Dollhouse fic - Enemies of My Soul, Conspirators in Pajamas; pg-13
Title: Enemies of My Soul, Conspirators in Pajamas (An Epic Alias-Dollhouse Crossover)
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence
Characters: Adelle, Boyd, Dominic, Topher, Jack Bristow
Pairing: Adelle DeWitt/Laurence Dominic,
Disclaimer: I do not own Dollhouse. Or Alias.
Notes: Spoilers for season 1 of Dollhouse and season 5 of Alias
Summary: A new client arrives at the Dollhouse. But who he asks for the engagement seems to defeat the purpose of his visit.
Author's Note: The fic isn't that difficult to follow, as long as you know who the main Alias players are (although it would be quite difficult if you don't watch Dollhouse). Here's a family tree and character descriptions (with pictures!) of the Alias peeps. Also, the general plot of seasons 1-5-- disregard the last two paragraphs of season 5 (basically, disregard the deaths that happened). The only things that happened in the series finale that jive in this story are: APO was destroyed (as with Tom Grace's death); and that Sloane became an immortal.
Oh, and please do tell me if the font's distracting/too small/weird.
Enjoy.
~*~*~
The moment Adelle DeWitt steps out of the elevator, she sees two heaps of folders on top of her desk. A resigned sigh escapes her as she walks towards her chair. Every night, she goes home thinking that she was through with two months worth of accumulated files and every day she goes in for work, she finds more folders on top of her desk.
She puts her bag inside one of the desk’s drawers before sinking on her chair.
Well, at least there’s tea, she thinks when she sees the tray Judith left on the table. And thank goodness the most recent papers are separated from the backlogged files. She contemplates on adding a little bonus on her assistant’s paycheck as she pours herself a cup of tea and taking the first folder on top of the pile.
After approving the request to transfer equipment to another building and taking note of Dr. Saunders’ recommendation of a week’s rest for both Tango and Quebec, she finally gets to Topher’s report.
Her eyes quickly scan its contents. He had done what she had asked. It took him a few weeks, but he finally did it. Adelle signs her name at the bottom of the paper and then closes the folder.
She takes a deep breath and stands up.
Laurence Dominic has been purged from the archives. There are still bits and pieces of him in the system - his skills, part of his memories - but the entirety of him is gone.
She feels her chest tightening and she begins to walk around. She needs a little break from this. She just needs to walk around her office and everything will be alright.
Adelle finds herself playing with the pendant of her necklace. She clenches her fist then puts her hand back to her side. He’s gone. Never to haunt her again by just existing in the archives. She should be happy that he’s gone. Why isn’t she happy?
Suddenly, a deafening blast stops her pacing.
She can smell smoke. Quick thinking tells her to take off her shoes and to get to her desk. She shouldn’t assume that Security has alerted the underground facility. The Actives must be protected.
She hears her doors bursting open. There are a lot of heavy footsteps. Adelle focuses on not tripping on her own feet.
All of the sudden, excruciating pain explodes in her knee. Adelle cries out as she tumbles on the floor. The pain spread quickly throughout her leg.
“Oh, god.” She gasps for breath. She rolls to her side and sees men clad from head to toe in black approaching her. Fear envelopes her.
“Adelle DeWitt?” one of them asks. He was man, or at least, she thinks, it’s someone who sounds like a man. She squeezes her eyes shut. Her leg is flitting from agony to numbness then back to agony.
“Adelle DeWitt?” one of them asks again.
She opens her eyes. There are maybe four, five of them inside the room. And she’s surprised she can still see straight. Her ears are also buzzing. “What do you want?” she manages to croak out.
The man points his gun at her chest then pulls the trigger.
3 Months Ago
“It has the beginnings of a security breach.” Mr. Langton said.
She has her back turned away from her Head of Security. It is a beautiful day and she is watching the hustle and bustle of the city from her windows. There are a lot of people walking up and down the street-tiny little dots on the surface, wrapped around their little world and so oblivious to the bigger picture. She cannot say that she envies them, though. After all, she traded that for this.
However, there are some days when she wishes that she’s down there. But not to be ordinary, no. Some days, she wishes that she’s down there because it means she’s free.
“Ms. DeWitt?”
This is one of those days.
Adelle turns around, “Do we have any idea who might be trying to hack into the network?” she asks. She puts her hands on her waist and observes Boyd Langton.
It’s been a little over four months since the… incident with Mr. Dominic and almost three weeks since they brought him back again to assist in a series of Alpha-related murders (this time around, they put him in Juliet’s body… he wasn’t very happy about that). She is still adjusting, still adapting to Mr. Langton’s style. If this were Dominic, she would have been informed of the breach, the security measures that the House had undertaken and the suspects for the breach.
