By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Two months later

It was a lone black van sitting two blocks away from the Agency. There were eight men crammed into the small space of the van, sharing air and body odor. They were all dressed in identical black shirts and pants, all holding the same gun and all wearing thermal glasses.

The head of the group, a tall black-haired man with intense green eyes, sat in the front seat humming softly to himself. He glanced down at his watch and then turned around to look at his men. "We go in thirty, guys. The place should be fully occupied by then," he said. He turned back around and stared at the small television screen sitting on the passenger’s seat. The picture on the screen flipped back and forth between the hallways of the Agency, the Keep, the Official’s office and the elevators.

It was easy to get cameras into a location when you were the person in charge of installing new security measures for the Harding Building. In fact, it was amazing the things you could learn just by eavesdropping on bits of conversations in the halls of the Agency. Trey Thornton knew everything there was to know about the Agency in a little over a month. He knew exactly what had to be done to get what he wanted.

Trey leaned over the passenger’s seat and reached underneath it, pulling out a small briefcase. He opened the briefcase and smiled slightly as he looked at the ten vials of a purple liquid neatly tucked into the black case. He reached further under the seat and pulled out a black bag filled with tazers, billy clubs, timers, wires and bits of plastique. Everything he needed. He glanced at his watch. 10:35. Only 25 more minutes to go.

**

"I’m telling you man, it doesn’t matter anymore," said Darien as he and Bobby entered the front doors of the Agency.

"What do you mean it doesn’t matter? How can it not matter?" asked Bobby with confusion. He walked next to Darien down the hall, heading towards the elevator. "Oh what, so you’re going to tell me now that you don’t care?"

Darien smiled and nodded his head. "Yep."

"You’re nuts, Fawkes. Absolutely cuckoo," said Bobby.

"Not any more, my friend," said Darien as he popped a piece of gum in his mouth.

Bobby eyed him suspiciously. "What are you hiding from me?"

Darien gave him a look of innocence. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Bobby shook his head. "No, no, don’t give me that, okay. Something happened, so you need to spill it. I’m your partner, I’m supposed to know these things," said Bobby matter of factly.

Darien stopped walking and braced both his hands on Bobby’s shoulders. "Hobbesy, it’s nothing okay. I’ve gotta go see the Keep," he said, stepping away from Bobby.

Bobby sighed. "Come on, man that’s not right. As your partner and best friend, I think I have the right to know."

Darien turned around and gave him a sly grin. "Let’s just say I’ve got some control."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Control?" He stared at Darien for a few minutes and then a wry look of amusement spread across his face. "Well it’s about time partner. Took you long enough. So who’s going to be the first lucky lady to take you out for a test drive."

Darien glanced at his watch. "Well, we do have fifteen minutes ‘til the meeting. I suppose that gives Claire and I enough time," he said, trailing off in a teasing tone.

"You wouldn’t," said Bobby, his face raging in jealousy.

Darien shrugged. "I don’t know, man. She is pretty sexy and she’s always giving me these lustful looks. Maybe we should take our relationship to the next level."

"Do it and die, my friend," interrupted Bobby.

Darien smiled. "I’m kidding, buddy. You know that. Now go. I’ll see ya in a bit," he said. He turned the corner and started walking towards the metal door of the Keep.

"Yeah, yeah you better be kidding, my friend or Bobby Hobbes will come and kick you in the old cojones. Then it won’t matter if you’ve got control or not," he yelled down the hall in a threatening tone as he stepped into the elevator. He rolled his eyes in annoyance as the elevator doors shut in front of him.

Darien laughed slightly and fished around in his pocket for his keycard to the Keep. He finally found it and swiped it through the slot of the Keep door, causing the heavy piece of metal to swish open. He saw Claire sitting at her desk working at her computer. "Hello, Ms. Keeply. How are you this fine Monday?" asked Darien as he sauntered over to the counteragent chair.

"Wow," said Claire as she glanced at Darien’s happy face. "What happened to you?" she asked as she got up from the chair and walked over to the counteragent chair.

Darien flushed slightly. "Well, let’s just say I might be able to have my way with the ladies again. Civilian ladies," he pointed out.

A brief look of jealousy clouded Claire’s features, followed quickly by a bright smile. "Congratulations, Darien. I’m very happy for you," she said as she began rooting around in the top drawer of a cabinet next to the counteragent chair.

