Sacrifices (3/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: So this part gets very intense. It might even be a little hard to read for some. I guess that’s sort of the point. As the writer, I wanted the reader to feel like they were in this room going through the same events and emotions as the characters. Hopefully, I did my job. On with the story…

Alex would have done anything for a pair of earplugs. She was doing her best to block out the whimpers and moans coming from Darien on the floor. She refused to look at his lanky, writhing figure for fear that it would somehow affect her. Affect her right in the heart.

Bobby wasn’t having that problem. In fact, he had spent the past twenty minutes trying to coach his partner through the pain. "Deep breaths, Fawkesy, deep breaths. You can do it, buddy," he said in a supportive tone as he stared down at his partner on the floor.

Darien lay on his side in a tiny sweat-covered ball, his heart racing so fast from the pain that on more then one occasion he had turned invisible. His whole world seemed to be consumed by the pain. It felt like he was lying in a pit of flames. He could hear his partner yelling at him, but his mind was having a hard time deciphering his words. He thought he could make out the words deep breaths. "Deep breaths, deep breaths," he repeated in a hoarse tone. In and out, in and out.

"Like you’re fighting the madness, Fawkes," said Bobby.

Okay, fighting the madness. He had to get in that zone. That calm zone where he could block everything out. He began taking intensely deep breaths, breathing so hard that he thought he might pass out. Hmmm, passing out. That wouldn’t be such a bad idea right about now.

Trey was watching all of this from his chair, his eyes observing the faces of all of his hostages. They were good; he would give them that. So far there was nothing in Bobby, Alex or the Official’s expressions that said they would give up the code. He saw sorrow and guilt, but nothing to indicate they would break. It was time for a little incentive.

"Well, I think it’s time for the next injection," said Trey as he reached for the black case and pulled out another vial of the purple liquid. He located the syringe and quickly filled it up.

Claire’s eyes glistened with tears. "Please don’t. Please don’t hurt him anywhere," she said in the calmest voice possible.

Trey smiled and stepped to Darien with the syringe in his hand. "I’m not the one you should be saying that to, Ms. Keeply." He nodded towards the others. "They have the power to make this stop, not me," he said as he knelt down next to Darien.

Darien could feel Trey’s presence looming over him and he quickly determined that it was not a good thing. He tried unsuccessfully to pick himself off the floor to get away, but his limbs refused to cooperate.

"Just another shot, Mr. Fawkes. Don’t mind me," said Trey as he firmly grasped Darien’s arm and pulled him up so his neck was exposed. He put the needle in Darien’s neck and injected him with the contents. When he was done, he pushed Darien back to the floor and returned to his chair. "This next stage involves a feeling of pain and paralysis to the limbs. Your arms and legs will ache intensely and you will not be able to move for about twenty minutes. Don’t panic, it’s not permanent."

But panic is exactly what Darien did. For several seconds after the injection, the pain from his skin disappeared, leaving him blissfully free from the agony. Then an intense stabbing sensation seemed to build in his arms and legs. He tried to curl into a tiny ball, but realized that he couldn’t move. His breath started coming in short pants and his heart began to race even faster. He quickly lost control of the gland and soon quicksilver was coating his entire body.

"Darien!" shouted Claire, trying unsuccessfully to mask her anger and worry.

Everyone in the room could hear his pain-filled pants, but they couldn’t actually see him, which somehow made the whole experience even harder.

Eberts glanced at the Official, a look of horror on his face. "Sir?" he said. "Perhaps one of you should give up the code."

The Official scowled at Eberts. "We will do no such thing. It’s just pain. Fawkes will survive," he said in a cold tone. He would be damned if he would admit that the sounds of Darien’s pain-filled whimpers had left him with a cold ache in his stomach that he knew would not be going away anytime soon.

"He might not survive, sir," said Claire in a firm voice. "His heart won’t be able to take this for much longer."

Their heads all snapped to the floor in horror as they heard Darien let out a gut wrenching sob.

Claire looked at Trey with a look of hatred gleaming from her eyes. "Uncuff me," she said simply.

Bobby and Alex both gave her a look of surprise.

"Why?" asked Trey, slightly intrigued.