She’s been spoiled.
“They’re still tracing it, ma’am.”
“Do you think its NSA?” looking for their precious agent, she thinks with slight bitterness. She turns away slightly. It’s still a sore topic, something she knows she has to learn to overcome quickly.
“I don’t think so, Ms. DeWitt. But the techs can give us a concrete answer after lunch. Hopefully.” He says the last word quietly. Adelle ignores it. There’s something heavy about Mr. Langton’s presence (What is a tall, morally judgmental man doing in my office, comes to mind, she thinks wryly). It’s one of those things she needs to get comfortable with, or at least get used to.
Her phone rings. Adelle picks up the receiver.
“Yes?” She says.
“Ms. DeWitt, Mr. Black has arrived.”
“Thank you, Judith.” She glances at Langton, “Is that all, Mr. Langton?” she asks. He nods slightly and she turns her attention back to the phone, “Please let Mr. Black in.” She says as her Head of Security makes his way towards the door.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Mr. Black was referred to this division by the higher-ups in Rossum Corporation. She was also instructed not to conduct the usual background and security checks on Mr. Black because it would have been redundant, they said. Of course, complying with what the higher-ups wanted meant that she’s going in blind with this client.
The door opens. Adelle puts a smile on her face as she runs through her script. Mr. Black’s the first and the last client scheduled for the day. If this goes well, she’ll have more time to handle the new problem her House is facing.
The man who enters her office is a tall, imposing man in his late fifties, with silver hair and broad shoulders. He has a commanding presence, which is augmented by his expensive suit and the serious expression on his face.
Her heart falls down to her feet and she feels her skin prickle, but she keeps her smile on her face. Judith enters with a tray and sets it on the coffee table before leaving as unobtrusively as she entered.
The door closes. Adelle steps down from the platform.
“Good morning, Mr. Black.” She greets, “Or would you prefer it if I call you Agent Bristow?”
~*~*~
Jack Bristow knew that she would recognize him the moment he steps inside the room. It’s been almost 15 years, but he didn’t doubt that she’d forget his face.
“Let’s not be too cordial. Mr. Bristow’s fine, unless you have to refer me to your subordinates.” He answers.
“Alright, then.” She takes a deep breath, “Please. Have a seat.” She motions for him to sit on any of the sofas, “Can I offer you anything to drink? Coffee, tea?”
Jack lets his eyes roam around the room as he walks towards the chairs. There are two elevators to his left which he knows will require security clearance for access. He also knows that she can easily access security feeds from her computer and that she has a panic button under her table.
“Looking for security flaws to exploit in my office?”
He gives her a small smile, “Now that would be rude.” He sits down, “Coffee would be fine. Black.” He adds, “Adelle, is it?”
“Yes.” She replies, “Adelle DeWitt.” She takes the pot on the tray and pours steaming hot black coffee onto a small cup.
“Adelle DeWitt.” He repeats, saying her name out loud. It suits her, he thinks. The name is straightforward, formal; feminine with a hint of toughness, “How are you, Adelle?” he puts his briefcase by his foot before leaning on the couch.
Surprise flickers across her face, “I’m… I’m alright, thank you for asking.” She sets the cup on the saucer and puts it on the table, “How about you? I distinctly remember you as the most serious man on the planet.” She takes the seat across him.
“I’m doing fine.” He replies, “However, a couple of near death experiences during the past year has made me rethink of some of my life choices. I’m trying to have more fun these days.” He takes his cup of coffee and takes a drink.
Utter bewilderment appears on her face but it’s quickly banished after a second or two
“Is this, uh, the reason why you’re here?”
Amusement tugs his lips, “Although my wife would agree that I should loosen up, I doubt she’d agree to that.” He replies, “This is strictly about business.”
“Ah.” This time, she straightens up. She looks at ease now, “Are you familiar with our business, Mr. Bristow?” she asks and leans on the sofa, “Everything you want, everything you need-”
“-they will be, honestly and completely.” Jack finishes for her, “For a price, of course.” He adds dryly.
He had heard rumors about made-to-order people since the 70s. He had thought that the science behind that rumor was impossible; he also thought that if mind-wiping technology was possible, the CIA would have already done something like it. It wasn’t until he was in SD-6 did he discover he was wrong.
She flashes a genuine smile, “I see you’ve been through the rigorous introduction.” She says before diving straight to the point, “What can we do for you, Mr. Bristow?”
He takes a deep breath, “Limited manpower has left outsourcing as the only viable option for an important operation.”
Jack reaches out to his briefcase and pulls out two folders but he doesn’t give it to her. He continues,
“This mission has already failed twice, even with the use of eight Actives from two different Houses. It was explained to me that remote wipes, rare as they may be, are to be blamed for the failure of the engagements.”
