Arc Two of Extinction (Chapter Twenty-Five: Save Yourself (PART I of the Finale))

Well, there wasn't much action in this one, it was more focused on characters. I'm planning the next one, and it is a little more action-based, so more exciting...hopefully?

Is Dana's computer still broken or what was it? I hope she can come back online soon!

I dn't know, Danny. she aitn been online in ages, tho!

Character development is as important though, and it's not like you never have any action.

I think so. She hasn't been online for ages

Yeah, thanks for the reassurance Lowri. It is a bit lacking in action, nothing compared to sylar796's back on the beeb.

I hope she is still reading, as Danielle is really important this Arc! Has Jakey been online at all?

SPOILER:
Elan's dark side might shine through after all this Arc, just to keep your hope alive.

Great chapter!

I agree with Lowri- to have a good story there should only be four or five action packed chapters and character development is vital.

Thanks man.

You guys know what you're doing. I'll take it that you don't mind not having too many action-orientated installments then.

I'm starting to think it might be a bit dangerous for me on this site, because of spoilers. I've already come across a few that have potentially ruined this season for me, and that's just from pictures in people's signatures that I unwittingly come across. I will still try and post new chapters, but since everyone else here watches online and has seen the last (ever) episode of Heroes (I think the finale has aired right?) it isn't really safe for me to come on here anymore. So, sorry about that. I'll be back online properly when the beeb catches up, whenever that is. *shakes head sadly* Until then, goodbye.

Then again maybe not! Aaaaaaaaaaah, I dunno. I'm going away for a week on monday either way. So anyway here is the next chapter!

The freezing water washed over her, soaking her clothes and hair. She sat hugging her knees, letting the tears roll down her cheeks, only to be washed away with the icy water. Too distressed to even undress, she had only wanted to wash off the blood covering her hands and clothes. But it was there forever now, tarnishing her conscience and infecting her mind. Or what remained of them anyway.
The sounds of muffled footsteps reached Sarah’s ears from the other side of the shower curtain, an eerie silhouette passing across it. ‘Who’s there?’
‘Only me,’ came the unmistakable voice of James O’Brian, self confident and a little too arrogant for his own good.
‘So no one,’ Sarah muttered to herself, closing her eyes, knowing he could hear her.
She heard him sigh and, without warning, the water sputtered and its temperature rose slightly. Sarah tilted her head back, enjoying the warming feeling of the water on her skin. It took her a few seconds to realise that something didn’t feel quite right. The liquid seemed heavier and thicker than water. Slowly she opened her eyes, already half-expecting what she would see.
The drops now spurting from the shower head and drenching her were a deep crimson colour, bordering on black. Her eyes and ears were clogged and she could taste it in her mouth. That distinctive, bitter taste: blood. For a second she was completely paralysed in horror, all her senses filled with revulsion. Then her mind regained control and she let out a lung-emptying scream. She scrambled to her feet and, in her haste to get out, half tore the shower curtain from its railing. Her fall was stopped by a pair of strong arms, pulling her back to her feet with ease.
Sarah screamed again and tried to push him away. His twisted smile fell away from his face, replaced with a look of betrayed anger. ‘Get a grip on yourself!’ he hissed, eyes flashing with fury. He held her tightly by the wrists, and she gave up her attempts to wriggle from his grip.
Between violent sobs, Sarah managed: ‘I’m drenched... Drenched in blood! How...? Why did you do that? Get it off me!’ She frantically tried to wipe the evil liquid from her face.
‘You needed to understand,’ he spat, forcing her to turn and face the mirror. Suddenly, she stopped her efforts to rid her face of the blood, instead touching her cheek softly in disbelief. Her reflection mimicked her actions, putting a hand to a pale, yet unstained face.
‘It’s...’ Sarah began, her voice faltering. ‘It’s gone.’
Then she caught sight of something else in the mirror. The figure behind her, restraining her...wasn’t Jimmy. All she saw was a head of thick, black hair covering their face, before they flew forward, and Sarah was knocked aside. Jimmy’s fist shattered the glass off the wall, and he turned towards her, calmly holding out a bloody hand to her.
‘Time for your medication.’