"Because he shouldn’t have to go through this alone," said Claire, tears trickling down her cheeks. "If I knew the code, you would have had it five seconds after the first injection."

"Very well," said Trey as he motioned to one of his men to uncuff her. Vore stepped forward and pulled out a key, which he used to remove Claire’s cuffs.

As soon as she was free, Claire rubbed her wrists and knelt down on the floor, feeling for Darien. "Darien, I need you to come back. Come on, relax sweetheart, it’ll be okay," she said as her hand finally found his chest.

Darien willed himself to take deep breaths and calm down. The quicksilver was shed several seconds later.

Claire wasted no time in gathering him in her arms. She leaned his head against her shoulder and began running a comforting hand through his hair. "I know you can’t move right now. That’s to be expected, Darien. You’re not paralyzed," she said soothingly as she put her head down against his shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

Darien clenched his eyes shut, trying to deal with the pain. He nodded his head up and down slowly, tears dripping down from under his eyelids. "Yeah," he whispered after several seconds.

"I’m going to get you through this, I promise. I won’t let you die," she said softly. "Unlike them," she added as she gave Bobby, Alex and the Official an angry glance.

Bobby sighed, fighting his own tears. "Damn it, Keep, that’s not fair!" he yelled.

Claire gave him a cold glance. "Oh it seems perfectly fair to me. Your partner needs your help and you’re failing him," she said as she grasped Darien’s form even tighter.

"I’m sorry," he said softly as he lost the battle with his emotions. Tears started to run silently down his cheeks.

"Claire…" said Alex, who was also trying to keep her emotions in check.

Claire shook her head. "Don’t even bother, Alex. He deserves better from you. Hell, from all of you," she said, giving the Official a look of venom.

The Official sighed harshly. "Doctor, there are millions of people that could be affected by the names on that disk. I know you live in a fantasy world where everyone goes home happy at the end of the day, but that’s not the way the world works. Sometimes innocent people have to die for the greater good," he said.

"Where does it end, sir? Are you willing to risk all of our lives for that disk? When Darien dies and they start executing us all one by one, will it all have been worth it?" yelled Claire in anger.

"You’re a doctor. Do your job and butt out of mine," replied the Official sharply.

Trey, who had been watching and listening intently, began clapping his hands. "That was some powerful television right there," he said as he stood up and began walking around the room. "You all put up a good front," he said as he glanced at Bobby and Alex and then the Official, "but in the end, I don’t think you can let him die," he said, motioning to Darien’s shivering form.

"Oh we can and we will, son. You have greatly underestimated my abilities and that of my agents," said the Official.

"So let me get this straight. You’re willing to risk your most valuable agent for that disk? Is that what you’re telling me?" said Trey.

"Yes, that’s right. He works for the government. His job is to protect the safety and security of the citizens of this country. If he has die so that others can live, so be it," said the Official.

Trey stepped in front of the Official and stared him down. "You’re very good at your job, sir," he said coldly. "But I’m better at mine," he said as he swiftly walked away and grabbed the black case. He pulled out another vial and filled the syringe. "Time for round three," he said as he walked to Darien and Claire.

Claire climbed on top of Darien and tried to shield his body with her own. "No! Bloody hell, I won’t let you do this, you son of bitch!" she screamed.

Trey rolled his eyes. "This is touching, really, but I just don’t have the time," he said as he motioned to his men. Vore and Hart stepped forward and effortlessly pulled a struggling Claire off of Darien.

"Damn you!" she screamed as Trey once again injected the contents from the syringe into Darien’s neck.

The men dropped Claire roughly on the floor when Trey was done injecting Darien. She quickly crawled back to Darien and took him in her arms.

Darien relaxed into her arms, feeling somewhat safe and protected. He experimentally wiggled his arm and nearly cried out in relief when he found he could move it. The relief was short-lived however as an excruciating pain tore through his stomach. He screamed in agony and curled up further into her arms.

"What is it? What hurts?" she asked with concern.

"My stomach," he hoarsed out. Without warning, a wave of intense nausea rolled through his body. He gagged and vomited all over the floor and Claire’s legs. "I’m sorry," he murmured in misery a few seconds later when he got his breath back.