“Remote wipes?” she asks.
Jack nods his head. “I assume you’ve encountered this problem before?”
“Yes. Once. And from what I understand, it uses a certain signal, a frequency.” Adelle says. Her eyes narrow as she thinks, “It will take someone with exceptionally high technical skills to find that frequency and block it.”
“Or I could just get two non-Actives to infiltrate the facility.” She raises a brow, and he continues, “It was assessed by your people that non-Actives are needed for this engagement to be a success. But, as I said earlier, the problem of manpower has crippled my division. So your superiors in Rossum Corp. agreed that I can get two qualified non-Actives for this engagement. The Los Angeles branch happens to have both of them.”
Jack hands the folder to her, “Those are the two non-Actives I want for this engagement.” He watches as Adelle opens the folder flips through the files.
“I do hope you're not serious about this, Mr. Bristow.” She looks at him.
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“But we can give you extraordinary agents. But this… you want… average ones.”
“You think they’re average?” Jack asks.
She closes her eyes for a few seconds and then shakes her head, “Surely, there are other options. Our programmer is quite excellent, if not better than from other Houses-”
“-the goal is to make this engagement successful. If using non-Actives to make it so would be the best option. If you’re offended with that idea-”
“-I am not offended, Mr. Bristow.” Adelle gives back the folder to him, “However, being head of this House, I have the option to decline this request for being… unreasonable.” She says with such finality that it made him shake his head.
He leans back on the couch and glances at his watch. Time is something he doesn’t have right now. The operation originally had a window of three months. After two aborted missions (from his team) and two failed ones (from the Dollhouse), the window shrank to six weeks.
The telephone next to Adelle rings. She looks at the caller ID then looks sharply at Jack.
“Please excuse me. I have to take this call.”
Jack watches as she stands up and walks stiffly towards her desk. He doesn’t have to ask to know who’s calling her. She looks like she’s already bracing herself for shocking news.
“DeWitt… yes, sir.” She takes a glance at him before turning away, “Yes, but I don’t think… Yes. Yes, of course… I’ll alert my staff. Yes, sir… Thank you.”
She places the phone back to its cradle. After a few seconds, she takes the phone again. “Judith, please tell Mr. Langton that he’s needed in my office.”
Adelle turns around to face him, “Well, Mr. Bristow, it seems that I cannot decline this engagement.” She says.
“That’s good to hear.” Jack replies. He keeps his gaze on her. “I would need to talk to the other average agent, to make things clear.”
“Yes, of course.” The awkward smile she shows him suddenly reminds him of Sydney’s mortified smile. “I don’t know how long you have to wait. This agent’s situation is quite… complicated.”
“I have all day.”
~*~*~
A woman smiles at him and he reaches out to touch her face…
“Kitty.” He slowly reaches out his left hand towards the gray cat and gently touches its fur, “Soft kitty”…
There are so many people. So many tall people. Walking in different directions. Mommy said not to talk to any of them because they’re strangers. He takes the nearest hand beside him. But it jerks away suddenly, and he looks up. That man is not his mommy…
“Let my grandson in, gentlemen.” He hears his grandfather say to the big, tall men in black suits as he darts past them at the door…
His father looks at him disapprovingly, “I don’t care if you have the best grades in the entire universe! Your behavior is unacceptable!”
“I passed MIT!”
The stone façade of the building scares him a little, but he feigns confidence and strolls inside…
Jenny tearfully walks out the door and he feels his chest tightening painfully…
“Welcome to the Dollhouse.”
Caught by a Doll. Caught by one of those empty vessels that want to be their best even if they don’t know what the word means. Oh, the humiliation…
“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Dominic. Mr. Langton will escort you to the imprinting room.”
Darkness.
He opens his eyes.
And the first thing he sees is Adelle DeWitt.
“Good morning, Mr. Dominic.”
Laurence tries not to show his anxiety. He also tries not to look at his hands, or look down for that matter. Whose body did they put him in now, he thinks frantically, as the heart of whomever he’s inhabiting starts to race.
He knows he’s restrained. It’s something expected. He quickly looks at his left, then to his right. Aside from DeWitt, only Langton and Topher are in the room. And they’re just staring at him. After her greeting, no one has uttered a single word.
He keeps his eyes on her. Adelle’s posture is stiff and her arms are crossed in front of her. Her face is expressionless (and carefully so) but he can see hostility in her eyes.
He can feel fear snaking up in his stomach and blood throbbing on his head. He can feel his body tensing. This is the third time. What do they want now?
“If you could just leave us. Mr. Dominic and I have something to discuss.”
No one protests. Langton immediately goes out of the room, but Topher takes one curious look at him before closing the door.
