#agent stern/barclay/indrid cold/Duck newton | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bellafarallones2 · 10 months ago

Text

prison break (2/2)

part 2 of this, in which questions are answered

Duck Newton used a nondescript keycard to swipe into the Bureau of Hero Management building at eight thirty. His footsteps were deafeningly loud on the tile in the empty lobby: any sane employee had already gone home for the evening.

Getting summoned here always made him feel a little bit like he was in trouble. Especially when the summons was “at your earliest convenience.”

He took the elevator down to the lowest level of the basement. Maybe Agent X had a new upgrade for one of Duck’s weapons, though these days more of Duck’s sparring with his nemesis had been verbal than physical.

The elevator doors opened, and Duck found himself in a familiar windowless room. The lights had been dimmed, illuminating only the steel table where Agent X was sitting on a stool, a laptop open in front of him. “Good evening, Mr. Newton,” said Agent X. His voice was perfectly pleasant, but Duck had always found him unsettling.

“Uh, yeah. Hey, Agent X. What did you want to meet about?”

“I assume you heard about the prison break in Nevada in May,” said Agent X.

“Yeah, that was wild,” said Duck, only more confused about why he’d been summoned here. None of Kepler’s heroes had even had anything to do with search efforts, as far as he’d heard.

“We have recovered pieces of the explosive that was used to breach the prison wall. From outside, oddly enough.” Agent X gestured to the steel table in front of him, and Duck leaned over it to examine the charred pieces of the device.

“The method seems flashy,” Agent X continued. “More like a supervillain than an ordinary criminal, but none of the escapees have connections to any known supervillain, and none of them seem to have known it was coming. I know you’ve been a hero for several years, and are familiar with most of the major villains in Kepler. Does this workmanship look like anything you’ve seen before?”

Duck squinted. He could reconstruct it in his mind, sort of, the way a device small enough to fit in a backpack had been engineered to produce enough force to blow through a wall. It was clever. The soldering was very neat. It reminded him of…

He bit his tongue and looked up at Agent X. The agent’s face was blank, as always, his blue eyes as cold as the table they were standing over.

“I’ll think about it,” said Duck.

–

At home, posted up on the couch in his boxer shorts with his cat around his shoulders, Duck pulled up The Moth’s file, rereading the text he already knew pretty much by heart. The Moth - Indrid Cold - had few known associates, certainly not any of the men who’d escaped from prison in Nevada. Duck sighed at the prospect of cross-referencing the Moth’s dates of activity against the lives of the escapees to see if any of them could have met.

Then his phone buzzed with a news alert. Six of the escapees had been captured at once, together in an abandoned hunting cabin a few dozen miles from the prison. That meant only one was still at large.

Barclay Cobb. According to the news article Duck pulled up, he’d been a mild-mannered cook before his arrest for the murder of the man he’d been sleeping with, an FBI special agent called Joseph Stern. A cook - Duck thought of the time a few weeks ago when he ran across The Moth sitting on a fire escape, eating something out of a Thermos. Duck had never seen him eating anything except packaged snacks. My roommate said if I was going to be out all night he should pack me a snack, he had said when Duck asked what he was doing. He’s an amazing cook.

But Duck was distracted from that thought almost instantly. There was a picture of Special Agent Joseph Stern on the page, smiling at the camera in his black suit and tie, and it was a picture of Agent X.

It couldn’t be. Did he have a twin? Duck read further - Agent Stern’s body was never found, but the last person to see him alive was Barclay, Stern’s fingerprints were all over the inside of Barclay’s car, and a jury had found him guilty of the murder. And sentenced him to die.

A loud rapping at the window above Duck’s head made him yell “Fuck!” and shove the laptop off his lap. A ghostly face had appeared in the darkness, with reflective red sunglasses.

Duck almost tripped over his laptop cord in his haste to get to the window and throw it open. The Moth, dressed in all black, slipped inside.

“You broke Barclay Cobb out of prison,” said Duck.

“Took you long enough to figure it out,” Indrid teased.

“You’d never done a prison break before! As far as I knew. Why’d you do this one?”

“Because I knew he was innocent.”

“How?”

