Evenfall (71 page)

On the fifth day since Sin's incarceration, Boyd was startled away from looking at the panel when his cell rang. He looked down at the display and didn't recognize the number. Doubting that it was Connors but still feeling somewhat hopeful, he held it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Can you talk?" The voice was low and urgent, as if whomever was speaking was trying not to be heard by anyone in their vicinity.

"Freely." Boyd thought he recognized the voice; he just couldn't quite place from where.

"It's Officer Gerant."

"Ah, Gerant," Boyd said, mildly surprised to be getting a call from him. The surprise swiftly changed to worry. "What's wrong?"

"It's about--" There was a brief pause as though Luke was reconsidering at the last moment. "Listen, I shouldn't be telling you this. It's about... your partner."

Boyd's eyes narrowed. "What is it?" he asked, alarm making it into his voice.

There was a long pause and a rustling sound. When Luke spoke again his voice was still low but it sounded a lot closer to the phone, as if his mouth was pressed against it. "He-- hold on."

Boyd remained silent, although he gripped the phone. The longer there was silence, the more time his imagination had to paint vivid pictures of the horrible things that could have happened to cause Luke to call him. He started to worry that something terrible had happened-- maybe Sin was seriously injured or even dead... He cut that thought off immediately because if that were the case, he highly doubted he'd be hearing about it first from a guard he rarely spoke to.

He gave Luke ten full seconds of silence before he said, "Luke, I realize that you must be in a difficult position, so I appreciate that you called me... But you're starting to scare me. What's going on?"

"I'm sorry." His voice sounded genuinely apologetic. "I was trying to move to a secure spot so I can tell you in detail." There was another brief pause but this time when he spoke, it wasn't as muffled. "He's in bad shape right now and they aren't reporting his injuries, so he isn't receiving medical attention. I tried to put an order in for him but no one has showed up and I'm not sure what's going on."

Frustration was evident in the man's voice, either because of the lack of response by the proper officials or because he was putting himself at risk for a man who had killed his boss.

Alarm turned to anger within Boyd. This was exactly what he'd been worried about. He'd tried to go the official route. He'd tried to let the system work and he'd tried to believe that the guards wouldn't take advantage of the situation. He gave Connors plenty of time to change his mind. He was done with that. He couldn't sit idly by while Sin was forgotten in a place that tortured him.

His mind raced through the scenarios he had created over the days.
"If I need your help," Boyd said seriously, "in a manner that won't implicate you, can I have it? Something subtle that can help me get Sin out of there before they do irreparable damage?"

"Well--" There was another pause. "I didn't mean to alarm you. Honestly I think he's done most of the damage to himself."

That did not make Boyd any happier. "What do you mean?" he asked, an edge in his voice. "As I understand it, they drug him so heavily he can't even defend himself when he's attacked. Unless," his eyes narrowed, "did someone assault him and he attacked them in return, hurting himself?"

"As far as I can tell when he was first brought up they roughed him up a bit but nothing over the top." There was another pause. "I'm not sure what's going on, if it was a direct order or not, but for some reason he was not drugged until yesterday night because he was apparently trying to kill himself, which is typically
why
they keep him sedated in the first place."

"What?" Boyd burst out, loudly and incensed. "He's horribly claustrophobic-- what sort of asshole would--"Boyd stopped and forced himself to take a deep breath, the indignation buzzing through his limbs like blood. He gritted his teeth and slid his eyes closed, tilting his head to the floor and gripping the phone tightly. He couldn't even imagine what that must have been doing to Sin. He must have been terrified, he must have been--

"Luke." The determination in Boyd's voice made it come out very firm. "I'll be frank. I'm going to get him out of there soon, and I'll do it by fucking force if I have to. First, I will make a second appeal to the Marshal but I doubt he will help. I already tried once and he couldn't even deem to lower himself to open his fucking door." By the tight twist in his voice, it was clear what he thought of Connors.

"It was rude of me to ask you if you wanted to help so suddenly, and I apologize," he continued reasonably. "If it doesn't work with Connors, I'll get Sin out myself. I'd like you to think about it carefully, though I want to give you time. I'll contact you again if I need help, and I'll understand if you say no. I promise I won't implicate you at all in having told me this. That being said, you clearly already have more humanity and intelligence than it seems many of your peers do there. I'd like to think that I would have a friend up there when I get him out."

Luke was silent for a moment, presumably thinking about what was being said.

Boyd paused just long enough to let his words sink in before he continued. He knew his indignation and anger was only going to get worse when Luke answered the question he was about to ask but he needed to know. "Now, when I confront Connors, I'd like to know what I'm talking about. Could you explain to me better what you mean by 'apparently trying to kill himself' and what his status is now?"

