Dangers Past and Present

Darien Fawkes and Bobby Hobbes were on their way home from work. Darien's car had refused to start that morning, so he'd flagged a ride from Hobbes. Of course, that meant he had to listen to Hobbes nagging on him for not keeping his car in better shape all the way to and from the Agency, but it was better than riding the bus. At least, that had been the idea.

The two of them had been writing reports all day- something Darien loathed with a vengeance- and he was not in a very good mood. He had been listening to Hobbes going on and on about the car for quite a while now and he finally decided he'd had enough. "Oh, shut up."

"What? I'm just saying that if you'd take better care of your car-"

"I take very good care of my car, Hobbes. I don't need you lecturing me about it."

"I'm not lecturing. Do I sound like I'm lecturing? I'm just saying-"

"I know what you're saying, you've been saying it for nearly half an hour now. I'm telling you, until today there was nothing wrong with it."

"Did you check the oil?"

"Yes, I checked the oil. And the engine, and the battery, and everything else you asked me about. It just wouldn't start."

"Did you check the-"

"Yes!"

Hobbes pulled up to Darien's apartment. "I'll have a friend of mine come over and check it out tomorrow afternoon. He's a mechanic."

Darien frowned. "And how am I supposed to get to work tomorrow, hmm?"

"I'll pick you up. Seven o'clock sharp."

Darien shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Fine. But I'm driving."

"Sure. Just remember, seven o'clock sharp. I don't want to be late two days in a row because of you."

"Whatever." Darien got out of the van and began heading up toward his apartment. Hobbes watched his partner go through the door and then drove off. Neither of them noticed the man watching them intently from across the street.

***********


That night Darien had trouble sleeping. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't get comfortable. After a while he got up and walked into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of milk, drinking it in one gulp. Then he went back to bed, hoping to catch at least a little sleep before he went back to work tomorrow.

He must have fallen asleep sometime because he awoke to a sound somewhere in his apartment. Most people wouldn't even have given it a moment's notice, but Darien had been a thief for much too long to ignore such things. He was instantly suspicious. He grabbed the nearest excuse for a weapon- his hammer. He had kept it near his bed ever since the Simon Cole incident.

He walked through the bedroom door and began to look around. He heard a sound behind him and whirled around, wielding his hammer like a baseball bat. He came face to face with a very confused Darien-the-Rat, who was looking at him with a quizzical expression on his face. Darien sighed in relief, lowering the hammer. He was starting to get way too paranoid.

Suddenly someone grabbed him from behind. Another person clapped a hand over his face. It was holding a cloth with some sort of smelly liquid on it that made Darien woozy. After a moment his legs could no longer support him and he fell to the floor. Someone rolled him over onto his back and he saw two large men standing over him, grinning maliciously. Then he faded into unconsciousness.

***********


The next morning Hobbes parked the van in front of Darien's apartment building, expecting his partner to come walking out the door. But five minutes later when Darien didn't show up Hobbes got out of the van and headed up to Darien's apartment. He was more than a little ticked off. He had gotten up extra early that morning to pick up his partner and how did Fawkes show his gratitude? He slept in.

Hobbes walked up to the door to Darien's apartment and knocked on it loudly. "Hey Fawkes..." His voice trailed off when he saw the door swing open on its own. He could tell that something was wrong; his partner always locked his door if he was gone or sleeping. Hobbes quietly drew his gun and walked into the apartment.

He automatically began to note any details that would prove useful. There were no visible signs of struggle in the kitchen or the bedroom. The bed looked like it had been slept in, but not for a few hours. Hobbes glanced over at Darien-the-Rat. He hadn't been fed and his water was almost gone. Hobbes refilled the rat's water dish and gave him some food, then continued to search the apartment for clues to Darien's whereabouts.

Darien's phone rang. Feeling a little uncomfortable, Hobbes picked it up. "Yeah?"

A man's voice responded. "Ah, Hobbes. I've got something very important to tell you."

Hobbes frowned. "Who is this?"

The man laughed. "You'll find out soon enough. All you need to know right now is that I have your partner."

"What do you want?" Hobbes' voice was grim.

The man laughed again. "I always liked that about you, straight to the point. Here's what I want you to do. It's very simple."

***********


"How many times to I have to explain this? He wants me to go to this address-" Hobbes pointed at the piece of paper resting on the Official's desk- "and he's willing to negotiate for Fawkes' release."

"And how many times do I have to tell you you're not going?" Hobbes and the Official glared at each other, both refusing to back down. Eberts was standing nearby, frantically looking around the room for somewhere to take cover from the trouble that was sure to come.

"We're talking about Fawkes, here. I thought you didn't want him to fall into the wrong hands."

"I don't. But we've got other agents more highly qualified for this situation."

"No, you don't. I'm the only one this guy will negotiate with. He made that clear over the phone."

