tli_productions | Fic: Things Present (3/3)

Header information and notes contained in Part 1.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

3

Lester is waved through the entrance security at Peel Building with deliberately little fanfare. One of the perks of being him is that he is rarely accorded full scrutiny, at least within Home Office buildings.

Both his mobile phones are switched off and in a hidden compartment in his car; that combined with the fact he's never willingly operated a black box comm unit means he can be nearly certain nobody actually knows he's here.

“Mr Lester?”

Well, not quite nobody. The voice belongs to a woman walking down the corridor towards Lester. She's in her early fifties, suited, serious expression, entirely professional.

He likes her already.

He holds out a hand as she comes closer. “Yes.”

She shakes his hand and smiles blandly. “I'm Professor Erskine.”

Lester nods.

Erskine motions back down the corridor; Lester falls into step beside her. “This is highly unorthodox, Mr Lester. There are protocols -”

“Yes, I know.” Lester adjusts his tie ever so slightly. “However I was assured the circumstances warranted a... deviation from standard procedure.”

Erskine sniffs. “Quite. I suppose I oughtn't shoot the messenger.”

Lester just smiles at her.

“Through here.” Erskine opens a door and motioned for Lester to enter first. She closes the door securely behind her.

Lester checks out the room. It's a small examination room, similar to the other Home Office set ups he'd had to occasionally requisition before the first Anomaly Research Centre. A few nondescript cabinets and shelves dot along one wall. The flat bed table is the only free-standing piece of equipment in the room, but he's not there to conduct an inspection.

On the table are a small collection of yellowed bones, some whole but mostly fragments of varying sizes.

Lester steps up to the table. “So what is this?”

Out of the corner of his eye Erskine looks unimpressed. “Its all preliminary; nothing can be confirmed without tests, and for tests I'd need -”

“To be on record, yes.” Lester offers her a small smile, as sincere as he can manage. “But without tests?”

Erskine sighs, but steps up to the table. She takes out a pen and begins indicating bone fragments as she explains: “These remains, as you know, were discovered at the Central Metropolitan University during routine building works – in the zoology department, I believe.”

Within metres of the late Professor Cutter's office to be precise, but Lester keeps that information to himself.

Erskine continues. “The bones most likely belonged to an adult human female – modern homo sapiens – but again, without testing it's only an educated guess. My best estimate is that the bones have been in situ for years, if not decades.”

Lester nods. “And how long do you think Jane Doe has been dead?"

Erskine draws a long, shallow breath. “That is where we begin to stretch belief, Mr Lester. The condition of these remains is consistent with excavated remains of people who died thousands of years ago.”

“But the catch?” Lester asks. He might have requested an expedited full report had there been nothing out of the ordinary besides the remains' proximity to Cutter's old office.

But there is, otherwise his contact in the Pathology Unit wouldn't have interrupted a ministerial meeting to slip him a handwritten note.

Erskine hesitates.

“Humour me,” Lester prompts, gently this time. “Pretend this is a science fiction show; whatever you tell me is well within the realms of possibility. I'll even nod sagely and concur with your findings.”

It's preposterous of course, but it finally elicits a positive response from Erskine. She smirks, runs a hand over her tightly-coiffed hair, and nods. “Very well, then. This is why there is no possible way these remains could belong to a woman who died in the Mesolithic.”

She uses her pen to push one of the larger bone fragments towards Lester. He leans in close to -

“Oh my...” The words come out before he can stop himself.

The tubular sliver of bone has a silverish edge to it; seeing that she has his attention, Erskine taps the grey spot with her pen.

“I took some scrapings to examine under a microscope,” she says quietly. When Lester looks up she's staring intently at him – and there's a flicker of fear in her expression. “It's a titanium alloy, in a place where titanium alloy has no historical place being.”

Realisation dawns, and along with it a sudden wave of nausea. “It's a pin,” Lester says.

“Surgically implanted,” Erskine nods. “Now tell me, Mr Lester: how on earth does a surgically implanted metal alloy correlate with a ten thousand year old woman?”

