Evenfall (141 page)

Carhart nodded but didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt.

"Anyway, after that I only remember flashes of the interrogation. They tortured me for information but I would not give any up. They used various methods; burned me with a butane torch, broke my limbs and destroyed tendons in the process and so on. Clemons seemed especially vindictive, not at all interested in information but in vengeance because I'd killed his niece. I can't blame him for that, I suppose but eventually they grew tired of my refusal to speak and after some time all I remember is Clemons telling me I would have a slow, painful death but I'm not sure that even happened."

Sin frowned slightly. "Everything from that time seems distorted and I'm not sure what was reality but that is the last thing I remember before today. The door closing on his face and that I was still strapped down." After a moment, he shrugged.

"That's all I can tell you." He'd recounted the entire thing in a matter-of-fact tone as though the actual memories involving the torture did not bother him in the least; it wasn't really surprising though. Physical abuse had never been something that moved him.

It took a moment for Carhart to reply and even when he did, he didn't really seem to know how to properly respond to the things that Sin had said.

"We first caught wind of the fact that there was a problem when initial reports following the bombings included the description of a suspect; a description that matched Boyd's cover."

Sin's eyebrows rose in surprise but he didn't interrupt as Carhart continued.

"A woman living in the hi-rise opposite the center happened to look out and see Boyd leaving the wing which obtained the most damage. She reported it as seeing a survivor but the authorities jumped on the information and immediately said this person was a suspect. Mexican authorities began to obtain any Caucasian males in the city for questioning and kept any foreigners without visas for intense interrogation. This of course resulted in many innocent tourists and visitors being unfairly held and their countries of origin began to do their own investigations as to who the terrorists were. America, as always in these times, was the prime suspect for many although there has been no proof to support that theory."

Sin frowned. "I'm sure Vivienne and Connors loved that shit." "Heh." Carhart crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "Yeah, loved it so much that Connors immediately began pointing fingers at anyone in the vicinity but that was even before we found out that no one on the hit list was actually hit. However it wasn't until hours later when your tracker reported that you were dead that we realized something had gone very wrong."

Sin raised an eyebrow. "Dead?"

"You probably momentarily flat-lined during the procedure to remove your tracker as it was destroyed soon after. Despite the fact that I insisted we contact Boyd immediately and figure out what the hell was going on, Connors said no and that if there was still a chance that the mission had been successful and that Boyd was maintaining his cover and following your plan, there was no reason to interfere since we aren't in the habit of bailing Agents out of trouble in any other scenario so early in an assignment. I was pissed and my response is probably what prompted him to exclude me from making any further decisions on the matter."

"I see." Sin continued to frown slightly, wondering how Boyd had managed to remain out of the hands of the authorities during that time.

"However over a week passed and no contact was made and Boyd continued to wander around the city according to his tracker, so Connors began to suspect that either he was unable to contact us with details on Janus because his cover was in jeopardy or that he had for one reason or another, decided not to return to the Agency. Whatever the case was, finally Connors decided to send in a team led by Kassian Trovosky to obtain Boyd and search the location of your last known position in order to figure out whether or not it was a Janus base. I'm not sure what happened between the time they arrived and the time they returned and I was generally left out of discussion after that."

"That still doesn't explain where he is now," Sin said impatiently. "What happened and why in the hell do you keep being so damn vague when I ask? Just tell me already and be done with it."

"Because I don't know the details Hsin but... I do know part of it. So try not to lose control of your temper when I say what I'm about to say. I know it is difficult to hear but at the same time, I cannot truly say that it surprised me and it should not surprise you either. You know how things work here." Carhart gazed at him steadily, giving nothing away in his expression.

Green and hazel eyes locked and Sin didn't respond for a moment. But then his gaze slid away and he studied the wall, a blankness taking over his expression even as the slow burn of anger and frustration spread through him. "They needed a scapegoat."

Carhart inclined his head. "And Boyd was that scapegoat. Connors blamed everything on him; from the fact that he was the one to obtain the disc to his decision to split up and your capture. And he was punished for it."

Sin nodded shortly, giving nothing away or at least trying not to, even as he grit his teeth. "How long?"

