White Queen's Knight Reactivated

Participants:

devon_icon.gif elisabeth2_icon.gif

Scene Title White Queen's Knight Reactivated
Synopsis His other team is implicated and his perspective is needed.
Date January 4, 2020

RayTech, Jared Harrison's Apartment


Twenty minutes ago, a text went to Devon's phone. It is an old code. One Devon hasn't seen in 9 years. <WQK to B1.> White Queen's Knight to home. Back then, it would have meant get his ass to the Skinny Brickfront for a major problem. 'Home' now is RayTech. She's calling him home, and whatever it is, it's bad. <Be alert> is the only other information that follows.

The message alert draws a silent look that slowly hardens, grows cold. It's been nearly a decade since any messages like that had touched his phone. The realization is staggering. Almost ten years. Devon drags his mind back from the rabbit hole known as nostalgia — an odd sort of nostalgia — and pushes himself away from his desk. He doesn't question it, doesn't even reply. He just grabs his old leather bomber jacket, shrugs into it, and heads for the street.

Thumbs tap away on the screen of his phone. Messages go out, three of them and cryptic enough to make even the King and Queen smirk. But they're intended, in their way, to alert his superiors to his movement and pass a warning to Emily. He’ll provide more details once he has them. The phone is pushed into his pocket as he turns down a street, long strides carrying him to Raytech.

By the time he reaches the RayTech building, it's clear that it's very bad. The lobby is full of security personnel. One of Elisabeth's security detail, Alessandro, is waiting for Devon in the lobby. His face is impassive, but there's a hint of concern in his features as he makes his way to Devon. "She said she'd meet you upstairs in Mr. Harrison's apartment."

Concern and confusion briefly veil his own passivity as he enters the lobby. Devon reaches back, sorting through memories of the last few days of news for anything public that might explain the lockdown. There's nothing that he can recall.

A look angles to Alessandro when the bodyguard speaks up. Brows raise, but the young man nods. “Thanks. Let me know if anything changes.” He's not sure how much the man knows about anything, but he's willing to bet on someone charged with keeping Liz safe.

His lingering lasts only as long as it takes to get to the elevator and onto it. Devon presses the button to Jared’s floor, then folds his arms against his chest for the ride up.

She's not there when he arrives, leaving him alone to pace the empty place. His 'grandfather' and the lady he is attempting to (re?)build his life with are not in residence at the moment. It's a little while before she can get to the apartment, and when she does, she looks… well, he's seen the look on a lot of soldiers through the war. He's seen it in Elisabeth a few times. But she is fully 'on duty' in this moment, sharp, in control to the point that no hint of her stress is causing even the slightest hint of a hum around her, with an air of leashed violence. And yet her voice, when she speaks to him, is both calm and reassuring.

"Hey, kiddo. Glad you got here so quick. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. I had to talk to Michelle first. I need to know if you're back on full enough duty with Wolfhound to know if they're running a dark operation."

The apartment is familiar enough. He still spends nights in when he isn't crashed at the Bastion. That he should probably find a more permanent place to live is an odd, passing thought. A strange thing to touch his mind while he waits. He doesn't raid the fridge or help himself to anything that might still be in the pantry, but he does wander until the door opening brings him back to his reason for being here.

“It's fine,” he dismisses the apology. A message like that, he'd suspect there were plenty of people Liz would need to communicate with. “What…”

The question is met with confusion. “The fuck.” A dark operation? He mulls over that for a good minute before realizing he'd dropped the F-bomb. Not that the following apology seems to hold any embarrassment. It's sort of delayed and almost reluctant. “Sorry. I… I don't know. That's… why?”

As if Elisabeth doesn't drop the F-bomb on a constant basis? She doesn't really notice that he uses it. Crossing her arms, holding them tightly to her solar plexus, she says quietly, "Because Rue came to see Richard today. And then she apparently drugged his ass and had him taken right from his office by a teleporter. It wouldn't be the first time the government as an entity has fucked around like this. So before I go ballistic on anyone, I would like to make sure if what's happening is some classified black op bullshit that I just need to rip a few new assholes instead of tac-nuking them."

Oh look… it's her trying not to just kick in doors. But he is one of the few who understands even after all this time — the level of stress she's got to be feeling usually results in humming. She's not humming.

Rue?” Disbelief, as if he'd just been told Santa Claus isn't real, Devon stares at Liz. She can tell he's working through what he'd just learned, analyzing the information as though she weren't two seconds from destroying the entire campus with a single sonic boom. He needs a moment, and he takes it.

Eventually he shakes his head. He's still denying that Rue would have anything to do with drugging people. Sharing a beer, sure. That's normal. But this…

“Who's the teleporter?” Not the most logical of first questions, but it might point to something. “And you're sure it was Rue Lancaster. Because that doesn't sound like anything she'd do, and definitely not any kind of op Wolfhound has ever been involved in since its founding.” He knows things could have changed, but this even seems beyond anything the command would put into motion.