Anton’s eyes darted rapidly around the neat, well-furnished hotel room. What he was looking for, he had no idea. Something...anything to link Korolov to Preston, he supposed. The fact that he didn’t really believe it himself made it ten times harder. But Alex McArthur was adamant that the politicians were working together, and Russian Intelligence were rarely wrong about anything. If it were true, Anton wondered how Dmitri Korolov’s allegiances could have so drastically switched sides.
During Anton’s years as his right-hand man, Anton had thankfully never had to make a choice between the politician’s life and his own. But if such a situation had arisen, Anton probably would have thrown himself in front of the bullet, just as he had done for the President. Dmitri Korolov’s importance in the liberation of evolved humans in Russia rivalled that of Vladimir Titov. Their partnership was written in the pages of history, their names as set in stone as those of the few other truly inspirational men that had graced the polluted business of politics. For Korolov to have turned his back on that...well, it went completely beyond Anton’s expectations of the man.
Currently, Anton accepted the small glass of no doubt highly expensive vodka, hearing the chair groan as the huge man sat opposite him. Feeling confident, Anton lifted his glass in a toast and said: ‘To the safe and prosperous future of our nation.’
‘Well-spoken, my friend,’ boomed Korolov, before necking his shot. Anton hesitated before doing the same, wondering how well this would sit with McArthur. Screw McArthur, he thought, he was enjoying a drink of vodka with an old friend. Where was the crime?

The buildings whizzed past, and Rachel absently followed the reflection of their car in the occasional shop windows. Something graced her hand softly and she looked up to see Chloe leaning from the front seat, smiling at her.
‘Everything alright?’ the older woman enquired. Somehow Rachel knew she didn’t mean it in a concerned way, more in a ‘Are you going to jeopardise this operation?’ way.
Rachel could never think of Chloe as cold. Back when they had both been in care, she had been the only one ever to comfort Rachel, look out for her and make her feel safe. But these past few months had revealed a whole new side to the teenage girl who had left her behind all those years ago. The Chloe Sanchez that worked for The Firm was hardened and thorough, putting the mission before everything else, even her own life. In a way, that fuelled Rachel’s respect for the agent even more. But it equally led her to feel more and more detached from Chloe, as Rachel knew that her one true loyalty lay with The Firm.
‘Everything’s fine,’ Rachel lied. Ever since that night on the rooftop, she had not been able to stop replaying the look in that poor man’s eyes as he had plummeted to his death. Even though she knew in her heart it had been either her life or his, and that she had done her best to save him, Rachel couldn’t shake the feeling that she had his blood on her hands.
Chloe sensed Rachel’s discomfort, but put it down to last minute nerves. After all, this was the girl’s first major mission. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, not the six years it had truly been since she had been in Rachel’s position. Chloe recalled feeling overwhelming responsibility, an unrivalled dread that she would screw up and people would die because of her. Above all, she had felt sick.
Chloe had her doubts about Rachel’s abilities, but she had voiced them countless times with Monica, to no avail. Whether Rachel was ready or not, she was a part of this mission and, right now, Chloe needed her feeling positive, not ready to puke.
‘You’ll do fine,’ she reassured Rachel, and herself, patting the girl’s hand gently. Then, without another word, she handed Rachel her firearm and turned back to face the front.

Proceeding to refill the two shot glasses, Korolov began sadly: ‘I was so sorry to hear about Sveta...’
Anton held up his hand to silence him. ‘Alas, you have nothing to be sorry for, there was nothing that could be done.’
‘All the same,’ Korolov passed him the second glass, ‘I just regret that I will not see her wondrous smile once more. She was a brilliant woman, so bright and full of life even when...well, you know.’
Anton nodded in agreement. A million thoughts of Sveta flowing through his mind, his eyes grew wet. ‘She stayed that way...right until the very end.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, my friend.’
Korolov picked up his own glass and raised it as Anton had done, ‘To Sveta.’
‘To Sveta,’ echoed Anton, wiping the tears from his eyes.
Grudgingly, he remembered his mission. Somewhere in the building, McArthur was obviously growing impatient, as a stern voice in his ear told him to get Korolov onto Preston. A few moments passed in silence, Korolov clearly lost in his thoughts and Anton wondering how to steer the conversation in the right direction.
‘We live in difficult times,’ he finally stated, accepting yet another glass of vodka. ‘It feels like everything you and the President have achieved hangs in the balance.’
‘Indeed,’ Korolov concurred, pausing to down his vodka in one fluid motion. ‘There are many threats to Russian people. I feel like, with the dictatorship of America revealed, the danger from them has only increased.’
‘And with Preston’s plans...’ Anton prodded.
There was a flash of something in the politician’s eyes. It went as quickly as it had come, but Anton caught it: reservation. He couldn’t know for sure, but Anton felt as if Korolov had suddenly grown suspicious of him. But when the man next spoke, it would have been impossible to tell anything had changed at all.
‘Personally, I believe Andrew Preston is all talk,’ Korolov spoke as if harbouring deep dislike for the American Second Minister. He shook his head, ‘The idea of actually deploying American troops on Russian soil. I don’t know how he thinks he can pull that off, but he must have one huge ace up his sleeve.’
‘Hint at corruption,’ said the voice in Anton’s ear.
He complied: ‘What if Preston was working with someone here in Russia...someone in the government. Then it might be possible, no?’
Korolov didn’t answer; instead he was staring absently at something over Anton’s head. Anton looked on in confusion as Korolov nodded, as if to someone standing behind him. As Anton made to turn around, there was a sharp blow to the back of his head. Then everything was black.