"How clear?" The Official glared at Hobbes, making a silent challenge.

"Very." Hobbes returned the look, his face laced with anger.

Eberts stood up a little straighter. "If I may be the voice of reason here-"

Both Hobbes and the Official looked at him and said in tandem, "Shut up, Eberts!" Eberts winced and backed off, holding his hands up in surrender.

Hobbes stood up, slamming his hand on the Official's desk. "Look, I am not leaving Fawkes out there! Bobby Hobbes doesn't bail on his partner!"

The Official stood up slowly, his expression grim. "I'm sorry, Hobbes. You're going to have to find something else to do with your time. I'm giving you the day off. Go home and get some rest." There was a tone of finality in his voice that Hobbes didn't dare argue with. It was obvious the meeting was over. Hobbes stood up and walked out the door, a determined scowl on his face. If he didn't have the Agency's backing on this he'd just have to find Darien himself.

**********


Darien woke up with a splitting headache. When it faded down to a reasonable level he opened his eyes for a look at his surroundings. The first thing he realized was that he couldn't move his arms or legs. They were bound very firmly with something that strongly resembled duct-tape. The second thing he realized was that he couldn't see.

Darien's immediate reaction was that he was blind again. He started to panic, but after a moment he realized that this darkness was the normal kind, not the total darkness that he had been forced to live with for a month. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Apparently the lights to the room were turned off.

He tried to move, but instantly regretted it when his head began buzzing like a hive of bees. He let out a loud moan. Whatever that guy had stuck in his face had left him with a hangover roughly the size of the Titanic. It had also left him slightly groggy and more than a little cranky. He'd give just about anything for a nice warm cup of coffee right now. He was so desperate he was almost willing to drink some of that decaf latte stuff that Hobbes liked. Almost.

A door opened and the silhouette of a man appeared in the doorway. The man flipped on a light-switch and Darien winced at the sudden brightness. When his eyes had adjusted to the light he got his first good look at his captor. The man was tall and muscular, with black hair and wild eyes that made him seem very dangerous. He looked to be very formidable in a fight.

"Good morning, Mr. Fawkes. I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. If they'd been different I'm sure we could have been friends."

"Not from what I've seen."

The man smiled. "I've been watching you for quite some time now, Mr. Fawkes. You and your partner..." His voice trailed off menacingly.

"Now I know I wouldn't like you. I don't like being spied on."

"Then why do you work for the Agency? They have their eye on you twenty-four hours a day."

Darien frowned. He was sure he would have proved himself to the Official by now... Of course this might just be a ploy to get on his nerves, but it could just as easily be true. His headache was starting to manifest itself again. He decided to think about that later. "Why am I here?"

"You don't need to know that yet."

Darien rolled his eyes. "Oh great. Need-to-know information."

"What you do need to know is that if you try to escape I'll kill you."

Darien frowned. Most people didn't threaten to kill him, they usually threatened to remove the gland- or at least milk it's quicksilver. Something was definitely up with this guy. Maybe he didn't know about the gland. For several months now Darien had been using it only for agency purposes, although he would have liked nothing better than to pull a prank here and there. This was getting way too complicated. "Will you at least tell me your name?"

A slight frown crossed the man's face and he began pacing the room thoughtfully. After a moment he turned to Darien. "Yes, I can do that. My name is Leo Barinski."

"Barinski, huh?" Darien tried to remember if he'd ever heard that name before but his mind came up with a blank. He still had no clue who this guy was. Darien moaned softly; his headache was getting worse by the moment.

"It's been nice meeting you, Mr. Fawkes. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some business to attend to." Barinski walked out of the room, flipping the light-switch back off as he left. Darien's vision was plunged back into darkness.

**********


Hobbes walked into an abandoned warehouse, his gun at the ready. He was at the address the man on the phone had given him, but so far he had yet to see a sign of anything other than a couple of rats which had scurried quickly out of his way. He was getting very uncomfortable. Something didn't feel right. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but the feeling lingered at the back of his mind, refusing to leave him alone.

Suddenly a shot was fired in his direction, whizzing by just inches from his ear. He immediately ran for cover, trying to figure out where the shot had come from. Normally he would have been able to pinpoint the exact position of the shooter, but the sound of it had been muffled. Also, the noise echoed through the warehouse, confusing his senses.

Hobbes decided to let whoever was shooting at him know who he was. "I'm a federal agent!" The only answer he got in return was another bullet. It barely missed him. Whoever this guy was, he was a good aim. And he had no respect for the law. Not a good combination. Hobbes let off several shots in what he thought was the direction the bullets were coming from, then dashed for another hiding place.

An eerie voice echoed through the warehouse. "You can't hide forever, Hobbes." Hobbes paused for a second while shoving another clip into his gun. How did this guy know his name? Now that he thought about it, this guy also sounded a lot like the man from the phone. Hobbes was starting to get a really bad feeling about this whole thing.