"Thank you, thank you very much," said Darien as he took a deep breath and settled back into the chair.

Claire stepped beside him, holding a huge needle. "Which arm would you like me to use?"

Darien glanced down at both of his arms, smiling at the lack of track marks that for almost two years had marred the crooks of both his elbows. "The right I guess. Just don’t take too much. Blood loss makes me woozy."

Claire nodded and then tied the familiar rubber strap around his right arm over the crook of his elbow. She eyed a vein and expertly slid the needle in, pulling the plunger up to suck his blood into the vial.

Darien hissed and turned away, not wanting to look at the blood being drained from his body.

After a few minutes, Claire carefully removed the needle and undid the strap around Darien’s bicep. She took the vial of blood over to her microscope and poured a tiny amount on a slide. Then she sat down and began peering intently at the sample.

Darien remained in the chair, wiping a cotton ball over the puncture mark from the needle. He watched Claire as she studied his blood, noting the casual pair of jeans and red shirt covering her frame. He looked down at his own casual wardrobe, which consisted of a tight-fitting gray T-shirt and khaki pants. Ever since they had all come back to the Agency, things had been much more relaxed and fun. Darien couldn’t have been happier.

Claire poked her head up from the microscope and looked at Darien. "Well, you’re blood is showing an extremely high level of quicksilver in your body. I want to keep track of the amounts in your blood to make sure there aren’t any side effects. If there are, we might be able to use the counteragent to flush out some of the excess quicksilver."

"Shots again?" asked Darien, crinkling his forehead in slight fear.

"Not necessarily. We don’t really know how these levels of quicksilver are going to effect your body in the long run. There might be no effect. It’s just something to keep an eye on, that’s all," said Claire in a gentle tone.

"Yeah well, if we can help it, I would prefer not returning to my status as a human pin cushion," he said sarcastically.

Claire smiled and looked back down into the microscope.

Darien was about to ask her about her weekend when he heard the sound of gunfire coming from outside. "What the hell was that?" he asked as he got off the chair and headed towards the door.

Claire looked up from her microscope with a look of horror on her face. She dashed towards one of her cabinets and pulled out a gun. She began searching through the drawer for bullets, but came up empty. "Darien, what’s going on?" she whispered tensely.

Darien shrugged in confusion as he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the Keep door. Darien stuck out his hand and let the quicksilver flow onto the metal door, effectively turning it invisible. They saw a group of armed men wearing thermals and carrying explosive devices heading straight for the Keep.

"We know you’re in there," said one of the men as he saw Darien through the door. Darien quickly let the quicksilver drop from the door.

Claire eyed Darien in a panic. "Bloody hell! What do we do?" she asked.

Before he had time to answer, the Keep door was blown apart by a small explosion. The force of the blast sent both Darien and Claire roughly to the ground. Darien whacked his head on a desk and was instantly knocked out.

Claire received a blow as well, but didn’t lose consciousness. She coughed as the smoke from the blast invaded her lungs and made her eyes water. She could make out the blurry images of the terrorists entering the Keep. She glanced up at one of the men in a daze as he picked her off the floor and dragged her out the door. She looked down at the end of the hallway and saw the bodies of Jack and Clay, two of the Agency’s security guards, laying in a bloody pool by the door.

As she was slowly dragged down the hall, Claire’s head started to clear and she realized what was happening. She began to struggle wildly in the arms of her captor. "Darien," she cried out, looking back at the man dragging Darien’s limp form down the hall. "Stop it, you bastards," she cried as she clamped down on the hand of the man holding her and bit his finger.

He cried out and slapped her across the face. "Don’t do that again, bitch."

Trey, who was leading the group down the hall, turned around with a smile on his face. "Let’s go upstairs and meet the rest of your friends, shall we Miss Keeply."

Claire’s response was a fear-filled moan.

**

"Hobbes, what the hell is that?" asked Alex as she heard the sounds of gunfire coming from downstairs. She and Bobby had been heading to the Official’s office when the explosions and gunfire had started.

"That’s bad news, Monroe," said Bobby as he pulled out his gun. Alex did the same and followed Bobby towards the Official’s office. They slammed through the door with their guns drawn. "Sir, I think we’re being taken over," yelled Bobby as he saw the Official and Eberts inhaling Chinese food.