Claire scooted them away from the vomit and brought Darien into a tight hug, resting her head on top of his own. "Don’t you dare apologize, Darien. This isn’t your fault," she whispered into his ear. She removed one of her shoes and used it to wipe the vomit off of her pants before the smell sent her own upchuck reflex into action. When she was done, she set down the shoe and turned her attention back to Darien.

She felt him begin to shake in her arms and she realized that he was crying. She held him as he slowly broke down, sobbing against her chest like a small child. She began rocking him back and forth in her arms, trying to do something to comfort him. "I’m sorry, Darien, I’m so sorry," she whispered soothingly into his ear.

A huge lump formed in the throat of Alex as she watched the exchange between Darien and Claire. Claire was right; he didn’t deserve this. But no matter how much he was hurting, she couldn’t bring herself to give up the code and risk the lives of millions.

Eberts and the Official were looking away, trying not to absorb the scene playing out before their eyes. Eberts bit down on his lower lip to keep from sobbing. He quickly concluded that if he knew the code, he would be spilling it right about now. Which was probably the reason he didn’t know it, he guessed.

Bobby stared at his partner being held protectively by Claire on the floor, wanting to do something, anything to help him. "Darien," he said, his voice cracking. "Are you okay, partner?" he asked.

Claire’s head shot up. "No, he’s not okay, Bobby," she said.

At that moment, another intense pain shot through Darien’s midsection. He screamed in pain and convulsed violently causing Claire to lose her tight grip on him. He ended up face first on the floor.

"It’s okay, it’s okay," whispered Claire as she firmly grasped his hand in her own. She began rubbing soothing patterns on Darien’s quaking back with her other hand. She looked up at Bobby with her own version of puppy dog eyes. "Give them the code, Bobby. Please give them the code!" she begged.

"No!" yelled Darien in a pain-filled gasp. "Don’t do it, Hobbes. Don’t do it, buddy. I’m not worth it!"

Bobby started to sob. "Damn you, you’re worth it. I would cut off my leg for you, partner. I would take your place in a heartbeat if I could, you know that. I love you man," he cried.

"Then give them the code!" screamed Claire. "Give them the code and this can end!"

Bobby shook his head. " I wish I could Claire, but I can’t," was all he said.

Claire looked at Alex. "Alex? Please…think of your son. Think of him being tortured like this. Think of it. Could you let it continue like this?"

Alex finally broke and began crying. "Stop it!" she said harshly.

"Your son is down on some cold floor, bleeding and crying, moaning in pain. If you had the power to stop it, would you do it? Or would you let him lay there and suffer for the good of his country?" she screamed.

"Stop!" sobbed Alex.

"You’re all cowards," yelled Claire. "You’re supposed to protect people. Why don’t you start with protecting one of your own!"

Bobby and Alex sat silently, tears streaming down their faces.

Claire glared at the Official. "And you. You heartless bastard. You don’t even care about him."

The Official shook his head sadly. "It’s not personal Claire, you know that."

"Tell that to him," said Claire as she pointed at Darien’s moaning form. "A few more injections and he’ll be dead. What then, huh?"

The Official was silent.

Claire turned back to Darien, taking deep breaths to calm her raging emotions down.

Trey stood up from his seat and pulled out his gun. "Thank you Ms. Keeply for doing my job for me. I think you almost had Mr. Hobbes and Ms. Monroe convinced for awhile there," he said. He stepped over to Darien and Claire and roughly pushed the doctor out of the way. He picked up Darien and forced him into a standing position. Darien sagged against him, his body wracked with tremors of pain.

"No," cried out Claire as she tried to pull Darien back to her. She was rewarded with a swift push back to the floor.

Trey placed the gun to the back of Darien’s head, right against the area where the gland was located. "I think the way to convince ole Charlie is to hit him right in the purse strings. No gland, means no Agency."

The Official shuddered. "You’re bluffing," he said in an icy tone.

"Try me," said Trey as he cocked the gun against Darien’s head.

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Note: More intensity and more torture ahead. Read on…

Darien opened his eyes as he felt the gun press against his head. For a split second, all the pain was gone, replaced with a moment of clarity that he assumed came before death. He gave the Official a look of total fear and helplessness, his eyes wide with tears. He was begging for his life, he realized. When he looked into the cold emotionless eyes of the Official, he knew all hope was lost. The horrible thought struck him right in the heart, making him want to curl up and cry.