Carhart shook his head. "I'm not sure. I wasn't allowed to debrief him or speak with him before or after. I believe anywhere from two to three weeks though."

He knew how Connors worked; he knew how Shane worked. They weren't big on physical torture of their own Agents; they liked their punishment to have a more lasting mental effect, something that would paralyze them with fear at the mere idea of being subjected to it. As he stared at the wall, eyes slightly narrowed, his mind automatically went back to that evening, Boyd's birthday, and the video of Louis.

"I see." Sin released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in a slow exhale. "Is that it?"

"No." Carhart paused briefly before continuing. "Once again, the details are not known to me, but the last I heard he is no longer with the Agency. Whether it was by his own choice or by Connors' is unclear."

Sin's gaze snapped over to Carhart and his brows drew together. "What?"

The other man spread his arms helplessly. "That's all I was told."

"You haven't even tried to contact him?" Sin demanded, the confusion and irritation in his expression growing. "I don't fucking understand this-- how can he no longer be with the Agency? They don't just fire people or let them walk away."

"I know, but that is what I was told. That either by his choice or by Connors', he is no longer with us and that he is now at his home or whatever location he returned to, under extensive twenty-four hour surveillance, which will remain to be the case for as long as it's necessary I suppose." Carhart shrugged. "And I did not contact him because I supposed if he wanted to be contacted, he would make it known, which he has not. Ryan wanted to make an attempt as far as I know but Boyd no longer has his Agency phone and Ryan is too ill to travel on his own."

"Well I'm not." Sin pushed his chair back and stood up so suddenly that his head swam and he momentarily faltered.

Carhart looked at him doubtfully. "Uh huh."

Sin glared at him and grit his teeth in frustration. "I'm fine."

He'd been away too long; it disgusted him how he was so unable to hide his weakness from the other man. He forced himself to stand up straight, to stride towards the bedroom as if nothing was wrong with him, as though his head wasn't spinning just from standing upright, and began opening drawers in the General's dresser. He pulled out a pair of jeans and changed into them, leaving the flimsy white pants on the floor. They were too big for him and slid down his hips but he ignored that and grabbed a pair of tennis shoes. They were only a little tight so he tied the laces and stood up before heading over to the desk.

As he started to grab the gun, his eyes once again lifted to the framed photographs that sat on the desk. There were was one that appeared to be some kind of family portrait which included two older men in military garb, a woman, several children and a young, teenaged version of Carhart standing at the side with a wide smile on his face. They were in a backyard of some kind, or a park, and in the background he could make out a banner that proclaimed 'Happy Veteran's Day!'.

The next photograph was of a pretty young blond haired woman holding an infant baby, gazing at the camera with a tired looking smile on her face. It wasn't hard to figure out that she was Carhart's deceased wife and the baby had been his child, both killed during the bombings that had rocked the country. Sin shook his head and started to move away as he grabbed the gun and re-inserted the clip but before he stepped entirely away, a small photograph stuck in the corner of the mirror caught his attention.

It was slightly crumpled although a vain attempt had been made at smoothing it out again, but that wasn't what struck him about it. It was the green eyes, the short black hair, the big cocky grin and the features that looked so much like his own. It was a picture of Emilio looking a little younger than Sin was now, one muscular arm thrown around a younger Carhart's shoulders even though his partner didn't look nearly as enthusiastic as he did. One of Carhart's eyebrows was raised slightly and despite his almost exasperated expression, the corner of his mouth was lifted in a small smile. They didn't look more than early twenties, probably from the time when they were partnered together almost exclusively, and judging from their bullet proof vests and weapons, it seemed they'd just returned from an assignment or were going on one.

It was hard to say whether the picture had been taken before Emilio had rescued him from China or afterwards but he could only assume that it was around that time. Not for the first time did it strike him how young his father must have been when he'd been conceived but that line of thought just led to thoughts about his mother and he didn't need that at the moment. Sin stared at it for longer than was necessary feeling more than a little disturbed by the image but before he allowed it to fully get to him, before the memories could bubble up entirely to the surface, he was going back out into the living room as he shoved his weapon into the back of his pants.

