Transhuman, 16/?
Title: Transhuman
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Garcia-centric, team - gen
Genre: Science-fiction/Drama
Summary: In a dystopian future, hacker Penelope Garcia finds herself being hunted by a corrupt organization. Fearing for her life, she must search for help in the strangest of places.
Chapter Sixteen
Rossi insisted that she stay for breakfast before leaving, an offer that she was reluctant to accept until he pointed out that it was still before sunrise; trying to head over to the slums at this time of day was about as suicidal as handing herself over to the Corp and admitting to all of her indiscretions.
And in any case, this was probably the last chance she’d have to indulge in a proper, sit down meal. Her last supper, as it were. Whatever happened, there was no going back.
You can’t go home again.
She took some small amount of solace in the fact that David Rossi was apparently a fantastic cook; not even the Corp had taken away his ability to make the best omelet she’d ever tasted.
‘I think we should split up,’ he told her, and she almost choked on the mixture of egg, cheese and mushroom in an attempt to swallow it all before speaking.
‘What? I thought you said you’d help me.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Of course I’ll help - but if they find us together, then nothing will save your ass. At least if you’re alone, you’ve got plausible deniability.’
‘Well, as long as we can still be friends,’ she retorted bitingly. ‘Seriously, Rossi - I’m going over there to meet up with at least three wanted fugitives. I don’t think I’ll be able to talk my way out of this one, even if my mother’s the Deputy Director. My head’s on the chopping block just as much as everyone else’s - moreso, if they’re looking to make an example.’
‘All the more reason to stay apart,’ he said. ‘It’s not just your ass on the line, kid. You don’t think they’ll get just the slightest bit suspicious if they see you with the former Director? I’m sure Erin would just love to torture the reason out of both of us. You find the hackers, and then we’ll talk about cracking the file.’
‘Right,’ she nodded, finishing off the last few bites of her breakfast. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, and she’d have to leave soon if she wanted to avoid the early morning traffic. It’d be bumper to bumper getting to the bridge, even on the sidewalks. She was, of course, hoping that her security clearance had not yet been rescinded. The anonymity that going underneath the river via the Eastern Tunnels afforded her wasn’t worth the danger. Similarly, fake I.D.s were worthless - all of the DoT staff knew her by sight. In any case, she was fairly sure that the Corp would have no doubt of her relocation to the other side of the river. She just had to trick them into thinking that she was staying there.
‘Do you have a secure number I can contact you on?’ she asked him, as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave. ‘If I’m being followed, I don’t want to lead anyone here.’
He scribbled the number down on a piece of paper, and then passed it, and a lighter towards her. ‘Memorize and burn. If you get caught, and they torture it out of you, we’ve never met. Clear?’
‘You’re very big on this whole “torture” thing, aren’t you?’ Emily asked, a slight smirk on her face.
Rossi didn’t smile. ‘Trust me,’ he said, pocketing the number that she had given him in return. ‘You wouldn’t believe the depths of depravity that the Corporation goes to. And you really don’t want to find out.’
She was barely two blocks from Rossi’s place when she heard the buzzing of the phone in her pocket. It was a message:
They’re onto you. Take the ET.
The sender was anonymous, but she assumed it was Rossi himself - how he’d managed to find out, she didn’t know, but at the same time, she wasn’t about to argue. The Tunnels weren’t exactly safe, but they were a lot safer than the Corp. It heartened her a little to know that Pilgrim had probably taken the tunnels after the safe house had been compromised, and with any luck he’d cleared out some of the riff-raff.
The Eastern Tunnels had once been sewers, back when the world had been something approaching a safe place to live. They served as a hub of squalor and violence now, incomparable to that found even in the slums. Those who ventured down there usually had no other option. It was very easy to end up lost or dead.
‘You want a guide?’ asked a voice from the shadows, as she stood contemplating the cover of the manhole. ‘I can get you over to the sewers, and anywhere you want to go from there. Two hundred marks.’
Emily gave a wry smirk - to herself more than to the person in the shadows. Some people made a living off leading people into the labyrinth of tunnels, and then demanding extra payment to get them out. Con artists. Grifters. Tunnel-runners. An omnipresent force the whole city wide.
Still.
She didn’t exactly make a living out of walking through the sewers. Her entire career revolved - had revolved - around providing alternative methods. That’s all she really wanted from the Corp. Alternatives.
‘Fifty,’ she countered. ‘Twenty-five here and twenty-five when we get across. You even think about double-crossing me, and I’ll disembowel you, and string you up by your intestines.’ It wasn’t a threat she was going to follow-through on, but it was usually the only way of getting through to some people.