"Well..." Luke trailed off for a moment. "He was cooperative at first despite the fact that they were being rather abusive as they escorted him up. But they deviated from standard procedure and did not hook up the IV, which they use for feeding and to keep him sedated--" He broke off, his voice mildly disgusted as he explained.

"This time they just tossed him in there with nothing. After the second day they'd apparently remembered that a human being needs water and food to survive, but by then he was hysterical and they were too frightened to open the box. They described loud banging, hysterical screaming in foreign languages and apparently by the third day they were severely alarmed because there was no sound at all for several hours. They knew that if he died it's their ass, so they gathered the courage to open the box. He'd knocked himself out slamming his head against the side of the toilet, apparently trying to either commit suicide or make himself unconscious."

Luke sounded frustrated and he paused once again. "Finally they hooked him up to the IV but they pumped him full of an alarming dosage of drugs and I'm afraid that combined with his head injuries, it will be enough that he never wakes up. I'm sure that's not the case but..." He trailed off.

"I didn't have a shift on fourth until today, I'm sorry I couldn't do something sooner," he said apologetically, but his voice firmed. "I will help you in any way I can unless it will jeopardize my own security."

Boyd's stomach twisted sickeningly at Luke's description, and he couldn't bring himself to answer for a few seconds. He was too furious, disgusted, and upset. He kept thinking about Sin's vulnerable expression that time he was in his kitchen, or the wild fear in his eyes when he woke from the nightmare. He knew what it was like to be terrified of something to the point that one would do anything to escape it. It was for that reason he'd been so afraid of failing the missions; so afraid of what his mother had threatened him with on fourth. The worst thing that could happen at a time like that was to have no respite-- no control.

Knowing all that, he felt such pain for what Sin must have been going through that it was difficult not to hate every person who had hurt him. But focusing on that wasn't going to help him. What he had to focus on was what he could do to help. There was absolutely no way he would let this last any longer.

"Thank you," he said tensely. He paused, had to draw a deep breath to steady himself, and managed to sound calmer when he spoke again. "I don't know yet what I'll need you to do, but I will make sure your role seems coincidental. Will you be able to call me again tomorrow at this same time, or is there a number I could contact you at?"

"Of course," Luke said and rattled off the number to his cell phone quickly and quietly. "Just let me know where I should be and what precisely I should do. Thankfully though, General Carhart has discreetly managed to ensure that none of Harry's friends are on the fourth right now. For the moment he has most of the guards suspected in the surveillance investigation on paid suspension."

"That's good, at least," Boyd said mostly to himself. Especially that it was paid suspension; he knew that if it was unpaid, they would just try to take it out on Boyd or Sin again and it would start all over again. He memorized Luke's number. "I'll be in contact." He paused, then said again sincerely, "Thank you. I realize I said it before, but I truly do appreciate that you help us."

"It's no problem, really," Luke insisted. "We're not all bad guys up there; it's just that the bad overpower the few good ones. There's a rookie up there now who thinks the whole situation is completely disturbing, but we'll see how long that lasts before the rumor mill gets to him. There's another guy, Travis, he's up there now and he isn't a complete asshole either. The three of us have shifts together today and tomorrow during the day. Whatever you're planning-- it might go better if it's while we are working."

There was another long pause. "Call me," Luke said in a rushed tone and the line abruptly disconnected.

Boyd flipped his phone closed and looked back at his panel with narrowed, contemplative eyes. Tomorrow was also the day he remembered that Connors would be going on his three day business meeting out of the building. Which meant if Boyd could not get to him today, then he was breaking Sin out tomorrow. And since Connors apparently didn't answer his phone during meetings, it was an even better time because it would take longer for him to realize what happened.

He gave himself just enough time to clean up properly and then headed to the Agency. Once at the compound, he didn't stop for anything until he reached Connors' reception area.

"Is Marshal Connors in?" he asked without preamble.

Samuel gave Boyd an unimpressed stare. "You again. His schedule hasn't changed since the last time you were here. In fact, you're lucky I did mark you for April 15th because now the earliest meeting is Ju--"

"I need to talk to him," Boyd cut Samuel off flatly. His eyes narrowed seriously. "And I won't leave until I'm given the chance."

"Then you'll be here for several months," Samuel said unconcernedly.

"I want you to call him," Boyd insisted.

Samuel's back straightened and his lips thinned. "If you think your existence even registers for Marshal--" Samuel started, affronted.

Disgusted, Boyd didn't let Samuel finish. He strode around the assistant's desk and right up to Connors' door, where he looked up at the camera. "Marshal Connors, I would like to request an audience." His tone was determined but he was careful not to be too disrespectful. Connors held all their lives in his hands and he could easily just have Sin terminated if he got angered.