The Official steeled himself against Darien’s awful gaze knowing that the sad, desperate pair of eyes would haunt him for the rest of his life. He would never be able to look at Darien again without seeing that same heartbreaking expression on his face.

"Well, what’s it going to be?" said Trey in an impatient tone.

"Remove the gun from his head," said the Official firmly.

"And why should I do that?" asked Trey.

"Because I know as well as you do that you have no intention of harming the gland. We’re both businessmen here. The gland is a multi-million dollar paycheck. You don’t want to see it destroyed anymore than I do," said the Official.

"And what if I did destroy it, huh? Blow the wonder gland to bits? Where would you all be then?" asked Trey in a slightly pissed off tone.

"We would go on and so would this Agency," said the Official.

"Sir," cried Claire in a disbelieving tone.

" I’m not willing to give up the people on that disk for the life of one person, no matter how much it costs me in the end," said the Official firmly.

Trey groaned in anger and slowly pulled the gun away from Darien’s head causing the entire room to take an audible sigh of relief. He started dragging Darien towards the black case that was sitting on top of the chair.

Claire saw him moving towards the case and crawled towards the chair as quickly as she could, desperate to destroy the remaining vials.

Trey saw the movement and dropped Darien roughly to the ground. He reached Claire just as she got a hold of the black case.

"No, no please!" shouted Claire as she and Trey got into a tug of war over the case. After a couple of seconds, Trey was finally able to pry it out of her fingers. He gave her a harsh slap across the face, sending her back to the floor. He glanced at Vore and Matthews. "Put her back in the chair and put the cuffs back on," he said angrily.

Vore and Matthews stepped over to Claire and picked her off the ground. She struggled against their tight grip as hard as she could, but they were just too strong for her. She was placed back into her chair and the handcuffs were once again secured around her wrists. She looked at Bobby and Alex, giving them both a sad look of defeat. Her gaze turned to Darien, who was panting heavily on the floor. "I’m sorry, Darien," she said softly.

Darien was in too much pain to hear her. He was roughly picked up by Trey and tossed in front of the chair.

"Since everyone here seems to have developed a case of amnesia over the code, I think some desperate measures are in order," said Trey as he reached into the case and picked up the syringe. He picked up a vial, filled the syringe with the contents and then injected the purple stuff into Darien’s neck.

Darien could do nothing but moan weakly as he felt the chemicals enter his system.

Trey didn’t stop the injections. He picked up another vial, inserted the chemicals into the syringe, and injected Darien again, this time in the arm.

"Thornton, you’re going to kill him," shouted Bobby as he struggled with his cuffs.

Trey glanced up at Bobby and smiled. "That’s the idea, my friend." He picked up yet another vial, inserted the contents into the syringe and injected Darien’s other arm. "Care to help your partner now?" said Trey, giving Bobby an expectant look.

Bobby closed his tear-filled eyes briefly and then reopened them with a look of pure hatred on his face. "I’m gonna kill you! You hear me? You will not live. I will tear your heart out of your body, and I’m going to enjoy it, you sick son of a bitch!"

Darien cried out then, his lean body arching up in one long torturous whimper as the pain from the three injections hit his system all at once. It was the most intense pain he had ever felt in his entire life. QSM seemed like a paper cut compared to this. Every muscle in his body throbbed as if they were being stabbed repeatedly by knifes. He felt a pressure on his chest and had to struggle just to get air into his mouth. He started taking harsh, choking gasps, trying desperately to get oxygen in his aching lungs.

"Feels like you’re breathing fire, doesn’t it, Mr. Fawkes. Those three shots affect the muscles and the respiratory system," said Trey as he sat back down in his chair and glanced at Darien.

Darien’s body starting to convulse on the floor. He began moaning so loudly that it hurt his own ears.

Claire shut her eyes, unable to watch her friend suffer so much. Her noise and throat became choked with snot as she started to sob uncontrollably.