Laurence swallows the bile that rose up his throat, “What do you…” he stops and trails off when he hears his voice. His voice. Immediately, he looks at his hands. His hands. He looks at her, almost in astonishment. They put him in him.
“Well, now we have that out of the way, perhaps we should get to business.”
He laughs derisively (though it might turn into hysteria, if he’s not careful).
“What, the NSA’s calling, Adelle?” he stresses her name, “Is that the business you want to talk about? Because I’d rather die than play your little game.”
The hostility is gone from her eyes as she coolly stares at him, “Actually, a client wants your participation for an engagement.”
He can feel his heart hammering against his chest, “I’m not one of your Dolls, Adelle.” He answers spitefully. He tries his restraints, to no avail.
“Upon completion of this engagement, you have the opportunity of walking out of this organisation in your own body.”
Laurence stops struggling. She angles her head slightly as she waits for his reaction.
A client asking for his involvement in an engagement and in exchange for his cooperation, they’re willing to let him go? It seems too good to be true.
“That probably means you don’t expect me to walk out of the engagement alive.” He says. But then, he’d rather die in his own body than experience life and death without really dying, “And if I refuse?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Dominic, you don’t have any option in this.”
She holds her gaze at him and he stares at her. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t betray a glimpse of emotion.
After what seems like hours, he gives an acquiescing nod.
“Very well.” She says, “After you get dressed, Mr. Langton will be escorting you to my office.” She then turns around and walks out of the room.
~*~*~
Adelle uncomfortably leans on her desk as the doors open and Mr. Dominic walks inside the room. He’s wearing a suit (one of the Actives, she supposes. She can’t remember if they kept the clothes he wore before he was sent to the Attic).
Jack Bristow is standing by the bar, looking at the painting. He glances at her before looking at Mr. Dominic.
“Mr. Black, Mr. Dominic. The other non-Active you want for this engagement.”
Dominic gives her a questioning look before turning towards Mr. Bristow. They shake hands. Adelle then motions for them to sit down on one of the couches.
“What’s the engagement about?” he asks as he takes a seat.
Mr. Bristow hands him a folder and proceeds to explain the engagement.
She discreetly watches him. Mr. Dominic is very good with compartmentalization, she thinks. He doesn’t behave like he knows that he was out of his body for four months but what would that look like? The Actives, once their old personality has been returned, all seemed amazed that five years have quickly passed and she knows that it takes a while before they get comfortable with their surroundings. But then, they were Actives. They weren’t sent to the Attic. She hasn’t seen someone restored from the Attic.
Until now.
“You mean this is a government-funded operation?” Mr. Dominic asks, snapping her attention back to the little meeting.
“You could say that.”
Mr. Dominic leans on the sofa, “Black ops.” He states. Mr. Bristow gives him neither a confirmation nor denial. Something changed in his position. No doubt he likes the fact that Mr. Bristow is heading a black operations division, “What’s your time frame?”
“Currently, the entire engagement stands at six weeks. However, briefings, fittings and the field readiness test have to be fit into this schedule. Ms. DeWitt also has to make sure all her affairs are seen through and that the proper individuals are alerted of her leave of absence. Actual undercover work is put at four-and-a-half, five weeks.”
Dominic’s brows furrowed and he glances at her again. She unconsciously straightens her back and flashes him a challenging stare. Of course, she’s least likely to be the other non-Active, she thinks, but she also knows that she doesn’t look like a wilting flower for this to choice to be next to impossible.
“Both of us? Me… and Ms. DeWitt?” he asks. Mr. Bristow nods slightly. “Are you sure?” the older man just stares at him, “It’s not one of those cliché spy missions where we pretend to be a married couple, isn’t it?”
“I’m sad to say this, Mr. Dominic, but that’s exactly how the mission was designed.” His tone is morose and his face is expressionless. She thinks she sees Mr. Bristow’s mouth twitch, but she’s not sure.
Adelle fights the urge to pour herself a drink. After all, it’s barely 11 in the morning. By the looks of it, this little talk might extend until lunch time. She can drink all the alcohol she wants after this meeting.
“We’re talking about a mission that will require both agents to infiltrate the facility. Sir, are you serious that you want Ms. DeWitt for this engagement?” he asks, remembering that Mr. Bristow is still the client in this situation. He looks at her again, “Is she even qualified to be chosen for this engagement?”
“I’ve seen both your files and we made background checks. If you're worried that Ms. DeWitt will compromise the mission, don’t be, because she won’t. She’s as competent as you are.”
Dominic’s blue eyes pierce her for a long time. Adelle thinks that she is more competent than the NSA agent. The man got caught in the end; who wants to be as competent as that?