"I thought we were going to negotiate!" he yelled, then fired his gun several times in the general direction of the man who was shooting at him.

"You thought wrong." Hobbes realized that the voice was coming from behind him and whirled around, coming face to face with Leo Barinski, who was smiling evilly and aiming a gun squarely at Hobbes' chest. Hobbes' eyes widened in recognition.

"You-" he was cut off as Barinski fired his gun. Hobbes looked down at his chest and saw a tranquilizer dart quivering there. He looked back up at Barinski, shock clearly evident on his features. Then he crumpled to the ground.

Barinski turned toward where the shots had been fired. "You can come out now." A man dressed in dark clothes and carrying a sniper's rifle stepped out into the middle of the room. Without a word he hoisted Hobbes over his shoulder and carried him out of the warehouse, dumping him into the trunk of a waiting car.

**********


Darien sat listlessly in what he had begun to think of lovingly as his cell. He was getting very hungry. The last time he had eaten had been the night before, and he hadn't eaten too much then. He had also managed to develop a very irritating itch in the small of his back and had no way to scratch it. It was bugging him to no end.

He had tried gnawing at the tape around his wrists earlier, but it had been wrapped too tightly around them. Also, it tasted awful. He had given up on that idea rather quickly. Now he was keeping himself occupied by staring at walls he could barely see and quietly reciting quotes from memory. He was starting to run out.

He was interrupted when the basement door was opened and a couple of men walked in, one of them brandishing a knife. Darien looked at the man with the knife nervously, but all he did was cut the tape around Darien's wrists and ankles. The man and his companion escorted Darien out of the room and led him down a short hallway. Then they pushed him inside another door, following behind him.

There were two chairs in the room. Hobbes was slumped in one of them. His arms were duct-taped to the chair, as were his legs. He was unconscious. Darien looked at him in surprise.

"Hobbes!" Before Darien could say anything else, he was shoved into the other chair and taped down in the same manner as Hobbes. The two guards walked out the door, leaving Darien alone with his partner. After a while, Hobbes began to stir. "Hobbes, are you okay?"

Hobbes groaned. "Yeah..." His eyes snapped open as he realized who he was talking to. "Fawkes?"

Darien smiled. "The one and only."

"How ya doin'?"

"Pretty good, considering. How about you?"

"I've been better. I've got a headache the size of an elephant."

Darien nodded. "I know what you mean. I woke up this morning with a killer hangover, and I didn't have anything to drink last night. I think they plan those knock-out drugs that way on purpose."

"'Course they do, it keeps the prisoners from trying to escape."

"Pretty good trick unless you're the prisoner."

Hobbes nodded, then winced at the pain it caused his head. "You said it." The two of them lapsed into silence. Darien stared into space for a while, lost in thought. Then he turned his head toward Hobbes.

"Let me ask you something, you ever heard of a guy named Leo Barinski?"

Hobbes frowned. "Yeah. Yeah, I have."

"Is there something going on between you two or something? Because he doesn't seem to like you very much."

Hobbes let out a contemptuous snort. "Now that's the understatement of the century."

Darien looked at Hobbes expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't Darien decided to give him a little prompting. "So, why does Barinski hate you so much? Does he have a reason?"

Hobbes sighed. "He was my partner a while back, when I was with the FBI. I caught him selling information to the Mafia. I busted him, he got sent to jail. He got bailed out a couple of months ago."

"And you didn't tell me this because..."

"Hey, I never thought he'd use you to get to me! I was thinking he'd take a more direct approach and just shoot me in my sleep."

"And you thought I wouldn't care if my partner got his head blown off?"

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I don't need you worrying about me and following me around twenty-four hours a day!"

Darien nodded reluctantly. "Point taken."

"Besides, I've got a very high-quality security system in my apartment. I didn't think he'd have a chance to get close enough to me to do anything."

"Yeah, well, you were wrong about that, weren't you?" Hobbes said nothing, his face hardening. Darien realized that he was probably blaming himself for what had happened. "Hey, it's not your fault I'm here."

"Wanna bet?"

"Come on Hobbes, we don't have time for you to beat yourself up like this. We've got to figure out a way to get out of here before Barinski decides to shoot you or something." At that moment Leo Barinski walked through the door. He was holding a large, wicked-looking knife.

"Hello Hobbes. Lets have some fun, shall we?"

Darien and Hobbes looked at each other. "Oh crap."

***********


Hobbes watched as Barinski entered the room, knife in hand. His initial reaction was the same as Darien's. "Oh crap." Barinski smiled at the comment, raising an eyebrow at the two men who were tied up next to each other.

"Sounds like you two have been working together for a while."

Hobbes glared at him. "Yeah, seems like forever."

