Mister Nobody

Chapter 16

Jack paused, still unsure he'd heard what she'd just said correctly. He frowned, then spoke. "You...you're serious? This agency that we worked for is going to just kill the Secretary of Defence in two days? Why? What's their plan?" Alison sighed as she kept driving. "I don't know. What I do know is that I overheard Ralston talking about it, and I knew that whatever the plan was, it wasn't good. I needed to stop it, and I needed help. You were the first person that came to mind." Jack leaned forwards in his seat. "Look, I didn't ask for any of this. Yesterday I just learned that my entire life I've really been a secret agent who kills people for a living. This is all kinda moving a little fast. So you'll forgive me if I need a little more than that." Alison glared at him from the side. "Well, that's all you're getting...because it's all I have." Jack's eyes widened. "You made us both wanted criminals on something you overheard from some shady government guy? He could have been talking about literally anything." Alison, without looking, grabbed the gun out of Jack's pocket and placed it against his chest. "Look. Right now, you don't exactly have much of a choice in the matter. So you either listen to me and stay alive, and perhaps save some lives in the process, or I'll just leave you for dead by the side of the road and do it myself. Got it?" Feeling the gun against him, Jack realized she made a convincing argument, and sighed. "Fine." Placing the gun back down in his lap, Alison kept driving. Looking out the window, Jack knew that their relationship was becoming more and more strained by the minute.

A few miles down the same stretch of highway, the FBI MCC was still on the lookout for the two suspects. Holloway himself was tired as hell. After staying up through the night scanning the local area for any signs of the two of them, he was exhausted. He felt someone next to him, and then looked up to see Marcusson with a paper cup full of coffee. "Figured you could use this, sir." Nodding, Holloway took the cup and sipped some of the liquid. It was instant coffee, and tasted just as bad, but at least it was something. "Thanks." Holloway said, and Marcusson went back towards the other end of the MCC. Rubbing his eyes, Holloway tried to focus, then saw someone pull up a chair across from him. Looking up, he could see Ralston adjusting his string tie and sighing as he looked over at Holloway. Ralston was quiet for a moment before speaking. "I know I've kept my cards very close to my chest ever since we've met, Deputy Director, but now I figured would be a good time to show you one of them." Leaning forwards, he placed his hands on his knees. "You were probably wondering why all of the NYPD officers denied shooting at DeLancie and Blair back in New York, correct?" Nodding, Holloway placed his cup on the desk next to him, stretching his arms out. "That would be one of the things that was currently on my mind." Lacing his fingers together, Ralston placed them under his chin. "You see...our agents often form several connections when they're under deep cover, much like DeLancie and Blair. It's possible that they could have the ability to convince members of the police force to put on a little extra pressure, sell their story, as well as perhaps...provide an escape." Frowning, Holloway sat up. "What do you mean by that?" A hint of a smile grew across Ralston's face. "How do you think they managed to escape from the crash so easily?" Letting that sink in, Ralston moved forwards and whispered. "Personally, Deputy Director...I think you should be looking into your own men rather than the ones you're chasing." Getting up from his chair, Ralston walked away. Holloway had to admit, the topic had him thinking, but he also wasn't buying the guy's story one bit. Still...looking over at Marcusson, he decided he would leave that train of thought alone for now.

Chelsea blew some of her curly hair out of her face, resting her hand on her soft, dark cheek as she stared at the glow of her computer screen. She'd managed to crack the first part of DeLancie's story, but other than that, nothing. She needed a break, something to clear her head. Looking at her watch, she saw she'd been working almost the entire night. Chelsea got up from her seat, reaching her arms over her head as she stretched. Looking around the Hive, practically no one else was here. Heading over to the break room, she started making a cup of coffee as well as trying to find a bagel that wasn't too stale. Letting the machine brew, she thought about all the research she'd gathered so far. DeLancie pretty much had a clean record up until 2 years ago, when his payments didn't start coming in from a reliable source. That was good and all, but he seemed way too clean beforehand to find anything noteworthy. Then, Chelsea had an idea. What if she was looking at this from the wrong way? What if the anomalous thing wasn't the 2 years since DeLancie's parents stopped paying his taxes, but it was the 25 years before that? Grabbing her mug, she now had a new direction, and a way to move forwards. Reaching out for the door handle, she felt it suddenly push inwards towards her and backed up instinctively. She saw a man who was about 10 years older than her with silver hair walk in, his face surprised to see her. "Oh, I'm so sorry, didn't know anyone else was in here." Smiling, Chelsea laughed a little. "No, it's alright. Pulling an all-nighter makes me a bit jumpy." Walking past him, Chelsea went to her desk. As she sipped her coffee, she couldn't recall ever seeing the man before. Probably just some business executive who was above her pay grade staying late. What she didn't see was the man behind her staring at her, then pull out his phone and type a few messages into his phone, sending it as he kept his eye on Chelsea.