[fic] Losing Time (Primeval/Losers) 2b - Don't Shoot!
Part B
Sarah almost whispered it. "Site 333."
Becker and Jenny exchanged confused looks. Sarah didn't blame them; in fact, she'd figured it out by herself not too long ago thanks to Helen's diary, but hadn't mentioned it to anyone. There had been no point - no anomaly, no way of getting there, nothing.
Helen's diary had scribbles and dates all over it, but one constant that remained on almost every other page was a reference number - three-three-thee. It wasn't until Sarah had read through three-quarters of Helen's notes that she realized Helen had a few other numbers jotted down as well. They were single mentions though, listed in no order that she could distinguish. But the numbers triggered something in her head, like they were familiar in some way. A simple search of 333 with the special search engine Connor had designed (to focus on history and less on current events, after Connor spent one day too many cursing Google for being too bloody effective at finding, well, everything), brought up the site of the first family. As soon as she saw it, the rest of the numbers instantly made sense - they were archaeological dig sites. All sites where examples of the earliest hominids had been found.
Sarah didn't know Helen's plans, exactly. But she also knew A) Helen had no love for humanity as it stood, and a lot of frightening ideas kept popping into her head when she thought about it. "Site 333," she repeated. "The site of the First Family - the first finding of the earliest hominids, the first evolution of humanity as it exists today."
Becker frowned. "Why would she go there?"
Sarah shook her head. "I can't be certain."
Jenny folded her arms as her brows furrowed together. "Helen never does anything with a reason and a plan." She snorted. “As much as I’m loathe to admit, she’s too damn brilliant for her own good. She has something in mind.”
"I don't know," Sarah repeated, a hint of frustration tinting her words.
"Other than being the first finding," Becker cut it. "Is there anything else about that site that might give us a clue?"
"There's tons of reports on Site 333 published all over the web," Sarah said automatically. "The only thing I can think of is that they were all--" she froze mid-word, eyes wide and feeling the blood abruptly drain from her face. "Oh my god."
Jenny and Becker stepped forward, Becker going so far as to steady her with a hand on her shoulder. Sarah realized she was shaking all over. "What is it Sarah?" Jenny repeated in an urgent tone. "Sarah?"
"The First Family," Sarah choked out. "They were... they were all killed. The whole family unit of thirty-three individuals. No one knows why." She swallowed hard. "What if Helen is the one who killed them? What if she, she went back to the past, and-and-and--"
"Killed them?"
Sarah pointed her finger at Jenny. "Yes. That."
Becker looked confused. "But why would she do that?"
"Helen hates humanity," Sarah said, desperately urging them to understand. "So maybe she's going to destroy humanity itself."
Jenny blinked. "She wipes out the first 'humans'..."
"And humanity as we know it never evolves," Sarah finished for her. "She's going to create a tabula rasa - a blank slate."
Becker looked skeptical. "How sure can we be about this? It sounds a little.... extreme?"
Jenny shot him a look. "It actually sounds right up her alley," she said firmly. "She was always crazy as well as brilliant."
"That's why she kept insisting she was going to change everything, we didn't know what 'everything' was," Sarah rambled, her thoughts racing a million miles ahead of her tongue. She looked down at the device almost reverently. "This may be the only thing that will save us from complete extinction."
"I hate to point this out, but it's broken," Jenny pointed out. "We're not going to get far with a broken Anomaly Opener, or whatever you call it."
"I'm motivated enough if you're attempting to get me with the reverse psychology again, Jenny," Sarah said, sending her friend and reinstated team leader a small smile. She turned around and strode over to Connor's desk, hesitating for only a moment before running her hand across the tools laid out on top. She picked up a small screwdriver, applied it to the device in her hand, and quickly worked off the outer casing. A moment later, she was reaching in, gently pulling small wires out of the way, searching for...there it was. Plucking out a small black chip, she held it up between her fingers, turning to look back at Becker and Jenny who were watching her curiously. "The device is not the important thing right now. This chip is. If one of our computer techs can tell us the information on it, we can use it to rebuild it." She frowned, bringing the chip back down to peer at it doubtfully. "However, if it's corrupted, or coded, or even just empty, it will be useless to us."
"My men and I will be back in there tomorrow," Becker said firmly. "We'll find another one. If that really is our future - if that really is the ARC, I doubt there's only a few of them. I'm willing to bet that like the detectors, Connor made one for every member of the team."
"What makes you think Connor made this?" asked Sarah.
Becker nodded at the Anomaly Detector, and the original prototype of the Anomaly Sealer standing by Connor's table. "Because he invented those, and then built the light refracting device that sorted out the key in the first place," he said firmly. "It would be just like him to move on from that to developing these devices to open Anomalies, since he's already figured out how to close them."
Sarah and Jenny both smiled at the conviction in his voice. "You're right," Sarah said, nodding her head. "This has Connor written all over it."
"Anyway, like I said - we'll scour the place and find more of them. Or maybe an intact computer, something. If that chip doesn't work, at least we know what to look for now," Becker finished. He nodded at the two women. "On that note, I'll leave you to it. I've got to check the supplies for tomorrow's trip.