“Okay.” He says finally, then turns towards Mr. Bristow, “So. What’s our approach going to be?”
tbc
Chapter 2
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence
Characters: Adelle, Boyd, Dominic, Topher, Jack Bristow
Pairing: Adelle DeWitt/Laurence Dominic,
Disclaimer: I do not own Dollhouse. Or Alias.
Notes: Spoilers for season 1 of Dollhouse and season 5 of Alias
Summary: A new client arrives at the Dollhouse. But who he asks for the engagement seems to defeat the purpose of his visit.
Author's Note: The fic isn't that difficult to follow, as long as you know who the main Alias players are (although it would be quite difficult if you don't watch Dollhouse). Here's a family tree and character descriptions (with pictures!) of the Alias peeps. Also, the general plot of seasons 1-5-- disregard the last two paragraphs of season 5 (basically, disregard the deaths that happened). The only things that happened in the series finale that jive in this story are: APO was destroyed (as with Tom Grace's death); and that Sloane became an immortal.
Oh, and please do tell me if the font's distracting/too small/weird.
Enjoy.
~*~*~
The moment Adelle DeWitt steps out of the elevator, she sees two heaps of folders on top of her desk. A resigned sigh escapes her as she walks towards her chair. Every night, she goes home thinking that she was through with two months worth of accumulated files and every day she goes in for work, she finds more folders on top of her desk.
She puts her bag inside one of the desk’s drawers before sinking on her chair.
Well, at least there’s tea, she thinks when she sees the tray Judith left on the table. And thank goodness the most recent papers are separated from the backlogged files. She contemplates on adding a little bonus on her assistant’s paycheck as she pours herself a cup of tea and taking the first folder on top of the pile.
After approving the request to transfer equipment to another building and taking note of Dr. Saunders’ recommendation of a week’s rest for both Tango and Quebec, she finally gets to Topher’s report.
Her eyes quickly scan its contents. He had done what she had asked. It took him a few weeks, but he finally did it. Adelle signs her name at the bottom of the paper and then closes the folder.
She takes a deep breath and stands up.
Laurence Dominic has been purged from the archives. There are still bits and pieces of him in the system - his skills, part of his memories - but the entirety of him is gone.
She feels her chest tightening and she begins to walk around. She needs a little break from this. She just needs to walk around her office and everything will be alright.
Adelle finds herself playing with the pendant of her necklace. She clenches her fist then puts her hand back to her side. He’s gone. Never to haunt her again by just existing in the archives. She should be happy that he’s gone. Why isn’t she happy?
Suddenly, a deafening blast stops her pacing.
She can smell smoke. Quick thinking tells her to take off her shoes and to get to her desk. She shouldn’t assume that Security has alerted the underground facility. The Actives must be protected.
She hears her doors bursting open. There are a lot of heavy footsteps. Adelle focuses on not tripping on her own feet.
All of the sudden, excruciating pain explodes in her knee. Adelle cries out as she tumbles on the floor. The pain spread quickly throughout her leg.
“Oh, god.” She gasps for breath. She rolls to her side and sees men clad from head to toe in black approaching her. Fear envelopes her.
“Adelle DeWitt?” one of them asks. He was man, or at least, she thinks, it’s someone who sounds like a man. She squeezes her eyes shut. Her leg is flitting from agony to numbness then back to agony.
“Adelle DeWitt?” one of them asks again.
She opens her eyes. There are maybe four, five of them inside the room. And she’s surprised she can still see straight. Her ears are also buzzing. “What do you want?” she manages to croak out.
The man points his gun at her chest then pulls the trigger.
3 Months Ago
“It has the beginnings of a security breach.” Mr. Langton said.
She has her back turned away from her Head of Security. It is a beautiful day and she is watching the hustle and bustle of the city from her windows. There are a lot of people walking up and down the street-tiny little dots on the surface, wrapped around their little world and so oblivious to the bigger picture. She cannot say that she envies them, though. After all, she traded that for this.
However, there are some days when she wishes that she’s down there. But not to be ordinary, no. Some days, she wishes that she’s down there because it means she’s free.
“Ms. DeWitt?”
This is one of those days.
Adelle turns around, “Do we have any idea who might be trying to hack into the network?” she asks. She puts her hands on her waist and observes Boyd Langton.
It’s been a little over four months since the… incident with Mr. Dominic and almost three weeks since they brought him back again to assist in a series of Alpha-related murders (this time around, they put him in Juliet’s body… he wasn’t very happy about that). She is still adjusting, still adapting to Mr. Langton’s style. If this were Dominic, she would have been informed of the breach, the security measures that the House had undertaken and the suspects for the breach.
She’s been spoiled.
“They’re still tracing it, ma’am.”