The Official glanced up from his lunch with a look of panic on his face. "Where’s Fawkes?"

"Downstairs, chief, with the Keep," answered Bobby.

"Get them, get them now," said the Official as he picked up the phone. His face paled when he didn’t get a dial tone. "It’s dead."

"Come on, Monroe," said Bobby as he dashed out the door. "Lock the door, sir," Bobby yelled over his shoulder. Alex quickly followed.

"Sir, what’s going on?" asked Eberts as he ran to the door and locked it.

The Official sighed and stared at Eberts with a look of fear on his face. "Terrorist retrieval," he said as he reached into his desk and pulled out a gun.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Alex were standing outside the elevator, watching as the numbers above the doors moved up from the first floor. They each stood on a side, their guns ready to fire. "Watch out, they might have Fawkes or Claire," said Bobby. Alex nodded and took a deep breath.

The elevator beeped and they both tensed waiting for the door to open. When it finally did, Bobby swung around and aimed his gun into the elevator. "Freeze," he yelled.

He was greeted with the sight of Trey holding a gun to the head of his barely conscious partner. "Drop it now," said the man in a cool tone.

Bobby did what he was told and dropped his weapon, eyeing his partner with concern.

Alex ducked back and waited for the man to walk out of the elevator. When he did, she came up behind him and was about to hit him over the head with her gun when a shock of pain tore through her back. As she fell to the ground she saw that her attacker had been hiding on top of the elevator. Another man jumped down from the top, aiming a tazer at Bobby’s neck. She tried to call out a warning, but lacked the strength. Bobby screamed in pain and fell next to her on the ground.

Bobby and Alex felt themselves being dragged down the hall towards the Official’s office, but were enable to move due to the effect of the stun guns. They saw the stairwell door open, revealing a terrorist holding a kicking and screaming Claire. Several other mooks followed behind them with their guns drawn and ready to fire.

The coworkers were all roughly dragged to the door of the Official’s office. Trey dropped Darien to the floor and tried the doorknob. When he couldn’t open it, he took out his gun and blew away the glass. Then he picked up Darien and pushed him through the door.

The Official and Eberts both stared in shock as Darien’s body crash landed on the floor amongst a sea of broken glass. The gun dropped from the Official’s hand as Bobby, Alex and Claire were dragged into the office by the heavily armed terrorists. The men went about handcuffing Bobby, Alex and Claire into chairs.

Darien, who was beginning to regain consciousness, was picked off the floor and handcuffed into a chair as well. Another one of the men stepped to Eberts and roughly sat him down in a chair, cuffing his hands behind his back. Eberts glanced at the Official with a look of terror.

Rage surged through the Official’s veins as he too was handcuffed. "What do you want?" he asked, eyeing Trey.

Trey nodded towards the seal behind the Official. "I think you know what I want ‘fish."

Trey looked around the room, eyeing his hostages with a wicked gleam in his eye. His gaze turned to the desks and tables, which were taking up the majority of space in the small office. He nodded towards two of his men. "Get these out of here," he said, pointing at the bulky furniture.

The men complied to his respect and began hauling out the furniture, carelessly tossing it out in the hall. When the room was cleared, Trey exhaled dramatically. "Much better. Now I have room to think," he said.

He glanced at his men, who were all standing in the doorway. "Matthews, Hart, Vore, Jones…stay in here. Cohen, Ryker…patrol the halls. Robinson and Keifer, go downstairs and keep watch." The men quickly scattered to their ordered positions. As Keifer walked out the door, he handed Trey a black case.

As Matthews, Hart, Vore and Jones each situated themselves in various corners of the office, Bobby glanced at Alex and shook his head slightly. They both knew there wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this one.

Trey grabbed a chair and set it in the middle of the room, setting the black case underneath it. He plopped down in the chair and began peering around the room. His gaze slowly traveled from the Official, who was sitting where his desk used to be, all the way over to Darien, who was sitting near the side door of the office.

The Official also looked around the room, eyeing the guards and noticing the look of complete ruthlessness on all their faces. He concluded, like Bobby, that this was going to get bad. Very bad. He cleared his throat and looked up at Trey. "What you think you’re going to get, you’re not. I would suggest not wasting your time and ours with this ridiculous charade, son."