"I can't believe that anomaly is still open," Jenny said, looking amazed.
"We think it has something to do with Connor's Sealer," Sarah said absently. "The anomalies seem to have a finite amount of energy they expend staying open. Sealing them is like freezing them--" she paused, and looked at Jenny apologetically.
Jenny waved her on with a quirked upper lip.
"--in place. The Sealer uses its energy to hold it, much like the Sun Cage was used by the ancient Egyptians to trap anomalies in the past," Sarah finished. “Wow. Connor was following on the heels of the ancient Egyptians.” She smiled. “That’s pretty cool, actually.”
“Cool but rather confusing for me,” Jenny admitted. “I haven’t had a chance to go over any of the files Lester so graciously dumped on my desk before I’d even gotten here, but I think I’d better go do that.” She turned to leave, but then paused and turned back. “Sarah?”
“Mm?” Sarah asked, staring at the device.
“When’s the last time you ate something?”
Sarah looked up at that and laughed ruefully. “Probably shortly before the last time I slept. And don’t ask about that.”
“I thought so.” Jenny tilted her head at the door in invitation. “C’mon Sarah. I’ll bring some of those files to the rec room and you can get something to eat at the same time.” She winked. “And be on hand to help answer my questions as I go through them.”
Sarah reluctantly nodded. “All right.” She slipped the anomaly device into her pocket. “Shall we?”
“Let’s. And then you’re going to have a nice long kip on the sofa, yeah?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He started in again at about twenty-two thousand feet in the air. “Dinosaurs,” Pooch muttered. He was strapped into his chair and gripping the armrests as he always did when he wasn’t the one in control of the vehicle.
“Enough, Pooch!” Aisha snapped. “Dinosaurs. Deal with it or don’t, but for gods sake, shut up about it!” She was fingering her knife as she spoke. The dozen or so times in the car on the way to the airport in El Loa had been bad enough. This was just pushing it apparently.
“Down girl,” Clay cautioned, catching her eye and shaking his head lightly. She huffed, but eventually stopped caressing the sharp ceramic blade - standard for them to carry when traveling on commercial airlines. Sending him a sharp glare, she turned to glare out the window instead.
“Are we sure - absolutely sure - that it wasn’t some kind of imaging software?” Pooch asked Jensen for the fifth time.
Cougar barked out a short laugh. “No one can slip a ‘shopped image past Jensen.”
“Aw, thanks Coug!” Jensen beamed at his partner; then sent a snotty look at Pooch. “I am highly offended that you think I’d be taken in by a bunch of pixels. I can tell the real stuff from the fudged, thanks so much.”
“Not that I don’t trust you Jensen.” Pooch shook his head. “Seriously man, I do. It’s just-“ he waved his hands. “--dinosaurs!”
A low growl came from Aisha.
“Shut up, all of you,” Clay commanded. “Jensen, gimme a sit-rep.”
“Still no luck,” Jensen replied, referring to another window on his laptop. Somehow - and Clay was certain he didn’t want to know how - that window was directly connected to one of the computers in the facility they were about to invade. Everything this Sarah Page did, they could see. “I’ve been studying the matrix she’s working on and I think I’ve just about figured out what I need to do. Of course, I won’t know until I try, but…” he shrugged. “If I don’t, I’ll get it sooner or later.”
Clay nodded. Of that he had no doubt. “We’ll do a recon after we hit the city and catch a bit of shut-eye.” Jensen looked like he wanted to protest the idea of a delay. “You know as well as I do, planning on empty leaves you prone to mistakes. That’s an order Jensen.”
Jensen pouted, but Cougar was there, leaning against him, and he subsided. “I know, Boss. I’m just worried.”
“We will do this,” Cougar promised quietly. “You find him and then we’ll retrieve him. Comprende?”
“Yeah.” He was pretty much silent after that until their plane touched down in London.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“So this is the ARC,” Pooch said, appraising the building with a skeptical air. “Where do they bring in the animals, two by two?”
Cougar snorted and Aisha rolled her eyes. They were huddled about a click away, taking turns peering through Cougar’s scope - all except Jensen who had a pair of binoculars that looked like a pair of telescopes lashed together - at the building through the thick growth that surrounded it.
Clay lit a cigarette and flipped his lighter shut. Exhaling, he gazed in the ARC’s general direction and made a vague motion with his hands. “Pooch?”
“One main paved road leading from the highway to the building, two off-road routes through the trees for cover. Lots of jeeps and military vehicles, a couple of water tankers and a refrigerator truck - and then there’s the heavy artillery.” Pooch pointed at a garage in the clearing near the building. “Heavy guards, and I can just make out the front of the vehicles through Cougar’s scope - they’ve got a couple of Land Rover Wolf’s in there. And that little pole thing sticking out the side?” Pooch whistled. “I’d lay even money that’s a Centurion tank hiding away back there.”
“Well, I suppose if you’re dealing with dinos, you need the heavy artillery,” Clay muttered. “Aisha?”