“Do you think its NSA?” looking for their precious agent, she thinks with slight bitterness. She turns away slightly. It’s still a sore topic, something she knows she has to learn to overcome quickly.
“I don’t think so, Ms. DeWitt. But the techs can give us a concrete answer after lunch. Hopefully.” He says the last word quietly. Adelle ignores it. There’s something heavy about Mr. Langton’s presence (What is a tall, morally judgmental man doing in my office, comes to mind, she thinks wryly). It’s one of those things she needs to get comfortable with, or at least get used to.
Her phone rings. Adelle picks up the receiver.
“Yes?” She says.
“Ms. DeWitt, Mr. Black has arrived.”
“Thank you, Judith.” She glances at Langton, “Is that all, Mr. Langton?” she asks. He nods slightly and she turns her attention back to the phone, “Please let Mr. Black in.” She says as her Head of Security makes his way towards the door.
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Mr. Black was referred to this division by the higher-ups in Rossum Corporation. She was also instructed not to conduct the usual background and security checks on Mr. Black because it would have been redundant, they said. Of course, complying with what the higher-ups wanted meant that she’s going in blind with this client.
The door opens. Adelle puts a smile on her face as she runs through her script. Mr. Black’s the first and the last client scheduled for the day. If this goes well, she’ll have more time to handle the new problem her House is facing.
The man who enters her office is a tall, imposing man in his late fifties, with silver hair and broad shoulders. He has a commanding presence, which is augmented by his expensive suit and the serious expression on his face.
Her heart falls down to her feet and she feels her skin prickle, but she keeps her smile on her face. Judith enters with a tray and sets it on the coffee table before leaving as unobtrusively as she entered.
The door closes. Adelle steps down from the platform.
“Good morning, Mr. Black.” She greets, “Or would you prefer it if I call you Agent Bristow?”
~*~*~
Jack Bristow knew that she would recognize him the moment he steps inside the room. It’s been almost 15 years, but he didn’t doubt that she’d forget his face.
“Let’s not be too cordial. Mr. Bristow’s fine, unless you have to refer me to your subordinates.” He answers.
“Alright, then.” She takes a deep breath, “Please. Have a seat.” She motions for him to sit on any of the sofas, “Can I offer you anything to drink? Coffee, tea?”
Jack lets his eyes roam around the room as he walks towards the chairs. There are two elevators to his left which he knows will require security clearance for access. He also knows that she can easily access security feeds from her computer and that she has a panic button under her table.
“Looking for security flaws to exploit in my office?”
He gives her a small smile, “Now that would be rude.” He sits down, “Coffee would be fine. Black.” He adds, “Adelle, is it?”
“Yes.” She replies, “Adelle DeWitt.” She takes the pot on the tray and pours steaming hot black coffee onto a small cup.
“Adelle DeWitt.” He repeats, saying her name out loud. It suits her, he thinks. The name is straightforward, formal; feminine with a hint of toughness, “How are you, Adelle?” he puts his briefcase by his foot before leaning on the couch.
Surprise flickers across her face, “I’m… I’m alright, thank you for asking.” She sets the cup on the saucer and puts it on the table, “How about you? I distinctly remember you as the most serious man on the planet.” She takes the seat across him.
“I’m doing fine.” He replies, “However, a couple of near death experiences during the past year has made me rethink of some of my life choices. I’m trying to have more fun these days.” He takes his cup of coffee and takes a drink.
Utter bewilderment appears on her face but it’s quickly banished after a second or two
“Is this, uh, the reason why you’re here?”
Amusement tugs his lips, “Although my wife would agree that I should loosen up, I doubt she’d agree to that.” He replies, “This is strictly about business.”
“Ah.” This time, she straightens up. She looks at ease now, “Are you familiar with our business, Mr. Bristow?” she asks and leans on the sofa, “Everything you want, everything you need-”
“-they will be, honestly and completely.” Jack finishes for her, “For a price, of course.” He adds dryly.
He had heard rumors about made-to-order people since the 70s. He had thought that the science behind that rumor was impossible; he also thought that if mind-wiping technology was possible, the CIA would have already done something like it. It wasn’t until he was in SD-6 did he discover he was wrong.
She flashes a genuine smile, “I see you’ve been through the rigorous introduction.” She says before diving straight to the point, “What can we do for you, Mr. Bristow?”
He takes a deep breath, “Limited manpower has left outsourcing as the only viable option for an important operation.”
Jack reaches out to his briefcase and pulls out two folders but he doesn’t give it to her. He continues,
“This mission has already failed twice, even with the use of eight Actives from two different Houses. It was explained to me that remote wipes, rare as they may be, are to be blamed for the failure of the engagements.”
“Remote wipes?” she asks.