The voice hissed, stepping into the light of the still-rising sun. He was about her height, with light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Not the kind of person one would expect to be walking through sewers, but then, Tunnel-runners had to fit in on both side of the river. ‘Kinky,’ he whispered. ‘Maybe afterwards you’ll let me tie you up-’
She shoved the barrel of her pistol into his stomach, and he gave a soft, ‘Oof!’
‘Get moving,’ she told him, her free hand slipping into her pocket. She slapped the proffered twenty-five marks into the Tunnel-runner’s open hand.
She held the gun steady as he tipped her a wink, sliding the man-hole open and climbing down. With some awkward moments, she managed to descend the ladder herself while still keeping an eye on the Tunnel-runner.
She grimaced slightly as her boots squelched into the muck at the bottom of the tunnel. She didn’t take her eyes off the ‘runner as she searched inside her pack for a flashlight.
Her companion laughed.
With a look of annoyance, she asked, ‘What’s your name? I don’t want to call you “rat-bag” for the next hour.’
‘You can call me “Viper,”’ he offered, and she gave a disbelieving laugh. It was too much to ask for anyone to give a “real” name these days. It was a fitting name, though. He was definitely a snake, and that much alone told her that she needed to watch out.
They saw a few people along the path that he took her; most were either incapable of movement, or backed down the moment they saw the gun in her hand. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the risk.
It was half an hour later when she realized how big of a mess she’d walked into.
They weren’t sewer-dwellers - the impeccable suits were enough to tell her that they were Corp. Five of them - four men, and a woman, all with guns pointed straight at her chest.
Shit.
She kept her own gun level, barrel pointed at the man standing at the front of the group. She didn’t recognize him, but then, the Department of Security usually kept themselves to themselves.
‘It’s over, Agent Prentiss,’ he said, his voice level. ‘Drop the gun, and nobody gets hurt.’
She couldn’t help but scoff. ‘Seriously? Nobody gets hurt? That is the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard. The Corp does nothing but hurt people.’
The man adjusted his collar. ‘Trust me, I’d love to do nothing more than kill the traitor who turned against the Corp, but unfortunately, my orders preclude such actions. No matter - your “friends” in high places won’t save you for long.’
It wasn’t until she felt the gun at her back that she knew it really was over. Son of a bitch.
‘Sorry,’ Viper said in that oily voice of his. ‘It’s not personal. You were offering fifty. They were offering ten thousand.’
The butt of his gun struck the back of her head, and as she fell, it was absolutely no consolation that it had been a trap from the start.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Characters/Pairing: Garcia-centric, team - gen
Genre: Science-fiction/Drama
Summary: In a dystopian future, hacker Penelope Garcia finds herself being hunted by a corrupt organization. Fearing for her life, she must search for help in the strangest of places.
Chapter Sixteen
Rossi insisted that she stay for breakfast before leaving, an offer that she was reluctant to accept until he pointed out that it was still before sunrise; trying to head over to the slums at this time of day was about as suicidal as handing herself over to the Corp and admitting to all of her indiscretions.
And in any case, this was probably the last chance she’d have to indulge in a proper, sit down meal. Her last supper, as it were. Whatever happened, there was no going back.
You can’t go home again.
She took some small amount of solace in the fact that David Rossi was apparently a fantastic cook; not even the Corp had taken away his ability to make the best omelet she’d ever tasted.
‘I think we should split up,’ he told her, and she almost choked on the mixture of egg, cheese and mushroom in an attempt to swallow it all before speaking.
‘What? I thought you said you’d help me.’
He gave a short laugh. ‘Of course I’ll help - but if they find us together, then nothing will save your ass. At least if you’re alone, you’ve got plausible deniability.’
‘Well, as long as we can still be friends,’ she retorted bitingly. ‘Seriously, Rossi - I’m going over there to meet up with at least three wanted fugitives. I don’t think I’ll be able to talk my way out of this one, even if my mother’s the Deputy Director. My head’s on the chopping block just as much as everyone else’s - moreso, if they’re looking to make an example.’
‘All the more reason to stay apart,’ he said. ‘It’s not just your ass on the line, kid. You don’t think they’ll get just the slightest bit suspicious if they see you with the former Director? I’m sure Erin would just love to torture the reason out of both of us. You find the hackers, and then we’ll talk about cracking the file.’
‘Right,’ she nodded, finishing off the last few bites of her breakfast. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon, and she’d have to leave soon if she wanted to avoid the early morning traffic. It’d be bumper to bumper getting to the bridge, even on the sidewalks. She was, of course, hoping that her security clearance had not yet been rescinded. The anonymity that going underneath the river via the Eastern Tunnels afforded her wasn’t worth the danger. Similarly, fake I.D.s were worthless - all of the DoT staff knew her by sight. In any case, she was fairly sure that the Corp would have no doubt of her relocation to the other side of the river. She just had to trick them into thinking that she was staying there.