“I had a vision. I didn’t know what actually happened to Joseph Stern. But I think you just figured it out.”

“There’s no way. He must be a twin or something.”

“I don’t think so.” Indrid smiled, that smile that always made Duck’s knees and professional ethics alike go weak. “Do you want to go searching for birth certificates? Or do you want to cut to the chase and just ask him?”

Duck pulled out his phone and dialed the laboratory. “We might have to call back tomorrow if he’s asleep now,” Duck warned.

But Agent X picked up immediately. “Hello, who’s speaking?”

“Hey, uh, it’s Duck. I thought of something about that prison break. Can I come talk to you sometime? Sometime soon?”

“How soon can you get back here?”

“Uhhh…” Duck covered the receiver and looked at Indrid. “I don’t think the trains run this late more than once an hour.”

“I brought my car,” said Indrid.

Duck spoke into the phone again. “I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and looked at Indrid. “Just let me put some real pants on.”

–

Indrid’s car was parked in the alley behind Duck’s apartment. “You know that’s a no-parking zone,” Duck grumbled as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Indrid just tapped the side of his glasses smugly. The radio turned on automatically as Indrid started the engine, and Duck was unsurprised to discover that Indrid had it tuned to a Kepler police scanner.

“I know, I know, you’ve got powers and can tell whether you’re gonna get a ticket or not. Do you need the address?” Duck added as Indrid pulled out of the alley.

“I know where the Bureau of Hero Management is, chivalrous one.”

“Of course you do.” Duck reached under his seat to scoot it forward - the last person to sit there must have been tall as fuck.

Without traffic they made relatively good time. “I’ve never actually been inside before,” Indrid admitted as he pulled into the parking garage. It took him two tries to make the ticket machine give him one.

They took the elevator from the garage into the same place Duck had been just a few hours ago. He’d wondered before, seeing Agent X here at all hours, whether he might sleep here.

Agent X barely allowed surprise to flash across his face at the sight of Indrid in the elevator at Duck’s shoulder. “Hello, Ranger,” said Agent X. “And who’s this? I hope you have good reason for bringing him here.”

“Are you a twin, Agent X?” said Indrid.

Agent X tensed instantly. “Why do you ask?”

Indrid cocked his head. “I have a photo to show you.”

He pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture of Joseph Stern, smiling. Agent X bent over it. “Who is that?”

Indrid sighed, pulled a compact mirror out of his pocket, set it on the table so Agent X could see his own reflection.

“Oh,” said Agent X. “Oh, fuck. Who is that?”

“A man who’s been presumed dead for ten years.”

“...Who are you?”

“I’m Indrid Cold. The Moth. Duck’s nemesis.”

Agent X buried his face in his hands. Then he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I have a twin or not. I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything before… ten years ago, it would be. Working here. But I… Duck.” He met Duck’s eye and then touched the back of his head, parting the hair as he turned so Duck and Indrid could see the scar running horizontally along the back of his skull. Like someone had cut his scalp open from ear to ear and then sewed him back up. “Who is in that picture?” He turned back to face them.

“Special Agent Joseph Stern,” said Indrid.

“I… that name means nothing to me,” said Agent X.

“What about this picture?” Indrid pulled up another one, of a man with an auburn beard. It took Duck a moment to recognize him; he looked different than he had in his prison pictures. Less miserable.

“Barclay,” breathed Joseph. “I - I know him. I don’t know how. I know he’s important to me. Or he was. Where is he? Is he okay?”

“Until a few weeks ago he was on death row for your murder.”

“What? What the fuck? Oh, no, he�� the escapee. The Nevada police all think he’s dead; he had no experience surviving outdoors and there’s no logical reason they haven’t been able to find him. He must have died in the woods or the desert somewhere.”

“You really don’t remember anything from before?” said Duck, not quite believing.

Agent X shook his head. Then suddenly his gaze went sharp again. “Hayes. Agent Hayes would know.” He started for the elevator.

“Uh,” said Duck. “It’s past ten, there’s no way he’s here.”

“We could still search his office,” said Indrid.