Jack nods his head. “I assume you’ve encountered this problem before?”
“Yes. Once. And from what I understand, it uses a certain signal, a frequency.” Adelle says. Her eyes narrow as she thinks, “It will take someone with exceptionally high technical skills to find that frequency and block it.”
“Or I could just get two non-Actives to infiltrate the facility.” She raises a brow, and he continues, “It was assessed by your people that non-Actives are needed for this engagement to be a success. But, as I said earlier, the problem of manpower has crippled my division. So your superiors in Rossum Corp. agreed that I can get two qualified non-Actives for this engagement. The Los Angeles branch happens to have both of them.”
Jack hands the folder to her, “Those are the two non-Actives I want for this engagement.” He watches as Adelle opens the folder flips through the files.
“I do hope you're not serious about this, Mr. Bristow.” She looks at him.
“It’s non-negotiable.”
“But we can give you extraordinary agents. But this… you want… average ones.”
“You think they’re average?” Jack asks.
She closes her eyes for a few seconds and then shakes her head, “Surely, there are other options. Our programmer is quite excellent, if not better than from other Houses-”
“-the goal is to make this engagement successful. If using non-Actives to make it so would be the best option. If you’re offended with that idea-”
“-I am not offended, Mr. Bristow.” Adelle gives back the folder to him, “However, being head of this House, I have the option to decline this request for being… unreasonable.” She says with such finality that it made him shake his head.
He leans back on the couch and glances at his watch. Time is something he doesn’t have right now. The operation originally had a window of three months. After two aborted missions (from his team) and two failed ones (from the Dollhouse), the window shrank to six weeks.
The telephone next to Adelle rings. She looks at the caller ID then looks sharply at Jack.
“Please excuse me. I have to take this call.”
Jack watches as she stands up and walks stiffly towards her desk. He doesn’t have to ask to know who’s calling her. She looks like she’s already bracing herself for shocking news.
“DeWitt… yes, sir.” She takes a glance at him before turning away, “Yes, but I don’t think… Yes. Yes, of course… I’ll alert my staff. Yes, sir… Thank you.”
She places the phone back to its cradle. After a few seconds, she takes the phone again. “Judith, please tell Mr. Langton that he’s needed in my office.”
Adelle turns around to face him, “Well, Mr. Bristow, it seems that I cannot decline this engagement.” She says.
“That’s good to hear.” Jack replies. He keeps his gaze on her. “I would need to talk to the other average agent, to make things clear.”
“Yes, of course.” The awkward smile she shows him suddenly reminds him of Sydney’s mortified smile. “I don’t know how long you have to wait. This agent’s situation is quite… complicated.”
“I have all day.”
~*~*~
A woman smiles at him and he reaches out to touch her face…
“Kitty.” He slowly reaches out his left hand towards the gray cat and gently touches its fur, “Soft kitty”…
There are so many people. So many tall people. Walking in different directions. Mommy said not to talk to any of them because they’re strangers. He takes the nearest hand beside him. But it jerks away suddenly, and he looks up. That man is not his mommy…
“Let my grandson in, gentlemen.” He hears his grandfather say to the big, tall men in black suits as he darts past them at the door…
His father looks at him disapprovingly, “I don’t care if you have the best grades in the entire universe! Your behavior is unacceptable!”
“I passed MIT!”
The stone façade of the building scares him a little, but he feigns confidence and strolls inside…
Jenny tearfully walks out the door and he feels his chest tightening painfully…
“Welcome to the Dollhouse.”
Caught by a Doll. Caught by one of those empty vessels that want to be their best even if they don’t know what the word means. Oh, the humiliation…
“Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Dominic. Mr. Langton will escort you to the imprinting room.”
Darkness.
He opens his eyes.
And the first thing he sees is Adelle DeWitt.
“Good morning, Mr. Dominic.”
Laurence tries not to show his anxiety. He also tries not to look at his hands, or look down for that matter. Whose body did they put him in now, he thinks frantically, as the heart of whomever he’s inhabiting starts to race.
He knows he’s restrained. It’s something expected. He quickly looks at his left, then to his right. Aside from DeWitt, only Langton and Topher are in the room. And they’re just staring at him. After her greeting, no one has uttered a single word.
He keeps his eyes on her. Adelle’s posture is stiff and her arms are crossed in front of her. Her face is expressionless (and carefully so) but he can see hostility in her eyes.
He can feel fear snaking up in his stomach and blood throbbing on his head. He can feel his body tensing. This is the third time. What do they want now?
“If you could just leave us. Mr. Dominic and I have something to discuss.”
No one protests. Langton immediately goes out of the room, but Topher takes one curious look at him before closing the door.