It doesn't. Lester realises he might know who the remains belong to, but just as quickly files the thought process away. “I don't know,” he admits. “But I can supply you with the cover and means to find out.”

“And when I do?”

Lester strongly suspects he doesn't want to find out.

“When you do,” he says calmly, “you tell me. And nobody else.”

o o o o o

Matt shifts to a ready stance and raises his hands either side of his head. “I was wondering when we'd find you.”

“Two things wrong with that,” Ethan says quietly but surely.

“Not going to tell me?”

“With your line of communication still open? No.” Matt hears Ethan step forward and then feels the very real pressure of the barrel of a handgun on the back of his head.

“This is what you're going to do.”

o o o o o

Jess has just signed off from Sergeant Obaid and Doctor Hart when the other line comes on again. “Go,” she says absently, contemplating whether or not to find a technician to fill a Thermos with hot chocolate for her.

“Jessica, it's Matthew.”

Well, that sounds odd. “Um... yes?” Jess hesitates. “What do you need?”

“Sever the comms for the team at the stately home. Ethan Dobrowski's knocked out one of the captain's team, taken off with a black box.”

“That's not...”

“Do it, Jessica,” Matt orders. “We're experts; we'll find a way to communicate with each other.”

“Fine. Killing the lines.” Jess does it – why shouldn't she? She'd fed Matt the information about the intruder, it had clearly helped them ID Dobrowski...

...but something is way off. Nothing about what Matt had just said was right. He couldn't remember him ever calling her Jessica, or even referring to Becker by his former -

Oh. Oh shit.

Jess fumbles under her workstation for her Blackberry. Hands shaking she searches through her contacts and fires out a text message to Becker.

Comms down. Matt maybe in trouble. DO SOMETHING

o o o o o

Stephen checks his watch then glances back to the anomaly.

“What is it?” Emily asks.

“The anomaly should have closed by now.” Stephen taps his watch face. “It's recurring, in both time lines. The timing of the appearances doesn't follow a pattern but the anomaly's never stayed open longer than one hour and thirty seven minutes. The alert went out one hour and fifty minutes ago.”

As if to reinforce the point the anomaly shimmers under the force field.

Emily considers this. “Perhaps the information was incomplete,” she says.

It's possible. But not the only option. “Claudia,” Stephen begins, still trying to fathom the details, “did you use anything to open this anomaly?”

“Helen's remote?” Claudia frowns. “No. It burned out,” she adds.

There's something in her voice that makes Stephen stop. A weariness. He's heard it before. In Nick, after Helen's bombshell and later in Leek's bunker. In Jenny when she'd wanted to leave the ARC. In Hilary just a few nights ago.

Back when he could pretend he was asocial by choice rather than by design, Stephen might have been able to convince himself he could talk to Claudia, do... something.

Now he knows he can't.

“You travelled alone on the other side of the anomalies?” Emily asks, surprising Stephen, and even Claudia jerks a little. She takes a half step towards Claudia but doesn't make a move to touch her.

Claudia nods.

Emily gives her a small smile. “It is no small feat. I was fortunate – I found others, and we travelled as a group.”

Claudia smirks. “Liabilities.”

“Worth the risk.”

“I haven't -” The anomaly makes a whooshing sound; as everyone turns to look at it, it dims then collapses under itself, leaving just the bright lights of Connor's locking device behind.

Stephen's hand flies up to his earpiece. “Jess. Jess?”

There's no response.

Obaid taps his earpiece, then shakes his head.

Stephen's mobile vibrates in his pocket, and he jumps. In the seconds it takes to calm down again he's pulled the phone out and is looking at the screen.

“It's -” Jess Parker – when did her number get on his phone? A text message.

SOS @ other anomaly site

“What -” Emily begins.

Stephen shakes his head, already moving to help Obaid and his team. “We need to get to the other anomaly site. Now.”

o o o o o

Becker closes down the comm line to Jess. He's about to suggest that the civilians retire to somewhere secure while he and Emerson regain some semblance of control over the search for incursions when Danny pipes up. He points to the man who'd followed him into Duchemin's office.