The three of them took the elevator all the way up to the top floor. The windows here afforded panoramic views of Kepler’s skyline, and Hayes had a corner office.

“How do you want to do this?” said Agent X. “I can start with his desk and you guys can do the file cabinets?”

“Just give me a minute,” said Indrid. “We don’t have to go through every drawer.”

“Oh. Your powers. Of course.”

Indrid was silent for a moment, eyes closed, rocking back and forth almost imperceptibly on his heels. Then he reached for a drawer in the middle of the filing cabinet.

It was locked. Indrid sighed and went digging in his pockets.

Agent X reached across him and yanked the drawer out hard enough to break the lock.

“That’s another option.” Indrid pulled out the drawer, flipping through the manila folders inside until he pulled one out and put it on Hayes’ desk. It bulged with papers and the lump of a slim, black leather wallet.

Agent X opened the wallet. “Oh, fuck.” A Wisconsin driver’s license belonging to one Joseph Richard Stern. A very faded Costco membership card. A photo of an infant in a pink onesie.

“I don’t know who that is,” said Joseph, holding the photograph.

“Your niece, I believe,” said Indrid softly. Joseph and Duck both looked over at him.

Indrid shrugged. “Barclay told me you had a two-year-old niece who you adored.”

Someone had written on the back of the photograph in blue pen Baby Olivia, 11-14-2009. Joseph stared at it for a long moment, then looked back up at Indrid. “Is he okay? Barclay?”

Indrid was quiet for a moment. “About as well as could be expected,” he said finally. “He has nightmares. But he’s sleeping through the night more often than he did back in May.”

“And all because of me.”

“Hey, whoa,” said Duck. “I’m not getting the vibe that you agreed to have all your memories wiped. And even if you did, it sounds like it was more the DA in Nevada who decided to blame Barclay for you disappearing.”

Joseph put everything back in the wallet and put the wallet in the back pocket of his slacks. “I still have to fix this.”

Duck cleared his throat. “So, uh, should we still call you Agent X?”

“Please call me Joseph.”

–

The three of them were still there when the first others people started arriving in the office the next morning. It reminded Duck of stakeouts he’d done before as a hero, except with slightly comfier seating and less fast-food takeout.

Finally an older man in a black suit came into the office and shut the door behind him. This must be Hayes. His appearance was unremarkable in every way, the kind of man you’d forget as soon as he left your field of vision.

“Agent X?” he said. “What are you doing here? And who are these people?”

Joseph stood up. There were dark circles under his eyes. “What happened to me?” he demanded.

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Joseph Stern. That’s my real name. And you knew it, and you never told me, and Barclay was sentenced to death for murdering me!”

“That was never my intention. I didn’t realize the Nevada prosecutors would be quite so zealous as to put a man on death row with no real evidence.” Hayes sat down in his desk chair and started booting up his computer. “But really, what’s one life against all the good you’ve done working for us?”

“Not just one life. All of his friends and family, all of my friends and family… that’s not just collateral damage!”

“You were going to quit. I couldn’t let you.”

“Well, consider this my resignation. And give me my memories back.”

Hayes laughed. “Oh, no, you think I have your memories in a bottle somewhere? Like a science fiction movie? No. We opened your skull and used a laser to abrade your hippocampus. The man you were before is gone. Forever.”

Joseph made it two steps into a lunge for Hayes before Duck tackled him out of the way. “Hey, man, do you really want to start a fight here? Or do you want to go tell the police in Nevada that you’re alive so you can get Barclay set free?”

For a moment Joseph fought him, but Duck was stronger. And then Joseph went limp on the tile floor. “Let’s get out of here.”

–

“Thirty-five dollars for parking??” said Indrid when he put the ticket back into the machine to pay.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Joseph. “Maybe my employee ID will work?”

Indrid took it from him and scanned it. “Invalid employee ID.”

“Fuck,” said Joseph.

“I’ve got some cash,” said Duck, pulling out his wallet. He handed over a ten and three ones.

“All I have is a twenty,” said Joseph.

“Fine, fine,” said Indrid. He flinched an instant before the car in line behind them honked, and then fed the bills as well as some from his own wallet into the machine.

