Chapter 102 (1/2)

Dan floated in the cold embrace of the Gap, doing his best to scheme. It wasn't exactly his most polished skill, but practice made perfect. So far as he was concerned, he had two major goals that he needed to accomplish once he dropped back into reality. The first was to make sure that Andros Bartholomew did not escape again. The man was a bastard of the highest order; not only had he killed who knows how many people in an insane attempt to capture and experiment on Dan, but he had also deeply traumatized someone who had become a decent friend. Connor deserved closure and, possibly more importantly, retribution.

Which neatly segued into Dan's second major goal: he wanted it to hurt. He wanted Bartholomew to feel at least a fraction of the suffering that he'd caused in his lifetime. It was a vicious thought. Dan was almost unnerved by just how angry he had been in those last moments, a jolt of pure rage that had surge through him like lightning. Here and now, feeling the numb and disconnected clarity that t-space always brought, he could see why he had been so affected.

It was guilt. People were hurt, people had died, were dying even in this very moment. All because of a madman's obsession with him. All because Dan had drawn too much attention to himself. It wasn't his fault. Objectively, he understood that. But knowing something and feeling it were two different things. Emotions rarely bowed to reality and anger always needed a target.

So he wanted it to hurt, when Bartholomew went down. To do that... he might need Anastasia. Dan was loathe to even speak to her, but in this case he was technically doing her a favor. The older woman had been the first person to suggest something like a kidnapping might happen, after all, and he still had the phone she'd given him with a built in tracker. The real question was if she'd turn Bartholomew over to the FBI after she was done with him.

He might not have a Magic 8-Ball on hand, but signs pointed to no. He couldn't honestly picture her sharing the man when he had such clear ties to the People. She'd drop Bartholomew in a hole somewhere and the world would never hear from him again. Which would leave Dan to answer some very uncomfortable questions. Questions like 'where have you been for the past four hours?' His disappearance was undoubtedly noticed by now. People would be worried; his friends would be worried.

He'd have to let Abby know he was okay.

Regardless, questions would come in the aftermath. He could tell the truth, and implicate Anastasia, but all that would do is piss her off unnecessarily. It was incredibly obvious to him that she had the kind of clout necessary to dodge anything short of a presidential assassination, caught on camera, in front of a crowd of thousands. She'd walk away smelling like roses and he would look like an idiot. He could hear it already, the obvious question: why call her, instead of the police?

Which meant Anastasia was out of the picture. She couldn't help him in a way that wouldn't backfire on Dan. That left... who exactly? Who could he call that had a grudge against Andros? Who would take down the scientist with maximum force and minimum risk?

It wasn't just a matter of calling the police, either. He had to know that he wasn't endangering any more lives on this. Whoever they sent needed to be competent and experienced. Moreover, he wanted to help. At least a part of this mess lay on his shoulders, and he refused to ignore that responsibility. The police would direct him to retreat; they'd call him in and interrogate him on what he remembered, but Bartholomew would be long gone by the time they tracked down the dingy little doctor's office he'd kept Dan in.

So someone with the capabilities of a SPEAR team member, who had a grudge against Andros Bartholomew, and was willing to play fast and loose with the law.

A face twigged in his memory.

Right, that guy.

”Cornelius Graham speaking, who is this?”

It was Abby, of all people, who had acquired the phone number of Connor's uncle. The reasoning she'd sheepishly given, was that Dan could give the man a call if Connor hadn't made an appearance within a week or two. It was, she had reasoned, an entirely rational action, and not at all fueled by helpless worry. Dan hadn't been sure how she'd found the older officer's number, nor was he inclined to ask. He'd simply added the thing to his contact list and moved on, assuming that it might be useful at some point.

Well that was certainly paying off in spades, and much sooner than he'd imagined.

”Officer Graham, it's Daniel Newman,” Dan said quickly. He didn't have the luxury of time in real space, so he couldn't be subtle about this. ”I was kidnapped by Andros Bartholomew, the same asshole to kidnapped your nephew. Track this phone. I'm going to stall him as long as I can.”

”You what—!?”

Dan ignored the incredulous shriek in favor of teleporting back to Andros' lair. The phone would lose connection for a moment, but he was using the advanced model that Anastasia had given him. Having looked up the specs online, he was certain that something as trivial as teleportation wouldn't impact its performance for more than a moment.

He didn't know how long it would take for Cornelius to act, nor how long it would take to track Dan down. Hopefully the man would believe him and do his best; Dan would do what he could in the meantime. Less than ten seconds had passed since Dan had escaped. Hopefully Andros was still in the room. Dan wasn't looking forward to hunting the man down through his lair, as there were bound to be all manner of unpleasant traps awaiting him outside the little doctor's office.

He reappeared in a corner of the dilapidated room he'd been stashed in. Immediately, he pocketed his phone, before examining his surroundings. Andros was still present, coughing violently and leaning almost parallel to the ground. His situation almost mirrored Dan's, moments before he'd been rendered unconscious. On the floor, covered in bodily fluids, was the mad scientist's kill switch. The tiny plastic orb had been vomited up by the doctor. Unfortunate.

The man was clearly distracted, so Dan leapt into action. He blinked behind the man, slamming his heel into the back of the villain's knee. At the same time, he attempted to loop his arm around Andros' neck, and put the man into a choke-hold. Both actions were immediately foiled as, upon impact, Andros shattered into a thick fog. Dan reflexively flinched backwards, teleporting to a corner of the room. He stumbled as he reappeared, his foot slightly numb. Dan was still wearing the heavy work boots he'd chosen for rescue work, yet the gaseous substance making up Bartholomew's body had almost instantly soaked through it.

The enraged scientist's body had dispersed upon Dan's strike, but it slowly drifted back into humanoid shape. Dan, unsure of how he could attack a ball of gas, sent his veil snaking along the tile floor. The tendril wrapped itself around the discarded poison device, and with a flicker of Dan's will, it reappeared in his hand. He grimaced at the slimy texture, but any disgust he might have felt was disregarded when Andros reformed.

”You impudent, cloddish Neanderthal!” Andros spewed between great, wracking coughs. His shoulder shook, either with effort or rage, as he pointed an unsteady finger in Dan's general direction. ”I'm going to make you regret ever—”

Dan vanished between one word and the next, reappearing directly behind the mad scientist. This time, rather than striking at the man, he simply fisted his back collar and yanked gently backwards. The scientist's unsteady, wide-legged stance, while good for dramatically threatening an enemy, wasn't particularly stable, and he toppled like a tree. Dan helped him along, lightly but steadily pulling backwards, while neatly tripping the man with his free leg.