Book 2: Chapter 46: Go Time (1/2)

Well this is awkward,” Dan stated. Awkwardly.

Was it time to fess up? Was he even allowed to? Cornelius was at more risk than Dan was, really, and these two were his family. Dan didn't even have to explain his own power; it was perfectly plausible that a genuinely mutated short-hop could accomplish what Dan had against Bartholomew. So why not?

Well for one, Cornelius hadn't told them himself, and there might be a good reason for that. Or maybe the older officer just didn't think it necessary. Or maybe he thought that was what Dan wanted. They'd never really talked about it. Either way, Dan had one last card to try before he broke.

”Cornelius does know,” he acknowledged, ”and I'm not sure what I'm allowed to tell you.”

”You're going to tell us everything,” Freya repeated. ”The two of you have been keeping secrets that affect us, and it's time to clear the air. Cornelius isn't here, so you have to do it.”

Connor frowned at her indignantly. ”And when did you figure this out, dearest, and why is this the first I've heard of it!?”

She broke eye contact with Dan to roll them at Connor. ”It was written on their faces, plain as day, when Cornelius told Daniel about the breakout. I assumed that Daniel helped your uncle in some small, dubiously legal way, but that doesn't explain why Andros Bartholomew is visiting Daniel's old home. I might normally ignore it, but given our friendship, what impacts him might eventually impact us.” Her eyes swiveled back to him and he froze. ”So. Speak.”

Dan scratched his head. She was like a dog with a bone, clearly unwilling to let it go. He either needed a plausible lie or to just speak the truth. There was no reason not to tell at this point. Anything he could come up with might actually be worse than the truth, and he wasn't exactly ashamed of what he did. It was just a little disconcerting, admitting to picking a fight with a terrorist to a couple of cops.

”Fuck it,” he said with a shrug. ”Fine. You got me.” He raised his hands up dramatically. ”Good ol' Barty tried to kidnap me too. Succeeded, as well.”

Both of his friends reeled back in shock.

Dan continued, ”He stuck me in the basement of some random booby trapped building and stuck a bomb inside of me. Claimed it would blow up if I left a certain area.”

”That's a horrible position to be in,” Connor said with sympathy. His body language made it seem like he would've patted Dan on the back if not for the wire mesh between the front and rear seats. ”Trust me, I understand how it feels to be made helpless. My uncle saved you, I suppose? Though I don't understand why you would keep that from us.”

”Ah.” Dan scratched his cheek. ”No. Turns out my ability to selectively choose what I teleport with me also applies to things inside of me. And... to Bartholomew's vapor form. I might've, perhaps, accidentally amputated a few of his limbs. And some of his face. And skin.” Dan held his fingers together. ”Just a bit.”

Connor blinked, and in a hollow voice, said, ”Oh. I see.”

Dan winced. ”I was understandably upset at being kidnapped. Also, the whole”—he gestured at Connor—”experimenting on my friends thing.”

Connor turned away from him, to slump in his seat. ”Yes, that was very thoughtful of you.”

The younger man seemed awfully dejected that Dan hadn't been rendered helpless and hopeless by a terrorist. Dan would try not to take that personally. Connor was still learning to not be a pompous little jackass. It was a process.

”Anyway, I called Cornelius for help,” Dan admitted.

Freya nodded. ”He covered it up, and took credit for the capture.”

Dan snapped his fingers, then pointed at her. ”Exactly.”

”Does the FBI know?” she asked.

Dan shook his head. ”Don't think so. Cornelius said he didn't tell a soul. So... keep it to yourselves, pretty please?”

”Naturally,” Freya replied, rolling her eyes for what might have been the fifth time in an hour. ”Even if I weren't fond of Abigail, it's as I said before: any trouble that found you would inevitably affect Cornelius, and Connor in turn.”

Dan blinked. ”No need to get sentimental on my account, Freya.”

She ignored his quip, and brought up the laptop. ”We need to talk about next steps.”

Connor shook himself free of his malaise and deigned to contribute. ”Obviously, we will have to involve a higher ranking officer. We also need to secure medical assistance for the store clerk, and file a proper missing person report for the security guard. Unfortunately, there's no actual proof that it was Bartholomew, but a medical examination of the clerk might reveal something useful.”

Freya seemed uncertain. ”We could work on this on our own time. We aren't required to bring in anyone else, so long as we're looking into it off duty.”

Connor stared at her, aghast. ”Freya, that's practically obstruction of justice! It's almost criminal to not bring this evidence to light, not to mention the resources we are casting aside by going outside our roles as law enforcement!”

Freya clicked her tongue with dissatisfaction. ”The department is making plenty of progress on its own. I doubt anything will even come of this.” She gestured to the laptop. ”Why do you think your uncle has been in meetings all day? They're clearly planning a raid in the coming days!”

Connor frowned. ”You think so?”