by Nikita Spoke
She swallowed before answering. She’d been through this before, lived it. She could tell it one more time. “We didn’t know who it was, at first…”
The interview went smoothly, at least initially, going exactly as Ashley had described. Some of the questions made her pause for a moment, but most let her and Jack respond almost automatically with the next part of their story, and as they took turns, Jemma was better able to ignore the cameras. She slowed a little when the focus shifted to her final week, to the time she’d spent in the facility without Jack. She didn’t have him to share the burden of the retelling, save for brief explanations of conversation, and the events had been harder on her. She knew the camera would be clearly able to see her clutching at Jack’s hand over the armrests of their chairs, but she didn’t care. She kept her voice steady, and she continued.
“So then you, Jemma, were the one responsible for the Return.”
Jemma shifted under Dallas’s gaze. “I couldn’t have done it by myself.”
“You risked yourself, multiple times, and you, ultimately, were the one who activated the cure, despite being injured, nearly blind, exhausted, and malnourished. Correct?”
She hesitated, then nodded. When the studio employees broke into applause, she jumped. Jack squeezed her hand.
“Now,” Dallas continued, “I was told, before we started, that the two of you believe that, despite the fact that we’ve been told no more dangerous employees of Tricorp BioD remain out among the public, we still might be in some danger.”
Her stomach and shoulders both tightly coiled, Jemma felt a surge of relief when Jack responded to his statement. “That’s right. First, you’ve already heard today how dangerous some of the assistants in the company are. We were told that the government was considering releasing the lower-level employees. We need them to take that on a case-by-case basis, not to do it all at once like it sounds like they’re considering.”
“I visited him. Josh.” Jemma looked at Jack, finding it easier than watching the cameras or Dallas. “He knew before we did that he might be released. He’s got some way of contacting people, and he says he has a lab. He’s already taken our voices once, and he’s ready to try again, because he thinks it’s the right thing to do, or maybe just to prove he can.”
“We tried to ask Senator Pratt for help finding his contacts, and for help keeping him locked up.” Jack looked toward the camera that had the current indicator light. “It was just hours later that the senator was taken.”
“Senator Pratt has been kidnapped?” Dallas’s reaction, for the first time in the interview, sounded genuine. Jemma looked at him, seeing him glance toward Ashley before looking back at them.
“He has,” said Jack. “We can’t prove that Tricorp was involved, but we’re sure of it. That’s why we’re here. We need everyone to know that this isn’t over, not yet. We need to save the senator. We need to keep people safe, especially the ones who’ve already been hurt. After Senator Pratt spoke, so did the public, and the government listened. I know we’re not in positions of power, but we’re hoping that you’ll listen to us anyway, and that you’ll do everything you can to help. We’ve gotten our voices back. If you want to keep them, you need to make sure they’re heard.”
Jemma sent her support for his words through their connection, then turned her attention back to Dallas.
“That’s all the time we have for tonight, but thank you both for joining us.” He turned and face the cameras. “With an exclusive you’ve only seen here, this has been Dallas Frederick.”
The on-air lights turned off, and the studio broke into organized chaos as they prepared their next segment. Dallas walked away from them, storming toward Ashley. Jemma moved toward the other woman before she’d consciously decided to. Jack, still holding her hand, followed immediately behind.
“You didn’t warn me about the senator, or that they were going to spring that on me,” Dallas hissed, his back to Jack and Jemma. Ashley watched him, her arms crossed, her face impassive. “I could’ve looked like an idiot on live television, on my own segment.”
“You didn’t, did you? You had everything under control, just like you always do.” Ashley kept her voice even, but Jemma felt her fists clench watching how Dallas towered over the woman while he spoke. Before she could decide the best course of action, Jack stepped forward, releasing his hold on Jemma.
He positioned himself next to Ashley and Dallas, putting his hand out, almost between them, for a handshake. “Thank you both for your help tonight. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Jemma watched as he defused the situation, each of the stronger personalities walking away satisfied. Her brow was furrowed and a smile was pulling at her lips when he turned back to her. “How do you do that? How do you know how people are going to react?”
He rubbed his neck. “That one wasn’t too hard. Most of the time I’m just guessing, but they reminded me of my friends from high school, before I found my way into the computer world. They were stubborn and drove each other crazy. I had to learn how to talk them down or they’d have torn themselves apart.”
“Are you still in touch at all?” For all of their discussions, she hadn’t heard Jack go into detail about any of his friends. He’d spent so long taking care of his father that most of his friends had been only casual ones.
He shook his head. “Not really. We might exchange a message once every year or two. They went away for college, and they each stayed away. Carrie’s in Boston, Blake in California.”
“Distance is hard.” Her own situation had been almost the inverse, but with the same result; her friends had come to the area for college, then moved home afterward.
“Mhmm.” He stroked her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, watching as a smile grew on his face. “Let’s get home.”