"Please, help yourself," Carhart said dryly as he eyed Sin, not seeming at all surprised at what he was seeing. It only proved his point that Sin would have left immediately had he told him from the beginning. "Do I get those back?" he asked, pointing at the shoes.

"Ask the med-crew when they eventually drag me off and take all of my clothes," Sin replied as he headed for the door. He had no doubts that that would be the case as soon as they figured out where he was and where he was going.

That was replied to with a grunt of agreement and Carhart followed him. "How are you going to get off the compound?"

Sin looked over his shoulder at the General and raised his eyebrows. "I have my ways." He started to run off but for some reason he stopped, paused and turned once again to look at Carhart who was leaning against the door and watching him quietly. "Thanks."

The General stared at him in surprise, not really appearing to know how to reply to that sudden statement. His lips parted as though he wanted to say something but he hesitated for a brief moment, looking directly into Sin's intense green eyes.   "It's... good to have you back."

The corner
s of Sin's mouth turned up in a humorless smirk and he shrugged one shoulder. "I guess we'll see about that, won't we?"

Carhart shook his head, narrowing his eyes slightly. "No matter what happens in the future, I'm glad you're okay. More than you realize, Hsin. So take care of yourself. Good luck."

Sin looked at him for a long moment before finally turning to go.

C
hapter 41

During Sin's teenage years, he'd thought about escaping the Agency. In the process of researching how to follow through on that, he'd discovered there were hidden tunnels beneath the compound. Newer blueprints of the compound omitted their existence and not very many people seemed to know of their existence. In a case like this, it worked to Sin's advantage.

There were hatches in the basements of several buildings that led to the tunnels. During the various times he'd sneaked off the compound, he'd used the one in the basement of an unused lab building to gain access to it. It was actually one of the only things about the Agency's security that he'd consider to be a breach; wiring leading to the tunnels had been destroyed during the bombings and proper surveillance had never been fully installed again afterwards. He didn't know if it was laziness or the assumption that no one remembered their existence that prevented the heads of the Agency from fully securing them, but at the moment he didn't care since it suited his interests well enough for it to remain that way.

He moved through the pitch blackness of the tunnel quickly, quietly, listening for anything out of place even as his eyes scanned the darkness. He imagined there had once been a lighting system set up but also due to the wiring, it no longer worked. Despite that, he could see surprisingly well in the gloom, even if that only meant making out the faint forms of rodents in the dark. It was strange but it seemed like the darkness helped him to focus, helped him to regain his bearings, and he wondered if they'd had to do surgery on his eyes for some reason, if that had possibly been the problem when he'd first woken up. Whatever the case was, he was slowly regaining his strength and he knew that the meal Carhart had provided him with was a large part of this renewed sense of energy.

As he moved, the information that Carhart had given him began to ring in his ears.

Six months.

He couldn't believe he'd been out for six months. More than that, he couldn't imagine what Boyd had been doing during that time.

How had he reacted to the mental torture of the Fourth and the calm cruelty of Shane? If they really had used the video of Lou's death, had it shattered him and turned him back into the emotionless void he'd been before or had he broken down completely? What had he done during those months after his release? Had it been his choice to leave? Had he convinced his mother to let him go? But... why would he do that? Why would he want to leave the place he claimed that tied him to the only people he felt close to, felt loyalty towards?

Logically Sin knew that a simple answer to that was that of course he would want to leave after being subjected to the Fourth, of course he would never want to return. But as angry as it made him that they'd possibly put Boyd through that hell... it was hard for Sin to think in those black and white terms.

To him, the Fourth was a natural part of the Agency, to him, it was something that had to be accepted because it was always an option, always a possibility if a person fucked up badly enough. Boyd knew that. He had to. So why... Why would he leave the place that tied him to Sin? That allowed them to connect; to communicate. To just... be together?

Maybe he was angry, maybe he blamed Sin for being punished, maybe...

He shook his head sharply. He had too many questions and concerns. His brain was whirring quickly, going at an impossible speed and he couldn't quite keep up with his own thoughts.

He just needed to talk to Boyd.