Dev rubs a hand against the back of his head. “We're a private organization. We take government contracts, but this… I don't know, Liz. It can't be us.”

"Dev…. this nearly exact scenario is how I wound up in fucking Antarctica watching that man turn into a nuclear shadow," Elisabeth tells him quietly. When she meets his eyes, she's intent. "It may not be Wolfhound, but it was definitely Rue Lancaster. I'm reasonably well acquainted lately."

There's a pause and she adds softly, "Maybe she's working with or for someone else, because I know Wolfhound doesn't have a teleporter. I don't know who that was, there wasn't a good enough shot to ID them. I'm hoping to God the answer is that she's working for the Witches." There's a flash of anguish. "If that's not the answer, he could well be in a lot more danger." Adam fucking Monroe is an elephant in the room.

“I've known Rue Lancaster for nearly as long as you were trapped in an alternate universe.” Devon’s counter argument is quiet, reasoning that whatever acquaintanceship between his teammate at Liz can't be outweighed by the brotherhood of soldiering. “I don't know who you saw, but there's no way Rue would drug and aid in abducting anyone let alone a public figure like Richard.” He refuses to believe it.

He takes a step back, half turning so he can look out the windows and think. Jumping to conclusions isn't going to help anything. They can have pretty damning evidence if the cameras caught her face but…

“It could have been a technopath.” He turns again and looks at Liz. “Praxis got hit, remember? Maybe this is connected.”

"Maybe so," Elisabeth concedes the possibility. "But she had an appointment on the books today, walked in, sat and chatted with him, attempted to get him to fuck her — or at least pretended to want him to fuck her — and he dropped like a rock, unconscious. She walked out, told Sera to he shadowed out of the office after a phone call and to cancel his meetings. The teleporter took him straight from the office."

Elisabeth's voice is calm, but he knows better. She's under control, but considering all that has happened … she's scared. "You can watch the footage yourself. If, somehow, it's not Rue?" The implications are far, far worse.

There's no denial or refusal that something is wrong in spite of Devon maintaining a calm exterior. He's slowly trying to dissect the problem, to investigate it from every angle without jumping to conclusions. Insisting that his teammate is innocent is part of that process.

He hangs on what he knows for a long moment. Like working over a puzzle without any images to reference the final product from, it's difficult at best. His brow furrows, he turns from Liz to stand near the window and look down.

“What if it's one of the travelers that came with you?”

The question is laid out quietly, though it seems loud when it cuts through the silence. Devon looks back at Liz. “I'm not doubting who you think you saw, but this… it’s not her style. There's got to be another explanation. I mean, there's weird shit happening all around. Remember that strange explosion over in Jersey?”

"Dev…" Elisabeth pauses, unwilling to insist on Rue's guilt. "There are a lot of possibilities. Alia is already checking on whether it's falsified digitally. I'm reasonably certain a version of Rue wasn't among the group I brought home, but I didn't see or know all of them," she acknowledges. "Could be an impersonator, could be an illusion, could be that Rue was hyped on drugs or otherwise mentally fucked up. But the video doesn't lie, and Rue's name was on the visitor list and Rue was seen in that office. So if nothing else… I have to go talk to them. For all I know right now, there's an operation running and she's part of it. It wouldn't be the first time shit like this has happened."

Dragging her good hand up through her hair, Elisabeth admits softly, "Honestly? I want that to be the goddamn answer, for a helluva lot of reasons, Devon." The flash of anguish is minuscule, barely there and then gone, squelched. "Let's … rule out the possibilities, and let the facts take us where they will. Okay? I'd like you to come with me."

Insisting and arguing with him won't win any ground, Devon's already got his heels dug in. And while he's matured a lot in the years following Liz’s disappearance, he hasn't outgrown his stubbornness. He's at least willing to agree to finding the facts. Investigation will — should — show what really happened. He nods, instead of tugging on the one lead they have presently.

“Yeah,” he replies. “I'll go with. I'll help however I can.” It goes without saying, even though he says it anyway.

Dev steps away from the window and approaches Elisabeth again. With an arm he reaches for her to hug her around the shoulders. “We’ll figure this out. And we’ll do it a hell of a lot faster than he did when getting you home.” It's not an idle promise.

He's the first person she's let touch her since they found out. And Elisabeth wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. He's no longer the teenaged boy she knew, he's a young man … and she's proud as hell of him. A few tears escape to dampen his shoulder and she pulls in a shaky breath. It's taking everything she has to stay focused on the job right now. Miles to go before we sleep.

"Let's go. I called Avi and woke his ass up on my way in," she tells him evenly. She won't let the emotions out — if she does, she might lose her shit.


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