Trey smiled widely. "That’s pretty much what I expected from you, Charlie. Total denial. Don’t be ashamed. It’s a totally respectable reaction for a person like you when confronted with a person like me. One problem though, the camera doesn’t lie," he said as he pointed to the camera in the upper right corner of the room.

The Official clenched his jaw, but didn’t respond.

Darien snorted. "I’m sorry, but I thought the camera was supposed to add ten pounds, not tell the truth," he said sarcastically.

Trey got out of his chair and stepped to Darien, backhanding him harshly across the face.

Bobby winced and Claire cried out, but Alex, Eberts and the Official remained silent.

Darien winced as he experimentally wiggled his lip and spit out a few droplets of blood on the floor.

"Your boss might tolerate that kind of lip, but I won’t," said Trey in a menacing tone.

Darien glanced up at Trey and smiled pleasantly. "Yes, sir. It won’t happen again, sir," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Bobby gave Darien a sharp look. "Knock it off, Fawkes," he whispered through clenched teeth.

Trey glanced at Bobby and then looked back at Darien. "Your partner is a very wise man, Mr. Fawkes."

Darien tilted his head to the side. "Yeah well, what can I say? This is my first hostage situation," he replied.

Trey stepped to Darien and put a gun to his head, which caused Darien to flinch and squeeze his eyes shut. "You keep it up and this will be your last."

Eberts let out a small yelp, while Claire and Bobby stared helplessly over at Darien. Alex busied herself staring at the floor, trying to block out what was happening.

The Official watched all of this and cleared his throat, trying to divert the attention off of Darien. "How is it that you were able to watch us, Mr…" he trailed off and looked at Trey for an answer.

"Thornton," said Trey as he stepped away from Darien, taking the gun away from his head. Darien visibly relaxed into his chair, sharing a look of relief with Bobby.

"Trey Thornton," Trey continued. "Of course you understand that’s just an alias."

The Official nodded. "Of course."

Trey pointed to the camera in the corner of the office once again. "See that’s the thing about

government contractors. They’re greedy. Throw a little money their way and they’ll do just about anything, including giving up the job to someone like me. You let us in here and you didn’t even know it. Let me hook up the cameras and splice into them for a little home viewing. The things I learned about all of you…I could write a best selling novel," snickered Trey.

The Official grumbled and shared a look of chagrin with Eberts.

Bobby looked at Trey, clearing his throat loudly. "Uh…Mr. Thornton, you still haven’t told us what you want. I’ve got a self defense seminar at three, and I would hate to miss it."

Trey grinned. "Oh that’s easy." He walked over to the Fish & Game seal behind the Official and quickly removed it, revealing the safe. Then he took out his gun and fired one shot at the safe, effectively cracking it open. He pulled out the silver box and looked at the Official. "Really should find a better hiding place for this, Charlie. I must’ve seen you take this thing in and out of the safe at least ten times," said Trey.

The Official clenched his eyes shut in anger and then reopened them, giving Trey a murderous glare.

Trey ignored him and held up the box. "You asked what I want, Mr. Hobbes? I want the code to open this box."

Bobby and Alex both tried to act nonchalant, while Darien and Claire exchanged confused looks. Eberts looked over at the Official with his eyebrows raised.

The Official shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "What makes you think we know the code? What makes you think the Federal government would trust us with such an important piece of intelligence?" asked the Official.

"Because it’s your job to protect it. Standard protocol in this instance would call for the head of the organization to know the code along with at least one back up in case of your untimely demise." Trey began pacing the room. "Now I asked myself, who would know the code besides you, sir?" Trey looked expectantly at the Official.

The Official shrugged his shoulders and stared straight ahead, trying to ignore Trey.

Trey continued on. "You could have given it to your desk jockey here," he said, pointing at Eberts.

Eberts gave him a nervous frown.

"But I doubt this guy could keep a surprise party secret, let alone a piece of intelligence as classified as this code," said Trey. He walked over to Claire, who was giving Trey an icy glare. "You might have given it to the doctor here. The Keep, Keepie, Keeper, whatever it is you ladies and gentlemen like to call her. She seems strong, intelligent," Trey reached a hand out and ran it through Claire’s hair," perfectly capable of keeping a secret," he continued.