***
They’d just stepped outside the doors of the news station, Jemma blinking at how much later it was than she’d realized, when she felt herself being pulled away from Jack and from their police escort.
“Please come with us, Miss Tyler.” She hadn’t even seen the men approach, but they had a firm grip on her arms. The one on her good side held her upper arm, and the one on her bad side held her lower arm. They were trying not to hurt her. “This will be easier if you come quietly.”
They were walking her toward a car parked by itself at the far end of the parking lot. She looked toward the man on her left. He was wearing a suit, and he was armed. The one on her right looked the same, and only their skin tones differentiated them. Even their haircuts were identical, as far as she could tell; their faces were blurred at that angle.
“Jack,” she sent, trying to tamp down her panic, even though he wouldn’t be able to feel it. She knew she couldn’t fight them, not with her current limitations. Then again, she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to fight them even without the limitations. Jack wasn’t a fighter, either, and she didn’t want him doing anything reckless. “Are you still there?”
“They’ve got me right behind you.” His mental voice was reassuringly close. “Another one stopped the cops. It looked like he showed them something, though, not like he threatened them.”
“You mean they’re just letting this happen?” Jemma’s steps faltered until the men leading her forward helped her continue. “Does that mean this isn’t Tricorp taking us?” She couldn’t quite focus, her emotions shifting wildly between hope and panic.
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t look like they’re splitting us up. I’m right here.”
She focused on Jack’s voice as the men opened the door to the back seat of the black sedan and released her. “Get in,” ordered the one on her right.
She took the opportunity to pull away and study him. He was calm, focused, in control. He had none of the compassion on his face that she’d seen with Heidi or with any of the guards she’d hoped might be willing to help. She didn’t think they could negotiate with him, and—her eyes darted back toward the building—sh
e didn’t think they could get away unharmed.
“Who are you?” she asked. The man pointed, while the other took a step toward her. She climbed into the car, and Jack was just seconds behind her, taking her hand as soon as he was in. The door slammed shut behind them.
There was an opaque, black glass separating the back seat from the driver, like a separator in a limousine, and the windows were heavily tinted. Otherwise, the inside of the car looked unremarkable. Jemma tried the handle on her side, unsurprised when the door remained firmly shut. The window, too, seemed to be locked.
“No luck over here, either,” said Jack aloud.
The car started moving. Hands shaking, Jemma fumbled for the seatbelt, buckling herself in and then watching Jack until he did the same.
“Phone,” she said, remembering the cell phone in her pocket. She shifted to reach it, then frowned down at the screen.
No service.
They were in the middle of town. How did she have no service? She looked at Jack and saw that his phone had been similarly disabled.
“What’s going on, Jack?” she whispered, cradling the phone in her lap, only dimly aware of the fact that he was stroking her hand with his thumb.
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s Tricorp, though.” She could feel Jack watching her. “It doesn’t feel like them. They didn’t hurt us, didn’t drug us, didn’t take our things, didn’t split us up.”
“Then who is it? Police? Government? Someone else entirely?” Jemma closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing. “I can’t do this, Jack. We had the police with us to keep this from happening again. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We weren’t supposed to be taken. I was just starting to feel normal again.” She felt the reassurance he was sending, but instead of helping like it normally did, it just angered her further. She opened her eyes. “We should be able to enjoy ourselves, Jack. We shouldn’t be trapped in the back of a car, yet again.” She let go of his hand so she could lean forward, ignoring the throbbing in her arm so she could bang on the glass separator with both hands. “Hey! Who are you? Where are you taking us? You can’t do this! You have to tell us something! This isn’t right! We were finished with this!”
Jack wrapped his arms around her torso to pull her back against his chest, cradling her carefully against him while she broke apart in his embrace.
“We’ll get through this, Jemma,” he whispered when she started calming down. “We always do.”
“We shouldn’t have to.” The fire had left Jemma, and she felt her words dragging. She pulled away from Jack, not wanting to look at him after her tears, wiping her face on the sleeve of her good arm, forcing her attention away from the sharp, throbbing pain in her other arm. She looked out the window, but her eyes refused to focus through the dark tinting, and she couldn’t tell where they were. Minutes passed in silence, and she was aware of Jack watching her, though he didn’t reach for her as he probably wanted to.
Finally, she turned to look at him, and his brown eyes locked onto hers immediately. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “You were right about everything you said. We shouldn’t be going through this again. Even if this isn’t Tricorp BioD and it’s one of the ‘good guys’? They’re going to be hearing it all over again, as soon as we get wherever we’re going.”
Jemma nodded. She hesitated, drained, then shifted so she could lean back against him without the seat belts getting in the way too badly. He wrapped his arms around her, and she closed her eyes, hoping they weren’t far from their destination.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
Travel
It was fully dark outside before the car finally came to a stop. Jemma counted the long seconds before the doors opened, forcing herself to stay seated while waiting. She’d gotten to a hundred and eighteen before she once again saw two of the suited men.
