+18 eps. 17-21 - After a hard case that takes the team to DC in order to catch a blackhat and prevent a bombing, all hell breaks loose on their return to Boston , when the ghost of the Libra killer comes back to torture Brock seven years after the m...
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On Tuesday morning, seven packages were received over the DC area, so Cassidy called on some random agent to arrest the first target. Gillian, her team and Brock would pick up the other six, one at a time, and try to let at least one of them run away.
At the same time, all the Cyber techs gathered at the Hive, looking rested and awake. Most of them wore something for good luck. A special T-shirt, special glasses, a special hairband, a special cap. Others brought some miniature to have with them on their desks. Tanya and Connor looked around. It was going to be nice, working among a couple of bow ties, a daring kepis, little blue police boxes, a long colorful scarf, three sonic screwdrivers. And there were enough little Daleks to keep in check the Darth Vaders and the Jedis.
While the team spread out over the city, Tanya and Connor delivered color cards among the techs, with a number printed on both sides. They pinned the cards on top of their screen frames, so their assigned numbers could be seen from anywhere.
"What's with those numbers, Lawrence?" asked Garret from the balcony.
Connor replied, to let Tanya go to her post, at the first row in front of the screens. "It's our attack order, ma'am."
Garret just nodded. It made sense. All of them wore badges hanging from their necks or belts, but not even her could recall the name of each and every tech.
Tanya put on a wireless intercom. Behind her, all the techs did the same. From Garret's spot, the roll check was but a thread of murmurs.
Gillian and the others were still on their way to their targets, so Connor suggested the techs should take their last chance to the toilet or the staff kitchen. He went out with them, to fetch latte for him and Tanya.
On his way back, he saw a tight group of senior suits pour out of the elevators to head to the Hive. So they were having some VIP audience. He could only hope Tanya didn't notice before the Ghost attacked, because feeling observed always pushed her on edge.
Garret hurried out of the Hive, arms slightly stretched out as to stop the flood of suits, and redirected them to the meeting room next door to his office. The wall to the Hive was made of glass, and Connor heard Garret say something about waiting there until they got news.
"Wasn't that the Director?" one tech asked another, a couple of steps behind Connor.
"Dunno. Never seen'im."
"Tell you that's the Director. No one else is that tall."
"He's here for the battle? Rad!"
Connor kept walking. If Tanya found out the FBI Director and his courtiers were there to watch the show, she wouldn't be on edge: she'd panic and freeze for the next couple of weeks.
* * *
It turned out way harder than they expected. Despite loose handcuffs, unlocked cruiser doors and uniforms turning their backs on them, five of the targets accepted the arrest like stunned lambs and didn't even try to escape.
As they failed to let them get away and tip off the Ghost, they left the targets at police stations on their way to Alexandria. Cassidy was there, at the vacant house from where three agents had kept an eye on the house over the night.
When Aldana's curse came over the radio to the rest of the team, Hank let out a dramatic sigh. "My turn."
"You're our last hope, Doc," said Gillian.
"Monday mornings off if I make it?"
"What about early retirement?"
"C'mon, Reg."
Fred spoke before Gillian lost her already thin patience. "If you make it, you don't have to buy me the box of Malbec you're currently owing me."
"Deal!" replied Hank. Monday mornings at work weren't that bad if he could save four digits.
And Hank made it.
Not that he did anything to let the last target go. But when he and two local uniforms knocked at the young man's door, standing at the messy porch of a shabby house, the target yanked the front door open, pushed them out of the way and ran away as if the devil was on his heels. And maybe he was right—not even the devil would want to be caught with the incredible amount of stolen goods they found inside the shabby house.
"Now who's boss, huh?"
Gillian managed not to send him to hell. "Find his computer and let Kurt in. Agent Brockner, the last target is all yours, sir."
"Roger," was all Brock replied, starting the SUV.
Whether out of good luck or experience, Brock was able to let the last target get away too, just in case. He arrived with two cruisers, wailing sirens and lights on, and the three vehicles squealed to a sharp stop before the house. Then they stepped out, with Kevlars and long guns. Flashy enough for the target to see them coming and escape out the back door, jump the backyard fence and run away across his neighbors' yards.
Brock stopped the uniforms when they tried to go after the target and kicked the door open. "The target's gone. Do you need his computer?"
His calm, controlled voice made Gillian smile—stupid man, always so damn efficient! "Please, sir. Kurt will guide you to grant him remote access to it."
