"Berston must be ticked!" Lynn shouts over the commotion. Something soars out of the house and lands on the front lawn, spewing smoke even as it bounces on the grass.
Everyone ducks, while Abbe and Manda drop down inside, hoping the walls will protect them. Suddenly, there are several shots from inside the house... tiny in comparison to the previous din of the big guns... and the house begins to fill with choking white smoke.
Tear gas...
Out front, Lindsay is quickly overcome by the gas and collapses in a coughing fit in the driveway. Sue and Lynn fare better, but still have trouble seeing through their tears and the smoke.
Inside, Manda is reduced to crawling for the front door and fresher air as gas overpowers her. Abbe is doing much better, and finds Kennedy, who's in as bad a condition as Manda.
The agents gather outside, where the wind has dispersed much of the tear gas. Inside, however, is still fairly polluted. And there's no sign of Berston.
"Where is he?" Abbe coughs to Kennedy.
"I shot him," Ken coughs, still holding her emptied pistol.
"We'll wait 'til the smoke clears," Abbe instructs, "Cover the house. Go back in and check."
"Not again," Kennedy moans, wiping at her eyes and nose. "What the hell set him off?"
"He didn't see the explosion, I think," Abbe explains, watching the bullet-riddled house. "We stopped the bomb."
"Where is he?!?!?!" Vic shouts from the torn up roof of the house across the street.
"Inside!" Abbe calls back as the agents regroup.
"Are we sure that he's still inside?" asks Sue.
"Ken, what happened in there?" Abbe asks patiently.
"I shot him!" Kennedy replies fiercely. "Dead center! That's what happened.... Didn't faze him!"
"Are you sure, Ken?" Abbe asks after a pause. "There was a lot of smoke in there."
"Of course I'm sure!"
"Ken, ease down. Ease down." Abbe soothes.
"He's gone!" Kennedy laughs bitterly, turning away from the group.
"Where did you hit him?" Sue asks. "Could he have been wearing a bulletproof vest?"
"What the hell happened?!?!?" Vic asks as he jogs up to the team, quite upset. "One second he's fine... almost dead in my sights. Then, he looks... right.. at.. me... and starts shooting!!!"
"I don't know," Abbe mutters. "We may never know."
"I hit him twice in the arm," Ken begins, angrily pacing around. "Once in the leg. And the chest. He just stalled for a moment, then smiled and kept walking."
"Ken... take it easy," Abbe tries to settle.
"How did he know you were there?" Kennedy asks Vic. "Something ticked him off..."
Lynn and Lindsay volunteer to head back inside the house now that most of the gas has dissipated and search for Berston.
"Hold on, Cai," instructs Vic before turning on Ken. "You shot him?"
"Yes!" Kennedy cries, "Dead nuts! I shot him!"
"Hold on?!?" Lynn asks incredulously. "This guy goes nuts and starts shooting and you want me to hold on?!?"
"What are you going to do with those that hasn't been done?" Vic asks as he motions to the pistols Lynn and Lindsay are holding. Suddenly, his tone takes on a viscous biting sarcasm, "How about verbally assaulting him?"
"Fine," Lynn replies, as the other agents look on in surprise, "But we can't do much worse in there than we can out here..."
"Yes," Vic agrees, stepping close to Lynn and biting off each word. "But... he's... not... out... here!"
"Damn!" Kennedy curses, drawing everyone's attention, "Why the hell wasn't he affected by the gas?"
"Or the bullets..." Vic adds.
"Doesn't make any sense," Lynn admits.
"It's Berston," Lindsay reminds them, "It doesn't have to make sense."
"Yeah," Lynn retorts, "But as far as we know, he's human. Humans are affected by gas and bullets. You saw what the gas did to you, Tyler."
"Did I ever," Lindsay replies.
"No," Kennedy mutters softly, shaking his head, "He's inhuman..."
"You're talking as though he's indestructible," Sue rages at the team. "Like we can't do anything about him. He's just some psycho!"
"Come on and help me," Abbe instruct Manda, diffusing the situation as she slips Ken's arm over her shoulder, "Ken needs all the support she can get..."
**** END SIM ****
Many people have not had the `pleasure' of first hand experience with military tear gas. Hopefully, this will enlighten you...
Imagine the worst sunburn you've ever had and double or triple that pain. Your skin, even under your clothes, feels like that. Your nose runs uncontrollably. Your eyes burn and water so bad that your vision is reduced to a gray blur. If you try to breathe, you can get air, but you cough in long, dry hacks.
Now, if you're one of the unfortunate people who react badly to tear gas, your in for a lot more `fun'. You won't see... anything. You'll literally be blinded by tears. Breathing is possible, but since you'll be gagging and vomiting, it won't be very easy. Consider yourself lucky if you're not on your hands and knees.
And don't rub your nose, your eyes, or any other part of your body. The gas accumulates on your skin, and rubbing any opening will just start the process all over again. Take a bath, wash your clothes... by themselves, and air out.
A military chemical suit will protect you from the gas, but those things are very hot. You'll be soaked in sweat in minutes. A gas mask will keep you from breathing in the gas, but unless the eyes are covered by the mask, you're still inoperative.
Chemical weapons aren't nice. Tear gas is the one of the weakest of them...
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