All three of them let out a sigh of relief when the gate opened to let them out.

“So, uh, where are we going?” said Duck.

“I want to see Barclay,” said Joseph.

“I’ll have to call him and warn him that we’re coming,” said Indrid. “Do you want me to tell him you’re back? Or do you want to do that yourself?”

Duck looked around and saw that Joseph looked nervous, like a kid about to ask his crush to prom. “...Will you tell him? I’m not sure I’d put it in the right way.”

“Alright,” said Indrid. He picked up his phone and handed it to Duck. “Duck, will you call Barclay and hand me back the phone?”

Duck handed it back while it was ringing. He and Joseph could only hear Indrid’s half of the conversation. “Hello, Barclay. I just wanted to alert you that I’ll be back in about twenty minutes and I have two people with me. One is my nemesis, Duck, and the other one is Joseph Stern. Yes, we found him. It turns out he’d had his memory wiped by a shadowy government organization but he’s at least somewhat back now. Yes, he remembers you. No, he knows you didn’t have anything to do with what happened.”

Joseph made a sound like a choked-off sob.

“No, we haven’t had breakfast yet. Yes. We’ll see you soon, Barclay.”

Indrid hung up the phone.

“Is he still…” Joseph’s question trailed off.

“Single?” said Indrid, sounding slightly amused. “As far as I’m aware.”

“Can we stop somewhere on the way back so I can buy flowers for him? He… he always liked flowers.”

Indrid looked over. “Alright.”

“Thank you. Just let me run in.”

They stopped in a grocery store parking lot and let Joseph out. Duck and Indrid sat there in silence, watching people and cars go by. A woman with a baby in one arm left the grocery store with her purchases, twelve-packs of RC Cola stacked up in the bottom of the cart.

“Well, it’s been a long night,” said Duck.

“Yes, it has.” Indrid’s body was slack against the driver’s seat. “But I thought you might like to see this through before you go home to sleep.”

“Yeah. How do you feel about all this? Reuniting people, uncovering truths… it all seems a little heroic for you.”

“On the contrary.” Indrid smiled. “The Bureau of Hero Management just lost their most competent agent. Every villain in the city should be thanking me.”

A few minutes later Stern emerged from the grocery store with a spring bouquet, mostly pink and red flowers. He slid into the back seat and buckled his seatbelt. “Thank you. Now I’m ready to see him.”

–

Duck had been curious to find out where Indrid’s lair was, and he watched the street signs as they drove closer.

“Don’t bother,” said Indrid quietly. “Now that you know where I live, I’ll be moving soon.”

“That seems like a hassle,” said Duck.

Indrid shrugged. “Life of a villain on the run.”

The door of the basement apartment opened as they reached it. Duck was startled by what a big guy Barclay was, even taller and broader than Indrid and Joseph, who were both over six feet. But Barclay wasn’t looking at Duck. He was looking at Joseph, his brown eyes red-rimmed with emotion.

Indrid’s voice broke the tension. “Let’s get inside and then you two can catch up.”

“Of course,” said Barclay and stood aside to let them in.

“Hey,” said Duck. “Uh. I’m Duck.”

Barclay nodded. “Indrid has a picture of you above his workbench.”

“Really?”

Indrid had his head in his hands. “There were so many futures where you didn’t say that.”

“Do I inspire you, ‘Drid?”

At that moment Joseph offered Barclay the bouquet of flowers. “These are for you. I’m so sorry for everything. I’m going to go to the police in Nevada and get this all cleared up, I’m so sorry, I didn’t remember, I never thought…”

“Oh, Joseph.” Barclay pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m just so fucking glad you’re alive, holy shit, I thought, I thought you were dead!”

“I know. I’m sorry. And I… I still don’t remember everything from before. I don’t know if I remember my family.” Joseph held Barclay at arm’s length for a moment to look into his face, eyes now brimming with tears. “But I remember loving you.”

Barclay kissed him, hard, and after a moment of surprise Joseph melted into his arms.

Duck averted his eyes. Then he felt Indrid’s cool hand slip into his and start tugging him back towards the front door. “Let’s give them some space.”

#sternclay

7 notes · View notes