Alex ignored the sounds of Claire’s sobs and stared in horror at Darien as the pain overtook him. All she could see was her son on that floor. Her son dying before her eyes. Finally, she shut her eyes, desperate to get away from the gruesome sight before her.

Eberts observed the rest of his grieving coworkers and then finally took a fearful glance at Darien. After a few seconds of watching the pain and torture, he couldn’t take it anymore. He let the lid off of his emotions and began to sob. He glanced over at the Official and was surprised when he saw a few stray tears falling down his cheeks. "Sir?" he whispered.

The Official looked at Eberts and shook his head sadly. He looked back at Trey and cleared his throat. "Kill him. Don’t let him suffer like this," he said softly.

Trey shook his head. "No way in hell. If he’s gonna go, you’re all going to watch it happen," he said coldly as he glanced back at Darien.

The pain in Darien’s body suddenly seemed to intensity by about thirty times. He lay on the floor in a pain-filled haze, never feeling so alone in all of his life then he did at that moment. He felt unimportant, uncared for and worst of all, unloved. The small piece of rationality still functioning in his brain told him that this was just the pain talking, but he couldn’t shake the awful feeling. The pain suddenly went up another notch and his mind was gone, replaced by nothing but agony. He couldn’t take it anymore. He started to sob; gut wrenching sobs that left his chest achy and his throat sore.

He looked up at Bobby and Alex, a pleading look on his face. "Give them the code, guys! Please, I can’t take this anymore, please!" he sobbed.

Alex opened her eyes and looked at the desperate face looking back at her. "Fawkes," she whispered.

Bobby also looked at Darien, his heart aching in sympathy.

"Bobby, please, tell them the code. It hurts so much, man, please!" moaned Darien. "Please help me. I don’t want to die," he sobbed.

Bobby couldn’t take the tension anymore and let out a blood-curdling scream that caused everyone, even Trey, to flinch. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry," he began to chant maniacally over and over again.

Trey got off his chair and reached for the black case. "Well perhaps another shot will do the trick," he said as he once again picked up the syringe and a vial of the purple drug.

"No!" shouted Alex.

Trey ignored her and filled the syringe. He walked to Darien and knelt down next to him. He inserted the needle in his neck once again and pressed down on the plunger.

Darien’s body arched back as a wave of pain hit the back of his brain. It was QSM all over again. He started to shake all over, moaning and groaning and screaming all in once breath. "Bobby…help me, help me," he whispered weakly. "Alex…someone, please…please…Kevin…help!"

Bobby shook his head. "I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!" he shouted.

Darien screamed. "Mom…please mommy, help me!"

Alex’s heart froze in her chest. "James," she whispered.

"Darien," sobbed Claire. "I love you, Darien. We all love you."

"Fight it, Fawkes, fight it," shouted the Official, the battle with his tears lost.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," Darien screamed forever, the harsh sound enough to make Trey step away from him and gaze up at his men with a slight look of regret.

"Pleaseeeeeeee," Darien screamed.

Alex took a deep breath and looked at Bobby. She quickly determined that Bobby had completely lost it. He was whispering unintelligible sounds over and over again and his eyes had glazed over. She glanced at the Official and saw a look of stony regret on his face. Her attention turned back to the awful sounds coming from the floor.

"God, please help me!" screamed Darien.

Alex made her choice right then and there. "I’ll give you the code!" she screamed.

A needle could have dropped at that moment and everyone in the room would have heard it.

Claire gasped and started to sob in simultaneous relief and worry. Bobby seemed to come out of his daze and gave her a grateful look. Eberts nodded his head in approval, a small smile creeping across his face. Even the Official looked slightly relieved. Darien screamed and passed out, his ravaged body succumbing not only in pain, but in relief.

Trey started laughing as he picked up the silver box and walked over to Alex.

"Uncuff me," she said. "I’ll punch in the code myself so you don’t screw it up."

Trey reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He moved to her back and quickly unlocked the cuffs. Then he stepped back to her front and looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Well?" he said.

Alex rubbed her wrists and reached a shaky hand to the keypad on the box. She began punching in the code. 26693368513111980. The silver box popped open, revealing a blue disk.

Trey reached into the box and pulled out the disk, shoving it into his pocket.