Aisha held up her phone. “They’ve got their own mini-army here, no need for them to waste time calling in troops from the center at Sandhurst. Roughly three squads or one platoon on duty at all time, four squads total. They rotate shifts every six to eight hours.”
“Staggered?”
Aisha shrugged. “Looks like they keep changing the times so no one can plan for a guaranteed shift change.”
Clay frowned. “They don’t mess around.”
Jensen stared at Aisha, half-admiringly and half-suspiciously. “Where do you get these informants?”
She shrugged her shoulders and offered him a cool smile. “I have many friends.”
“Apparently.” Jensen turned back to his laptop. “Well, she’s right - I just pulled the roster. Clay?”
Clay crouched down next to the hacker and scanned the names, looking for anyone that could cause them trouble. “I don’t recognize any of these names. Well, not personally.” He pointed at a photo of a man named Wilder. “Heard of him through the grapevine but never met him.”
“Head of security is a man named Becker. Hilary Becker,” Aisha continued.
Pooch cackled. “Hilary? Seriously?”
Jensen grinned and punched Pooch’s boot. “I wouldn’t talk, Linwood.”
The driver was still snickering. “Looks like our mama’s had a grudge against both of us, that’s for sure.”
“Can it, clown-boys.” Clay gestured with his cigarette for Aisha to go on.
“They’ve also got a guy named Danny Quinn. Formerly a Detective Constable with the London police. Hasn’t been seen in a while.”
“’Cause he’s missing, like my cousin,” Jensen filled in. “Disappeared in the same mission with Connor and the pixie.”
“Pixie?” Pooch shot him a confused look.
Cougar smirked. “Abby Maitland. Jensen likes her haircut.”
“Careful you don’t make Cougs jealous, Jay,” Pooch kidded.
“Can we pretend to be pros at this, gentlemen, and get on with it?” Clay asked somewhat rhetorically. “Anything else?”
“They have patrols - no schedules listed that I can find, looks like they memorize them - but a lot of focus is also on the security cams.” Jensen laced his fingers together and flexed his arms. “Which is no problem - I’ll lock in a looped feed so seamless it’ll make ya cry, and shut off the one I found on the opposite side of the compound. That should buy us an entry time of five minutes if we’re lucky.”
“And if we’re not?” Cougar sent him a sideways look.
Jensen shrugged. “Three minutes or so, I guess. Depends on how fast ol’ Becks can figure things out and how fast he can run.”
“Anyone have any concerns they wanna share with the group?” Clay stubbed his cigarette out on his boot and dropped it into a pocket he had lined into his pants for exactly that reason. “Then let’s talk details. Jensen?”
“Security shall be mine!” Jensen declared. “Gimme an hour and a couple’a Red Bulls. I can buy us an entry window, and set off a pre-timed alarm in the south end of the building. They’ll know someone’s in most likely, but they won’t be able to use their systems to find us.”
“As long as you can be stealthy,” Cougar commented.
Jensen’s face fell comically. “Awww.”
Clay ignored them through years of experience. “Pooch?”
“Through the woods towards the west side’s our best bet,” Pooch answered. “The patrols are thin - maybe thirty guys altogether I’ve seen spread out all over the place.”
“Can we jam the coms?”
“We can,” Jensen confirmed warily. “But it will be a definite signal that we’ve arrived.”
“Cougs?”
“Good visibility from here for the front,” Cougar said confidently. “Partial from the back. There’s a hill and a gap in the trees for a small window to the west if we follow Pooch’s idea.”
“I know I don’t need to say this, but tranqs only, guys. We’re not declaring war on England.” Clay nodded at the building. “Jensen?”
“Piece of cake,” the hacker said. “It’s not Plexiglas and there’s a few decent-looking grips on the side.” He turned his laptop around to show them a schematic of the building highlighted with dozens of red lights. “Only two cams on the roof and they’re easy to dodge if you know where they are - which I do.” He grinned and buffed his nails on his shirt.
“Looks like we’ll be taking your recommendation, Mr Pooch,” Clay said, turning to face Pooch. “No transport this time.”
“Well, considering it’s only a mile away and if all goes well, we’ll be working with them,” Pooch replied with a twist if his lip. “Remind me why we just aren’t walking in the front door?”
“Because security is so tight they’d never let us walk right in,” Jensen said with a frown. “Ever since that reporter - the one from the video? - started questioning, there’s been a standing order of ‘lock ‘em up’ for anyone who comes sniffing around until they can determine what your motives are. And, we’re not locals - which means they’ll be doubly suspicious of us.” Jensen closed his laptop with a decisive ‘click’. “That just means even more time spent with our thumbs up our asses while my cousin is still lost.”
“So we break in and convince them we’re on the up and up,” Aisha said, nodding. “And hey, if we don’t get shot in the process, that’s a bonus, right?” She rolled her eyes and turned away to grab her duffel bag.
“Something like that,” Clay agreed, and picked up his own bag. Moments later the roof was empty, without a single trace that they’d ever been there at all.
______________________________________________________
Because LJ sucks for length, go here for Part C!