Laurence swallows the bile that rose up his throat, “What do you…” he stops and trails off when he hears his voice. His voice. Immediately, he looks at his hands. His hands. He looks at her, almost in astonishment. They put him in him.
“Well, now we have that out of the way, perhaps we should get to business.”
He laughs derisively (though it might turn into hysteria, if he’s not careful).
“What, the NSA’s calling, Adelle?” he stresses her name, “Is that the business you want to talk about? Because I’d rather die than play your little game.”
The hostility is gone from her eyes as she coolly stares at him, “Actually, a client wants your participation for an engagement.”
He can feel his heart hammering against his chest, “I’m not one of your Dolls, Adelle.” He answers spitefully. He tries his restraints, to no avail.
“Upon completion of this engagement, you have the opportunity of walking out of this organisation in your own body.”
Laurence stops struggling. She angles her head slightly as she waits for his reaction.
A client asking for his involvement in an engagement and in exchange for his cooperation, they’re willing to let him go? It seems too good to be true.
“That probably means you don’t expect me to walk out of the engagement alive.” He says. But then, he’d rather die in his own body than experience life and death without really dying, “And if I refuse?”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Dominic, you don’t have any option in this.”
She holds her gaze at him and he stares at her. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t betray a glimpse of emotion.
After what seems like hours, he gives an acquiescing nod.
“Very well.” She says, “After you get dressed, Mr. Langton will be escorting you to my office.” She then turns around and walks out of the room.
~*~*~
Adelle uncomfortably leans on her desk as the doors open and Mr. Dominic walks inside the room. He’s wearing a suit (one of the Actives, she supposes. She can’t remember if they kept the clothes he wore before he was sent to the Attic).
Jack Bristow is standing by the bar, looking at the painting. He glances at her before looking at Mr. Dominic.
“Mr. Black, Mr. Dominic. The other non-Active you want for this engagement.”
Dominic gives her a questioning look before turning towards Mr. Bristow. They shake hands. Adelle then motions for them to sit down on one of the couches.
“What’s the engagement about?” he asks as he takes a seat.
Mr. Bristow hands him a folder and proceeds to explain the engagement.
She discreetly watches him. Mr. Dominic is very good with compartmentalization, she thinks. He doesn’t behave like he knows that he was out of his body for four months but what would that look like? The Actives, once their old personality has been returned, all seemed amazed that five years have quickly passed and she knows that it takes a while before they get comfortable with their surroundings. But then, they were Actives. They weren’t sent to the Attic. She hasn’t seen someone restored from the Attic.
Until now.
“You mean this is a government-funded operation?” Mr. Dominic asks, snapping her attention back to the little meeting.
“You could say that.”
Mr. Dominic leans on the sofa, “Black ops.” He states. Mr. Bristow gives him neither a confirmation nor denial. Something changed in his position. No doubt he likes the fact that Mr. Bristow is heading a black operations division, “What’s your time frame?”
“Currently, the entire engagement stands at six weeks. However, briefings, fittings and the field readiness test have to be fit into this schedule. Ms. DeWitt also has to make sure all her affairs are seen through and that the proper individuals are alerted of her leave of absence. Actual undercover work is put at four-and-a-half, five weeks.”
Dominic’s brows furrowed and he glances at her again. She unconsciously straightens her back and flashes him a challenging stare. Of course, she’s least likely to be the other non-Active, she thinks, but she also knows that she doesn’t look like a wilting flower for this to choice to be next to impossible.
“Both of us? Me… and Ms. DeWitt?” he asks. Mr. Bristow nods slightly. “Are you sure?” the older man just stares at him, “It’s not one of those cliché spy missions where we pretend to be a married couple, isn’t it?”
“I’m sad to say this, Mr. Dominic, but that’s exactly how the mission was designed.” His tone is morose and his face is expressionless. She thinks she sees Mr. Bristow’s mouth twitch, but she’s not sure.
Adelle fights the urge to pour herself a drink. After all, it’s barely 11 in the morning. By the looks of it, this little talk might extend until lunch time. She can drink all the alcohol she wants after this meeting.
“We’re talking about a mission that will require both agents to infiltrate the facility. Sir, are you serious that you want Ms. DeWitt for this engagement?” he asks, remembering that Mr. Bristow is still the client in this situation. He looks at her again, “Is she even qualified to be chosen for this engagement?”
“I’ve seen both your files and we made background checks. If you're worried that Ms. DeWitt will compromise the mission, don’t be, because she won’t. She’s as competent as you are.”
Dominic’s blue eyes pierce her for a long time. Adelle thinks that she is more competent than the NSA agent. The man got caught in the end; who wants to be as competent as that?
“Okay.” He says finally, then turns towards Mr. Bristow, “So. What’s our approach going to be?”
tbc
Chapter 2