As doubt seeped into his brain, he stopped caring about caution or stealth, and his feet began to splash noisily in the shallow water that coated the ground as he ran through the tunnel at an alarming speed. It seemed to go on forever and for a disturbing moment the confusion and disorientation returned. It seemed that the darkness had swallowed him up, that the tunnel had become a never ending maze and that he would never find his way out.

He would never find Boyd, never knew what had become of him, never find out if he still...

But then he saw the faint reflection of moonlight bouncing off water in the distance and he knew he was almost to the end.

The tunnel grew increasingly narrow and as the brightness of the moonlight intensified, the tunnel finally hit a solid wall. The only indication that there was a way out on this end was a ladder leading up towards what appeared to be a manhole cover, a black round disc faintly visible against the ceiling with pale moonlight streaming through the holes. He climbed the tall ladder quickly, not for the first time wondering just how far underground these tunnels were dug. When he finally reached the top he felt around the cover and twisted it before he pushing it up. He pulled himself through the rather tight space and out of the tunnel as he looked around the familiar scenery.

The exit led to an enclosed area under an overpass in Silver Lake Park; a park which had once been one of the most beautiful spots in the city but now was rumored to be a barren wasteland where greenery refused to grow. Although the place was blocked off by fences and signs that warned of radiation, the beginnings of blossoms on the trees told Sin another story. He wondered if that had never been anything more than a ruse manufactured by the government to keep this area closed off from the general public. He didn't doubt that the entire area had been contaminated at one point. But it was too convenient that this particular park was off limits considering it housed the secret escape route for the Agency.

He moved through the park swiftly, feet becoming thoroughly soaked by the winding stream, and found his way to the unofficia
l exit. It was nothing more than a space in the barred fence that was a few inches too wide, but he squeezed through it and found himself in the city. He got a sense of dιjΰ vu as he once again took this route to Boyd's house unannounced and uninvited; anx
iety clawing at him the entire time he made his way there. And even though he was running with an almost inhuman speed, even though buildings and people went by him in a blur, somehow it still didn't seem fast enough.

When he finally reached Boyd's block, it almost struck him as much as it had the first time around. In a city that had fallen apart and drifted into a collection of ghettos following the war, a neighborhood like this was a rarity. Large houses with manicured lawns stood proudly, cars parked in driveways proved that families still lived there, people still thrived there. Now in the spring, the trees that lined the streets were full of leaves and it seemed like one of those picturesque places that he'd briefly seen in pictures.

He made his way to the pale tan-colored house third in from the right. As he walked into the front yard, it was painfully obvious to him that there were agents watching him. He paused briefly and looked in the general direction the stares seemed to be coming from with a challenging raise of his eyebrows. Hopefully they knew better than to fuck with him unless they waited for backup.

He turned back to the house, taking in the fact that Boyd's car sat in the driveway looking dirty and untouched, as if it hadn't been driven in months. The house itself looked still, uninhabited, but despite that most of the curtains were open. The lights were all off and he couldn't hear or detect any movement inside. Weeds and overgrown grass dominated the front yard, standing out dramatically against the rest of the neighborhood, while the backyard was impossible to see beyond the tall wooden privacy fence.

Although Sin had only been there once before, it hadn't looked like this. At the time, the house had been as perfectly composed as the rest on the block. Now it felt neglected in a manner that seemed unlikely for someone to actually be living there. Sin frowned and moved silently through the grass, making his way to the front door as he knelt down and picked the lock. It was as easy as it had been the first time around and when he slipped into the dark interior of the home, he reminded himself to give Boyd a stern talking to about the total lack of security in his house.

It was completely dark inside. The only light that made it in was the faint glow of the streetlights through the open windows. Maybe it was because he'd been there before, but Sin could see better in the gloom than he would have expected. He glanced only briefly around, not really bothering to study the house but looking anyway just to be certain Boyd wasn't there.

The living room had several large, open windows, affording him enough light to know at a glance that the room was empty. He noticed that a few of the cushions on the couch were moved out of place, the low-lying table nearby was at an angle as if it had been hit and a few of the pictures on the shelves near the television were knocked over. As he passed the kitchen he saw that it also looked relatively unused although a few dishes were in the sink, seeming as though they'd been there for a long time. The kettle was sitting at an odd angle at the back of the stove and only one of the chairs at the table was pulled out.