They’d opened the doors in nearly perfect synchronization, one on each side of the car. Jemma unbuckled and slid out, pain keeping her from crossing her arms as she followed the man on her side. Jack and the other joined them, the four walking through an empty parking lot toward a small, unmarked building. It was hard to see details in the dark, but it looked almost like the clubhouse buildings some neighborhoods used to host get-togethers. A glance around her, though, showed they appeared to be nowhere near other buildings or houses, as best she could see in the night.
“Where are we?” she demanded.
The man in front of her shook his head. “We’ll speak inside.”
The men weren’t facing them. It was dark. Jemma toyed with the idea of making a run for the tree line, but her eyesight would be a major handicap in navigating the woods right now. Aside from that, she needed answers. Jaw clenched, she continued to follow them into the building.
When they walked inside, lights came on automatically, and Jemma blinked repeatedly to clear her vision. When she could see again, Jack was next to her, and the suited men were waiting. There was an empty desk in front of her, where a receptionist might sit. She could tell—not through their connection but from the way he leaned toward her, one hand loosely by his side despite the tension—that Jack wanted to touch her, to offer her comfort. He held back, though, as they followed the men into a windowless sitting area, respecting the way she held herself, stiff, upright, contained.
She needed what control she could get, even if that was as simple as not letting herself be touched.
Jemma sat on the loveseat without a word, and Jack sat next to her. She watched as the men sat across from them in individual chairs, the sort that were more decorative than comfortable.
“Who are you?” Jemma asked, wishing again she could cross her arms without pain. “Why did you bring us here?”
“We’re federal agents,” the one in front of her answered. “I’m Agent Klein. This is Agent O’Hannigan.”
“Agents from which branch?” she asked.
An eyebrow raised, Agent Klein responded. “Does it make a difference?”
Did it make a difference? She didn’t really know the different functions of the federal agencies, wouldn’t be able to say what the CIA did differently than the FBI, but she was tired of being in the dark.
At her hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Jemma. She unfolded it and saw an official-looking letter from Private Investigator Payton, instructing them to go along with the agents, reassuring her that he’d verified their legitimacy and it was in their best interest to listen.
“I’m listening,” she said, handing the paper to Jack. It wouldn’t hurt to listen to what they had to say, even if she ultimately decided she didn’t trust her newest kidnappers, and maybe they would provide actual answers, not continue delaying and avoiding.
“We’re putting you in protective custody,” said Agent Klein.
“What?” Jack sounded surprised.
“Why now?” Jemma leaned forward. “Why not when everything came out a week ago?”
“Some new information has come to light, and we no longer believe you are safe at home.”
“What new information?” she demanded.
“We’re not at liberty to say.” Next to Agent Klein, Agent O’Hannigan remained silent.
Jemma shook her head. “Why would we agree to go into protective custody when you won’t even tell us why? We’ll cooperate better with real information, not all this vague avoidance.” Jack nodded his agreement.
The agent sighed. “We have reason to believe you’re right about the fact that Tricorporation Biochemical Dynamics still has people at large who may do you harm. Investigation into a recent disappearance suggests there may be a connection.”
“Disappearance? You mean the senator?” Jemma watched for a reaction, but his face remained impassive as he responded.
“We’re not at liberty to say. I’ve already explained as much as I can on that front.”
“He has to be talking about Senator Pratt,” Jack sent silently. Jemma sat back, taking his
hand and sending agreement.
Jemma continued. “What sort of custody are we talking about? Do you mean we get new identities, or are we going to jail?”
“You’ll have temporary identities established. We’ll provide credit cards, identification, and a place to stay. Otherwise, you’ll need to lay low until you receive the all clear. Act normal, don’t do anything to draw suspicion to you. Go with a basic backstory that you can remember in case you’re there long enough to need consistency.”
“Will there be actual protection, or are we basically just hiding?” Jack asked.
“There’s another agent in the vicinity, but if all goes as expected, you won’t ever need to meet.”
“What about our families?” Jemma remembered her father’s disappointment, the fact that her mother was expecting them for dinner later that week. “Will they be safe?”
“We have no reason to believe they are in any danger. We will be monitoring them and take action if that changes.”
“We need to call and tell them we’re okay. I’m not doing this to them again, disappearing without saying anything.” Jemma felt Jack’s support.
Agent Klein frowned. “You can call them now, before we take your phones or tell you where you’re going. If you contact them after you arrive, you’ll do it only on approved electronics, and you’ll avoid giving them names or locations.”
Jemma nodded and got her phone back out of her pocket. As she watched, the phone connected to the service provider, and she caught Agent O’Hannigan putting something back into his Jacket. She dialed her mother’s cell phone, standing and stepping away while Jack called his father. Jemma was unsurprised when Carolyn answered almost immediately.
“Jemma? Jemma, are you okay? We saw the news, and then nobody could get ahold of you or Jack. Jilly went to wait with Don until we heard something.”