Samuel stared at him with angry, narrowed eyes and hurried over to him. "Mr. Beaulieu, you are taking this too far. If you don't leave now I will call security."

"Feel free," Boyd said dismissively, having no time for him. He turned back to the camera. "Can you hear me, sir? Please, this is very important. I don't mean to be disrespectful of your time but Sin may be seriously injured. I would really like to talk to you-- only for five minutes, or whatever time you can spare."

"You're being ridiculous," Samuel stormed at him, eyes flashing. "If you think for one second that Marshal Connors is going to fall for yo--"

Before he could continue, there was a buzz and the light next to handle of the door turned green. Samuel went silent and stared at it in shock, his mouth slightly ajar.

Boyd ignored Samuel and walked into the room. He shut the door behind him and glanced around, his gaze finding the Marshal at his desk. He kept his expression and posture completely respectful, and paused by the door.

Connors stared at him calmly, his eyes slightly narrowed although there was no real expression on his face. "Sit down."

Following the direction, Boyd walked to the seat and sat down. He watched Connors calmly; he had never actually met the man before and what he was confronted with was somehow surprising. Connors' hair was black with liberal amounts of silver near his temples and his eyes were steel grey. Seeming older than Carhart by at least a decade, Connors also looked far less generous. The impression was largely in the tilt of his lips.
Even so, he looked distinguished and, to Boyd's mild surprise, was actually wearing a suit. For some reason Boyd had expected him to be fully encased in military paraphernalia with an ugly expression on his face the moment they met. Instead, they had a brief moment to simply observe each other.

"Your display has certainly captured my attention," Connors said flatly, not much emotion in his voice although there was a distinct edge to it. "I'm sure Vivienne would not be pleased with your behavior."

"She likely would not but she rarely is pleased with anything," Boyd said honestly. "So I admit I didn't take it into account. Some things are more important than what others will think."

Connors' expression did not change. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed Boyd clinically, taking in his injuries without commenting on them. "An interesting response. But it leads me to ask, how did you think I would interpret the message you sent for me?"

"I hoped you would take the time to consider the impression the situation gives, if you had not already," Boyd replied.

"Ah, so you mean to say you didn't intend it as a threat? What were your exact words?" Connors stared at him flatly, tapping his thick fingers on the desk. "It didn't bode well for me?"

"It doesn't," Boyd said, and shifted forward a bit in his seat. "This organization is run very hierarchically. There are certain privileges associated with the higher ranks, and the people who spend years working their way up to that level expect a certain amount of respect and protection. The fact that ongoing, targeted harassment can exist and everyone ignores it doesn't look good and could breed resentment. Right now, the fact that Sin is the victim and he is already maligned means that most people may not be paying attention to it. But if the perpetrators start to feel that they can get away with whatever they want because they'll never be held accountable, it seems destined to only end in unnecessary trouble for all levels of management."

Not looking very impressed, the Marshal leaned back in his chair and glanced down at his computer screen. "It's interesting that you think I am unaware of anything you just said. Do you think that your existence here will suddenly serve to enlighten me on how to run this organization? And that is aside from the fact that you did not answer my question."

"I'm not threatening you, Marshal. I'm humbly asking you on behalf of my partner to please consider releasing him from confinement. I have reason to have concern for his health."

Connors stared at him blankly for a moment before an almost irritated expression began to form on his otherwise stony face. "I'm fully aware of Vega's condition, mentally and physically. According to his tracker, his vitals have not dropped yet so for the moment he is still alive. Other than his possible discomfort and what you perceive to be the unfairness of the situation, why should I release him? More importantly, why do you feel this need to put yourself in danger for him? And believe me, Boyd, you can consider the failure of last week's mission as a considerable mark against you both."

Boyd considered that question, wanting Connors to know he was taking this seriously. "Because he's my partner, sir. And because no one else does. Everyone deserves someone who will speak up for them when they're unable to do so themselves. And because the reason he's in confinement right now is due to helping me when I was being attacked. He didn't do something unprovoked; he was reacting to a well-known threat."

Connors stared at him, bushy eyebrows rising slightly. "I admire your tenacity, Boyd. However, I regret to inform you that I have no intentions of releasing him early and I would appreciate it if you would not waste my time with such matters simply because you feel the burning desire to root for the underdog. Although with his ability to snap a neck with considerable lack of effort, I would hesitate to even describe him as such."