He didn't see or feel any sign of life in the house. The only indication that Boyd may be there was the car sitting in the driveway. Even so, Sin's heart began to beat faster as he walked silently over the carpet and made his way to the room he'd assumed had been Boyd's the first time he'd come to the house.

The door stood open and although there were no sounds coming from inside, as Sin moved closer he knew that Boyd was there. His eyes focused on Boyd's familiar figure even before he stepped in the doorway.

For some reason, he was momentarily struck speechless by the sight. He'd known that it'd been six months but still, he remembered Boyd as he had been the three days before the convention; red-haired and handsome, healthy and tanned. But now... he didn't know if Boyd was awake or not but as he lay motionless on the bed, Sin couldn't help noticing the changes. He was paler and thinner. Dark circles lined his eyes and his hair was pale blond but mixed with a dark brown.

He tried to speak, tried to think of something to say, but for some reason all he could do was stare.

There was a long, drawn out moment before Boyd seemed to notice he was there. His eyes slid open slowly, just enough for light to glint off them. When his head turned and their eyes met, he only watched Sin dully with an unchanging expression. He didn't even bother to move. Sin's eyebrows drew together and he moved closer, mouth curving down into a frown when Boyd didn't say a word.

At first Boyd just stared at him blankly, as if waiting for him to say or do something, but when they only ended up watching each other, he let out a weary sigh and covered his eyes with one arm. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice quiet and a little hoarse. Resigned.

Sin froze for a moment, expression changing to one of disbelief. He didn't stop until he was right next to the bed. "What do you mean what do I want?"

"What do you think I mean," Boyd mumbled, barely a hint of voice, as if he could hardly bother to speak aloud.

Disbelief morphed into incredulous irritation and Sin's eyes narrowed as he stared at him. The anxiety that had been building inside him, the doubts that had run through his mind, all came crashing down on him and his stomach twisted.

"What's your problem?" he demanded sharply, grabbing the front of Boyd's shirt and jerking him so that he was forced to look up.

Boyd's eyes snapped open in shock and for a moment he only stared at Sin, his heartbeat quickening enough that Sin could feel it against his knuckles. This time when he was silent it seemed as though he was too surprised to speak.

He searched Sin's expression in a mixture of disbelief and confusion, saying in a tone that seemed lost, "What..? You're--"

His bewildered gaze traveled up to Sin's hair, to the buzz cut he'd never had before. His eyebrows drew down as he reached up. The second his fingers brushed Sin's hair, his eyes widened and he jerked his hand away.

He met Sin's eyes with a mixture of so many emotions that it was difficult to read any of them except fear and disbelief. "You're real?"

The scowl melted slightly and Sin let go of him and stood up straight, staring down at Boyd in like concern. "Of course I'm real."

For a moment Boyd seemed too astounded to do anything except push himself up on his elbows and stare, his lips parting. He searched every bit of Sin's face and body intently, as if searching desperately for something that, judging by his expression, he didn't see. His honey brown eyes were charged with an emotion that seemed too difficult to decipher. But almost immediately, he snapped his gaze to the window and his expression closed off.

He pushed himself up to sit in a slouch, running one slightly shaking hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, then looked at Sin. "Why are you here?" he asked, his tone quiet.

"Wh--" Sin stopped and shook his head slowly, green eyes darkened by the shadows in the room as he stared down at Boyd. "Why wouldn't I be here?"

"You're not--" Boyd almost seemed frustrated briefly before even that much emotion disappeared and he fell silent, studying him for a moment. When he spoke, his tone was reasonable but close to the remote quality of when they first met. "Because there's no reason for you to be here. I don't know how you're still alive, or what they told you, but... I am no longer with the Agency. I am no longer your partner."

Sin's lips parted and his eyebrows drew together. Something inside him began to freeze over as his hands tightened into fists at his side. He didn't hide the confusion in his face. He didn't hide the fact that he didn't understand.

"Why are you saying that to me?" he asked finally.