Alex took in deep breaths as a rage slowly built inside of her. She suddenly leapt at Trey, wanting to tear his heart out. She began pummeling him with her fists and simultaneously trying to grab for the disk. She pulled at his pants and his shirt, trying to claw the clothes off of his body. She suddenly felt an intense pain on her neck and fell to the ground in an unmoving daze. She looked up and saw Trey’s men standing over her, a tazer in Vore’s hand.

"Now, now Ms. Monroe. You have to play fair," said Trey as he held the disk over her. He glanced around the room, looking from the Official, to Eberts, to Bobby, to Claire and finally to Darien’s unmoving form on the floor. "It was a pleasure doing business with you people," he said as one of his men handed him a small backpack. Trey took out a small explosive device and set it on the ground. He pressed a button and the timer started to tick down.

Trey motioned to his men to move out of the room. They did as they were told and quickly stepped out of the room. Trey started for the door and then stopped to take one last look around the room. "I’m sorry. I wasn’t personal, it was just business." He kissed the disk in his hand and walked out of the room.

The Official watched as Trey walked out of the room and then glanced down at Alex. "Get up, Monroe," he anxiously as he looked at the bomb.

After a couple of seconds, Alex struggled up to her feet and crawled to the device, seeing a red wire and a blue wire. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her car keys, pulling off a Swiss army knife. She pulled out the silver knife and hesitantly placed it between the two wires. "20 seconds," she whispered.

"Cut the red wire," shouted Bobby.

Alex nodded and cut through the wire. The device continued to tick. "Damn it," she said in frustration. She looked up at all of them and then moved the knife to the blue wire. She took a deep breath and cut through it. The device still continued to tick. "10 seconds," she said in fear.

"Oh god," breathed Claire as she eyed the rest of the group in a panic.

Alex glanced towards the window and then looked back at the bomb. She picked up the device and threw it as hard as she could through the window. Then she dived to Darien, trying to shield his prone body from the blast.

A fireball exploded outside the window a second later as the bomb detonated, blowing out all the windows in the office. The glass sprayed the hostages, leaving tiny stinging cuts all over their bodies. Other than the cuts, the group was remarkably unharmed.

Alex shakily got to her feet after giving Darien a soft pat on the chest and began freeing the hostages from their cuffs with the tweezers on her knife. She freed Claire first, who quickly went to Darien’s side. She began taking his vitals and trying to access the damage to his body.

Next came Bobby, who stood up and quietly stared down at Darien and Claire, still in too much shock to do anything for his partner.

Eberts and the Official were freed next. Eberts stepped to next to the Official, unsure of what to do. The Official stared down at Darien for a moment and then looked at Bobby and Alex, " Hobbes, Monroe, get the disk. Whatever you have to do, get it," he said firmly.

Bobby and Alex both looked up. "With pleasure, chief," said Bobby. He took one final glimpse of Darien and swallowed painfully. He looked at Monroe and motioned to the door. "Let’s get the bastard," he said softly.

Alex nodded shakily and then quickly joined Bobby as he walked out the door.

The Official walked out into the hall and located his telephone. He plugged it back into the wall of his office and quickly dialed. "This is Borden, we’ve had a breach. We need to close all the airports and get troops posted at the borders."

As the Official continued to give orders, Claire was busy trying to examine Darien. His pulse was weak and he could barely take a breath on his own. Even though he was unconscious, she could tell he was still in an immense amount of pain. He continued to murmur soft groans and whimpers, which had Claire very worried.

"Something’s wrong," she said to no one in particular. "It shouldn’t be this bad, not until the last injection," she said as she tried to ignore the fact that her tears were dripping down on Darien’s face. She glanced up at Eberts with a desperate look in her eyes. "Albert, I need you to help me get Darien to the Keep. We’re going to lose him if I don’t get him stabilized," she said as she reached under Darien’s arms.

Eberts nodded in fright and grabbed Darien’s legs. Together, they carefully hauled Darien’s ravaged body out the door.

A few seconds later, the Official hung up the phone and sank down in one of the chairs. He stared at the empty silver box lying on the floor and then looked at the pile of dried vomit and sweat where Darien had been laying. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wondering if this had all been worth it.