Although the comment could have referred to anything, the way Connors said it led Boyd to believe that it was a reference to the video. Boyd took to that immediately, hoping to be able to use the situation from the video to prove his point. Although it was a little embarrassing to know Connors had viewed the footage, it was a necessary evil in order to protect Sin.

"Sir," Boyd said earnestly, "not to belabor the point, but if you've viewed the footage than surely you see that Sin was only protecting me? Officer Truman had a documented history of sexual assault, and he had accosted Sin in the past. He was a predator who targeted victims who he felt were vulnerable, which most often was Sin. Does that context not factor into his treatment?"

"I do not see why it should be deemed acceptable that he killed a man who could have just as easily been incapacitated or knocked unconscious. You may try to put Vega in the role of innocent victim, but he's anything but. He's a menace, and he only remains at this organization because at the moment, he is not replaceable."

Connors pulled a pack of cigarettes from his desk and extracted one, although he didn't move to light it. Boyd's gaze flicked down to follow the movement, and in the process he noticed Connors' seal for official documents had been pushed closer to his side of the desk by his panel computer.

Boyd took that information into account. With the way this meeting was going, he was likely going to have to do one of the contingency plans, and the seal may be just what he was missing in one of them. Despite the quick thoughts running through his mind, his gaze did not linger even the slightest and when he looked back up at Connors, none of it had made it to his expression.

Connors' gaze remained on Boyd and his eyes had narrowed with impatience. "The extreme nature of his responses are inappropriate, and he will be punished until he understands that."

"But how will you know when he understands?" Boyd pressed. He sat forward in his seat, watching Connors intently with his eyebrows drawn up. "Sir, please. I understand what his reputation is and I know the types of acts he has committed in the past. I am not ignoring those aspects, but I think there is more to him than many people have the opportunity to see. I think he does already understand when his actions are inappropriate. And while I understand that he has to be held accountable for killing another member of the Agency, how long will be deemed long enough? The place he has been put does not give him the chance for self-evaluation. He's put in a place that tortures him. If the point is for him to understand, couldn't he at least be moved to a holding cell or isolation of another sort?"

"No," was the flat response. "This is not a correctional facility. He will learn through punishment, or he will be disposed of in the future. It is as simple as that. Further commentary on the methods in which the Agency instills obedience is unnecessary and unwanted. As I said, these methods have been in place long before you were here, long before your mother birthed you-- and it is very successful. Is there anything else?"

Boyd leaned back in his chair and shook his head, letting a hint of defeat make it to his expression so Connors would think he was ready to give this up. "No, sir."

"Good." Connors finally let his cigarette, taking a drag as he watched Boyd through the smoke that drifted between them. "I do have one question, however."

Boyd paused with his hands on the arms of the chair. He'd been about to stand up and he looked over at Connors curiously, having expected to be dismissed. "Yes, sir?"

There was another pause as Connors watched him thoughtfully. Then he said calmly, "There has been speculation of an involvement between you and Vega that extends beyond the realm of partnership, and even friendship. What's your opinion on this rumor?"

Boyd's expression was perfectly blank aside from a slight frown, as if that hadn't occurred to him before and he was considering it. Inwardly, he was slightly worried that the topic had come up; especially after he'd probably done himself no favors by arguing so passionately on Sin's behalf. He didn't know what would happen if Connors had it confirmed that he and Sin were sexually attracted to each other and had almost acted on it, but he doubted it would be good.

"Well, sir, I think there are a lot of things people say that is exaggerated. And the fact that both of us are high profile makes us easy targets for a disgruntled person's wandering mind."

"I see."

Connors ashed his cigarette and looked at his computer again. "That's all."

Relief moved through Boyd at that; knowing that Connors wasn't going to press the issue. Although, he could only hope he'd given the correct answer.

Nodding, Boyd dropped his eyes to the floor, his gaze passing so casually past Connors' desk that it was unnoticeable when it lingered for half a second. He leaned forward and used the desk as a brace to push himself up, though he acted as though he was trying to hide the pain his body was in. Connors did not seem to notice or care, and Boyd palmed the seal discreetly. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trench coat as usual when he was upright.

He tilted his head forward politely. "Thank you for your time, Marshal Connors. I appreciate you accommodating your busy schedule for a few minutes with me."

Connors nodded, watching him for a moment with a look that was difficult to interpret and turned back to his work.

When Boyd left the office he noticed Samuel's indignant glare, but neither of them spoke. Calmly striding through the complex, Boyd waited until he was several floors down and out of the elevators before he flipped his phone open and dialed Ryan's number. He watched his surroundings seemingly idly as he waited for him to answer.

"Is everything okay?" Ryan asked as soon as he picked up.

"Yes," Boyd said, eyes tracking a few of the people passing by. "But I need your help."