“Sarge, this is Becker, one of the guys I used to work with. Becker, Sergeant Sean Kirkham, London Met.”

Becker nods.

“What's this about a person of interest?” Kirkham asks. He glances at Danny. “We've had nothing of that come through our lines.”

Becker shakes his head. The space where the appropriate responses should be is blank. As if sensing his uncertainty Danny jumps in again.

“Private matter, guv. That or it's above our pay grade.” He gurns a little; combined with the explanation it mollifies Kirkham.

It's a classic 'us v. them' ploy, one that Becker's seen used plenty of times before. He's surprised at the twist in his gut at being classified as 'them' this time.

It shouldn't matter. He hasn't seen Danny in months and neither he nor Jenny had invited him to their wedding – not that he'd even known they were in a relationship at all. Maybe that was something else that had grown after the anomaly project.

Like Stephen's feelings.

Becker squelches the thought, but judging by the way Danny and now Jenny are looking at him, it might have been too late.

“We should -” But before he can get any further the office door swings open again to reveal Connor and Abby. They both see Danny and Jenny at the same time, and their reactions are of identical joy.

“Oh my god!” Connor exclaims. He bounds across the room and all but jumps on Jenny, hugging her tightly before doing the same to Danny. Abby is a bit more subdued; she smiles at Jenny and the two hug.

“All right, you two,” Danny says thickly. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Yeah,” Abby says eventually.

“Where've you two been?” Connor demands. “All Becker would tell us is you quit, and – oh my god, Jenny! Do you know who Danny's marrying?”

“Um...” Jenny pulls a face.

“Con.” Abby nudges Connor to look down at Danny and Jenny's joined hands.

The way Connor's mouth hangs open should have been funny, but Becker just watches as Connor chokes back some noise, then hugs both Danny and Jenny tightly again. “That's fantastic," he babbles. "Seriously amazing.”

He looks back at Abby. “Stephen is gonna love this.”

“Stephen?” Jenny asks, frowning.

“I...” Connor looks around for Becker, then back at the circle he was in. “Should I...?”

“Becker didn't say anything about Stephen,” Jenny says slowly.

All eyes turn on him, even the civilians who seem suspiciously like they're starting to enjoy the impromptu show.

Platitudes and excuses swirl around Becker's mind.

“You,” Stephen said, because he didn't have the words for anything else.

Me? Becker thought, because he didn't have any words at all.

Jenny's expression softens. “How long?” she asks.

Becker shakes his head. “Six days.” If that.

His mobile phone buzzes in his pocket, and he's never been more grateful for the distraction. It's a text message from Jess. Odd.

Then he reads it.

“Shit,” he says out loud. Reflexively he taps his comm but there's nothing, not even static. He looks at the phone screen again.

“What is it?” Danny asks.

“Trouble.” Becker looks at Connor and Abby, then Emerson. “When was the last time either of you heard from Matt?”

They respond with head shakes and blank expressions.

“You were last with him, sir.”

Becker sucks in a sharp breath. He texts Jess back. What is going on?

The reply is quick. Matt made me kill comms. Think Ethan has him. Don't know

He sends back a quick Ok will call you asap then looks around at the curious and worried expressions on everyone's faces. “I think Matt's found our intruder. Black boxes are useless. Emerson," he says, before anyone else can jump in. "Head back out, round everyone from the team up. Rendezvous back at the – zero point. Keep in touch with mobiles – use smoke signals for all I care. But stay in touch.”

“Sir.” Emerson leaves the office.

“Danny, Jenny. Could use an assist.”

“Of course.” Jenny glances at Danny and they both nod.

“Round up all of your guests who are already here, get them into one room then secure it. Tell them whatever you have to.”

“Done.” Danny squeezes Jenny's hand, then ushers Duchemin and Kirkham out of the office.

“Who is it?” Abby asks as soon as the door closes behind them.

“Ethan Dobrowski.”

“What's he doing here?” Connor frowns.

“I don't know,” Becker says, “but that's what we're going to find out.”