"You know Hobbes, I never liked having you as a partner."

"I could say the same thing about you."

Barinski continued speaking, ignoring Hobbes' comment. "You were too nosy, too paranoid. I had a good thing going there for a while, and I didn't take too kindly to you spoiling things for me."

Darien cut in. "Yeah, well I didn't take very kindly to you kidnapping me and leaving me tied up in a room for six hours. But things don't always work out the way we plan."

Barinski turned toward Darien, his eyes starting to flash with anger. "Was I talking to you?"

"No, but I didn't like the way you were talking to my partner."

"And I don't like the way you're talking to me right now."

"Yeah well, life's tough. Get a helmet."

"Shut up Fawkes," Hobbes said warningly, trying to keep his partner out of trouble. When Barinski got angry he got dangerous. Hobbes had seen his brutal questioning techniques back when they had been partners, and he had met several men who had been severely injured after crossing paths with the agent. Hobbes didn't want Darien to lose a limb because he mouthed off to the wrong guy. However, Darien didn't seem to take the hint.

"You wanna know what your problem is? You're over-confident about your situation here. You think that just because you've got both of us tied to chairs you've got the advantage. But you're wrong."

"And your problem is that you're just plain stupid." Barinski walked over to Darien and placed the knife blade against his throat.

Hobbes tried desperately to think of a way to get the knife away from Darien. "Look Barinski, Fawkes has nothing to do with this. I'm the one you've got a score to settle with. So you just leave him alone and come straight after me."

"You'd like me to do that, wouldn't you? But I know you, Hobbes. I know how you think. You'd rather die than see anything happen to your partner. And since my goal here is to see you suffer, I think I'm going to have a little fun with him before I get to you."

He moved his knife up to Darien's ear and nicked it slightly. Darien took a sharp breath inward, but other than that gave no reaction to the pain. Barinski seemed dissatisfied. He sliced a thin line along Darien's cheek, watching the blood trickle down his face. Darien was breathing heavily, but he still refused to react. Barinski frowned.

"Your partner seems to be very good at hiding pain. We'll see how long that lasts." Barinski paused for a minute, watching the blood trickle down the knife blade. Then he stabbed it hard into Darien's arm, just inches away from his hand. Darien yelped in surprise, staring at the knife impaled in his arm. Hobbes was filled with a dark anger.

"Barinski, I'm going to kill you!"

Barinski turned toward Hobbes and smiled. "You are such a wimp." Then he lunged at Hobbes, knocking both him and his chair end over end. Barinski proceeded to beat on Hobbes with his hands and fists, relishing each punch. Eventually the repeated blows knocked Hobbes unconscious.

***********


Darien watched angrily as Barinski struck Hobbes, hitting him again and again. It was obvious that Hobbes was already unconscious, but still Barinski continued his assault, oblivious to all around him.

Darien looked down at the knife embedded in his arm. The pain was starting to lessen, but with what he had in mind it wouldn't stay that way for long. Darien leaned down, clamping his mouth around the knife's hilt, and pulled his head back sharply. The pain was intense and it was all he could do not to cry out, but he managed to get the blade out of his arm. He then proceeded to cut the tape binding his right hand to the chair, although he made several nicks and cuts along his wrist in the process.

After a minute he was free. He stood up and quicksilvered, walking over and tapping Barinski on the shoulder. "Boo." Barinski turned around in surprise. Darien punched him hard in the face with his good hand. Barinski attempted to fight back, but as far as he could tell he was grappling with thin air. Before long he was lying on the ground, barely conscious.

Darien hefted him up and placed him in the chair that was left standing upright. He then wrapped several coils of duct-tape around Barinski's arms and legs and walked over to Hobbes, who was beginning to stir. Darien hurriedly cut him loose from the chair.

"Hobbes, are you okay?"

"Would you stop asking me that? I'm fine. Kind of sore, though." Hobbes glanced at Darien's arm. "How about you, are you alright?"

"I've been better."

Hobbes walked over for a closer look at Darien's arm, wincing at the damage he saw. "We've got to get you to a doctor."

"First thing's first. Let's wrap things up here."

Hobbes smiled. "Piece of cake." At that moment the two men who had escorted Darien into the room charged through the door, brandishing a couple of rather large guns. "Or not."

Darien looked at the two men in annoyance. "I am so tired of you guys." He quicksilvered and walked over to the two guards, who were looking at where Darien had been moments ago with confusion and fear on their faces. Darien smashed their heads together, then let them fall to the floor.

Hobbes raised an eyebrow. "Not bad." Darien reappeared, a cocky grin on his face.

"Now we can go to the hospital. But let's call the police first, okay?"

"Sure, sounds fine to me." The two partners walked out of the room, Darien cradling his injured arm to his chest. Hobbes gave his partner a sly look. "So, about your car..."

"Hobbes!"



The End

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