Bobby started to struggle wildly in his chair, while Darien gave an audible gasp of horror.

Trey went on. "But of course, what would be the point? I’m sure your cheapskate boss wouldn’t have spent the money to have a doctor trained to withstand standard interrogation and torture techniques. And by the look on your face, I would hazard a guess that you have no idea what’s in that box."

Claire looked straight ahead and didn’t reply.

Satisfied, Trey walked away from Claire and stepped in front of Darien. "Now you I’ve been struggling with. The Invisible Man himself. I must say, the first time I saw you quicksilver in the Keep, it nearly took my breath away," said Trey, slightly awestruck.

Darien smirked. "Glad I could entertain you, I’m here all week. You might want to call ahead and get tickets though because my shows almost always sell out."

Trey nodded. "See that’s your giveaway; that junior high wit you’re so fond of using. You’re nothing more than a glorified quarterback for this Agency and you know it. You’re a civilian who got lucky. I don’t think your boss would be willing to give the code to his most valuable player and take the chance that someone would somehow break you," said Trey. He gave Darien a sharp up and down glance. "Something tells me that you would’ve broken very easily," said Trey as he stepped away from Darien.

Darien rolled his eyes as Trey stepped between Bobby and Alex. "Which brings me to you two," he said, glancing down at the agents. "Both highly trained field operatives with experience in a multitude of arenas and agencies. Patriotic, loyal, strong. You’re the perfect trustworthy employees. Inoculated against any and all interrogation techniques. Willing to go to the grave for your country," said Trey. He looked them both in the eyes. "It’s one of you. Or maybe both of you."

Alex smiled at Trey. "Wow, did you figure that out all by yourself?" she asked in a sweet tone.

Bobby nudged her slightly.

Trey returned the smile. "Why as a matter of fact I did, Miss Monroe. It seems to put you, Mr. Hobbes and your boss at a bit of a disadvantage, don’t you think?"

Alex shook her head and looked at the floor.

Trey stepped back into the middle of the room and sighed. "What do you say we make this real easy? One of you give me the code now, and we’ll all be on our merry way."

An eerie silence pervaded the room. Darien glanced at Claire, who gave him a helpless look. His gaze turned to Eberts, who was looking just as clueless as Claire. He moved his eye to Bobby and Alex, who were both projecting a similar lack of emotion. Finally, he looked at the Official, who was staring at Trey with daggers in his eyes.

Trey was looking around the room as well and after several minutes of silence, he sat back down in his chair. "Well, I guess I should take that as a no."

Darien shared an awkward glance with the Official and then looked at Trey with a look of curiosity on his face. "What exactly is in the box?" he asked.

Trey palmed the box back and forth in his hands. "The name of every U.S. government intelligence mission and every undercover agent working around the world today."

"Oh, is that all?" said Darien nonchalantly. "See, I’m thinking that none of my fellow co-workers are going to give you what you want here, my friend. Maybe you should get your buddies and get the hell out of here before the Marines storm in and bust your ass," he said in a smug tone.

Trey smirked. "Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much Mr. Fawkes. I planned for every possible contingency, including a couple of tight-lipped government employees," said Trey. He reached under the chair and pulled out the black case. He set in on the chair and opened it, revealing the vials of purple liquid. He pulled out one of the vials and held it up in the air. "It’s almost pretty, isn’t it?" He pulled a syringe out of the case and filled it with the purple substance. "Ever hear of EL6?" he asked.

Bobby and Alex both winced. The Official shared a look of concern with Eberts and Claire.

Trey saw their faces and nodded. "I thought so."

Darien, who was looking totally clueless, spoke up. "Um excuse me, someone want to clue me in here?"

Bobby looked in Darien’s direction. "It’s a torture drug, Fawkes. Causes intense pain and then death. Ten vials and you’re a memory, my friend," answered Bobby grimly.

Trey picked up the case and flashed it around the room. "Well, what a coincidence. I just happen to have ten vials right here. " He set the box back down on the chair.

"Oh goody," said Darien.

Trey held up the syringe and began looking around the room. "Now, who to use this on?" A thoughtful expression spread across his features. "Maybe the boss man here," said Trey as he walked over to the Official.