‘Do you have a secure number I can contact you on?’ she asked him, as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave. ‘If I’m being followed, I don’t want to lead anyone here.’
He scribbled the number down on a piece of paper, and then passed it, and a lighter towards her. ‘Memorize and burn. If you get caught, and they torture it out of you, we’ve never met. Clear?’
‘You’re very big on this whole “torture” thing, aren’t you?’ Emily asked, a slight smirk on her face.
Rossi didn’t smile. ‘Trust me,’ he said, pocketing the number that she had given him in return. ‘You wouldn’t believe the depths of depravity that the Corporation goes to. And you really don’t want to find out.’
She was barely two blocks from Rossi’s place when she heard the buzzing of the phone in her pocket. It was a message:
They’re onto you. Take the ET.
The sender was anonymous, but she assumed it was Rossi himself - how he’d managed to find out, she didn’t know, but at the same time, she wasn’t about to argue. The Tunnels weren’t exactly safe, but they were a lot safer than the Corp. It heartened her a little to know that Pilgrim had probably taken the tunnels after the safe house had been compromised, and with any luck he’d cleared out some of the riff-raff.
The Eastern Tunnels had once been sewers, back when the world had been something approaching a safe place to live. They served as a hub of squalor and violence now, incomparable to that found even in the slums. Those who ventured down there usually had no other option. It was very easy to end up lost or dead.
‘You want a guide?’ asked a voice from the shadows, as she stood contemplating the cover of the manhole. ‘I can get you over to the sewers, and anywhere you want to go from there. Two hundred marks.’
Emily gave a wry smirk - to herself more than to the person in the shadows. Some people made a living off leading people into the labyrinth of tunnels, and then demanding extra payment to get them out. Con artists. Grifters. Tunnel-runners. An omnipresent force the whole city wide.
Still.
She didn’t exactly make a living out of walking through the sewers. Her entire career revolved - had revolved - around providing alternative methods. That’s all she really wanted from the Corp. Alternatives.
‘Fifty,’ she countered. ‘Twenty-five here and twenty-five when we get across. You even think about double-crossing me, and I’ll disembowel you, and string you up by your intestines.’ It wasn’t a threat she was going to follow-through on, but it was usually the only way of getting through to some people.
The voice hissed, stepping into the light of the still-rising sun. He was about her height, with light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Not the kind of person one would expect to be walking through sewers, but then, Tunnel-runners had to fit in on both side of the river. ‘Kinky,’ he whispered. ‘Maybe afterwards you’ll let me tie you up-’
She shoved the barrel of her pistol into his stomach, and he gave a soft, ‘Oof!’
‘Get moving,’ she told him, her free hand slipping into her pocket. She slapped the proffered twenty-five marks into the Tunnel-runner’s open hand.
She held the gun steady as he tipped her a wink, sliding the man-hole open and climbing down. With some awkward moments, she managed to descend the ladder herself while still keeping an eye on the Tunnel-runner.
She grimaced slightly as her boots squelched into the muck at the bottom of the tunnel. She didn’t take her eyes off the ‘runner as she searched inside her pack for a flashlight.
Her companion laughed.
With a look of annoyance, she asked, ‘What’s your name? I don’t want to call you “rat-bag” for the next hour.’
‘You can call me “Viper,”’ he offered, and she gave a disbelieving laugh. It was too much to ask for anyone to give a “real” name these days. It was a fitting name, though. He was definitely a snake, and that much alone told her that she needed to watch out.
They saw a few people along the path that he took her; most were either incapable of movement, or backed down the moment they saw the gun in her hand. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the risk.
It was half an hour later when she realized how big of a mess she’d walked into.
They weren’t sewer-dwellers - the impeccable suits were enough to tell her that they were Corp. Five of them - four men, and a woman, all with guns pointed straight at her chest.
Shit.
She kept her own gun level, barrel pointed at the man standing at the front of the group. She didn’t recognize him, but then, the Department of Security usually kept themselves to themselves.
‘It’s over, Agent Prentiss,’ he said, his voice level. ‘Drop the gun, and nobody gets hurt.’
She couldn’t help but scoff. ‘Seriously? Nobody gets hurt? That is the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever heard. The Corp does nothing but hurt people.’
The man adjusted his collar. ‘Trust me, I’d love to do nothing more than kill the traitor who turned against the Corp, but unfortunately, my orders preclude such actions. No matter - your “friends” in high places won’t save you for long.’
It wasn’t until she felt the gun at her back that she knew it really was over. Son of a bitch.
‘Sorry,’ Viper said in that oily voice of his. ‘It’s not personal. You were offering fifty. They were offering ten thousand.’
The butt of his gun struck the back of her head, and as she fell, it was absolutely no consolation that it had been a trap from the start.