Darien, who had been intently watching Trey, shifted his gaze to the other terrorists in the corners of the room. When he realized none of them were watching him, he nonchalantly let a small trickle of quicksilver drift from his wrist onto the handcuffs that bound him to the chair. If he could get the cuffs cold enough, he might be able to snap them off his wrist. He glanced over at Bobby and motioned to the cuffs with his eyes. Bobby nodded his head slightly. Darien shifted his gaze to Trey, who was holding the needle filled with EL6 dangerously close to the Official’s neck.

The Official was too busy trying to keep calm to notice the subtle exchange between Darien and Bobby. "You’re making a big mistake, Thornton. I’ll die before I give you that code," said the Official. He visibly shuddered as he felt the needle rub against his skin. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"I know," said Trey as he quickly moved the needle away from the Official’s neck. The Official sagged in relief against the chair. Trey took a few steps to the left and put the needle near Eberts’ neck, faking a stabbing motion. Eberts’ head shot back, a huge grimace on his face. Trey grinned in amusement and moved on. He stepped over to Alex and rapidly placed the needle against her neck. Alex inhaled sharply and winced. "How many shots do you think it would take for her to break?" asked Trey in a threatening tone.

"Enough, Thornton," said Bobby menacingly.

Trey pulled the needle away from Alex’s neck and shifted it to Bobby’s neck.

Darien watched all of this as the quicksilver slowly broke apart the bonds of the handcuffs. A couple more seconds and he would be free. He gazed frantically over at his partner who was desperately trying to keep his cool.

"What about you, tough guy? Are you willing to die?" asked Trey as he pushed the needle firmly against Bobby’s neck.

Bobby winced. "You’re damn right I am, my friend," he answered in a harsh tone.

The needle was quickly retracted from his neck. Trey stepped over to Claire and carefully inserted the needle completely into her neck. "I think the good doctor will do. I’m sure know of you want to see her suffer needlessly," said Trey.

Claire’s face clenched in fear and her eyes welled up with tears.

Bobby started struggling wildly with his handcuffs. "Don’t hurt her, you bastard," he screamed.

"That’s all up to you," said Trey as his finger moved to push down the plunger.

"No!" yelled Darien as he finally broke free of his handcuffs and dived at Trey. Trey saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and swiftly pulled the needle out of Claire’s neck. When Darien crashed into him, he stabbed the needle into Darien’s neck and pushed down the plunger.

"Fawkes!" yelled Bobby.

"Darien!" cried Claire.

Both Darien and Trey went crashing to the floor in a tangled heap of arms and legs. Trey’s men all dashed forward with their guns aimed at Darien.

"No!" said Trey firmly, putting his hands in the air to stop the men from firing. He reached at the needle still sticking out of Darien’s neck and pulled it out, causing a thin trail of blood to trickle from the puncture mark. "Not exactly what I had planned, but I think things will work out just fine," said Trey as he stood up from the floor.

Darien sat up and rubbed his arms, trying to get rid of an annoying tingling sensation that seemed to be effecting his whole body. When he felt the pain in his neck and realized that he had been injected, he gave Trey a look of horror. "Aw crap," he said in a panic as his skin started to burn like crazy.

"Darien," said Claire in a comforting tone.

"You’re going to pay for this you son of a bitch!" yelled Bobby as he watched shivers start to wrack the body of his partner.

"It can all end right now, folks. You give me the code and Fawkes here just has a few minor boo boos," said Trey. "Any takers?"

The room was completely silent as Bobby, Alex and the Official exchanged fear-filled looks.

Darien took a deep breath and then screamed as the pain on his skin suddenly intensified. His body fell back to the floor in a pain-filled heap. "Claire, what’s happening?" he whimpered in a scared tone.

"It’ll be okay, Darien, I promise," she said in the most comforting tone possible. She glanced at Bobby, Alex and the Official, who were all busy staring at their feet.

Trey bent down next to Darien. "What’s happening, Mr. Fawkes, is the first stage of the serum. It makes the skin on your body feel as if it’s being burnt off when in reality it’s not. This is only the beginning."

"Oh god," moaned Darien as he rested his head against the floor and tried to relax.

"Hey, look on the bright side. It’ll let you see just how much your friends and co-workers really care about you," said Trey. He glanced at the others. "Isn’t that right, boys and girls?"

"You’re going to die, my friend," said Bobby.

"Not today," said Trey coolly as he got up and sat back down in his chair.