The hooded figure strode purposefully through the 18th century building, her footsteps echoing eerily off the ancient wooden floorboards. Each step was placed as carefully as the last, carrying her form through the dark corridor with precise efficiency. Even Greenfinch’s walk was full of charisma, leaving onlookers in no doubt of her ability to plan and lead.
But the one onlooker, the archaic owner of the mansion, had seen countless others like her before. Rising and falling in the waves of history. Nearly as old as the house itself, she had survived the last hundred years by hanging onto the coat tails of ambitious young visionaries just like Greenfinch, letting go when it suited her to do so. Currently, she stepped out from her watchful position, stopping the other woman mid-stride.
‘What’s happening?’ she demanded, unafraid to look Greenfinch dead in the eye. Unlike the others, she did not cower in terror at Greenfinch’s penetrating gaze, but still afforded her a certain amount of respect. They were equals, and she wouldn’t let either of them forget it.
‘You’re a little keen aren’t you, Amanda?’ Greenfinch lowered her head but, under her hood, Amanda Glass caught Greenfinch’s lips form an amused smile. ‘But you have no need to worry. Everything is progressing as I planned-’
‘We planned,’ Amanda interrupted her, irritably. ‘I don’t need to remind you that I put as much into this as you. I want to know what you’re doing about Preston.’
Greenfinch stepped past her, approaching the top of the grand staircase of the mansion. Unwilling to let her take the lead, Amanda caught up beside her, doubling her normal gait to keep up with the taller woman.
‘Well?’ she prompted impatiently as they descended.
‘Andrew Preston shouldn’t be a problem for much longer,’ Greenfinch replied knowingly.
‘How are we supposed to get rid of him without drawing suspicion to our operation?’ demanded Amanda.
‘‘I have someone working on it, someone I can trust. In fact,’ at the foot of the staircase, Greenfinch stopped and turned towards Amanda, eyes fixed beyond her, ‘you can ask her yourself.’
Amanda gave her a bemused look, and span around. Framed in the open doorway was a familiar figure with long jet black hair and skin as white as snow.
‘Hello Wendy,’ Greenfinch greeted the new arrival contentedly. ‘We wanted an update on your work with Winters. Is she ready for her meeting with Preston?’
The teenage girl stepped forward assertively. The torture in her eyes long gone, they now boasted conviction and self-assurance, with the nightmares that had so tormented them now locked safely away in the mind of another. Her voice did not falter as she confidently updated the two women.
‘She killed the drug dealer... I can make her kill again.’

Another great chapter. I like the inclusion of Wendy, I didn't see that coming

Thanks, yeah I'd been planning that from the start. Thank god, you're thinking, it might actually all be relevant!

I really hope Dana comes back online soon. Amanda was her character. I'd been planning on including her for a while now.

I know it wasn't the exciting chapter I'd promised, but the next one will be, I swear. I just ended up writing this one as it made far more sense to have it before the action-packed ones.

I hear you're closer to finding a new SL for your miniseries!

Yeah, I've decided to go for an idea I've been toying with for a while for the finale. I still need to work out how exactly to get there, though

I always thought it would end up relevant Now I'm starting to see some of the links

Sounds good. That's how I worked with Arc Two, trust me, it's much easier to have the ending and work backwards! Surprisingly so. Sounds promising though. Care to set a rough start date?

Yeah, sometimes when I'm writing it, I just really want to blurt out all the secrets and revelations, but I know it is far better to wait until the oppurtune moment. It's so frustrating though, especially when it all seems so disconnected!

What do you think about my new character: Dmitri Korolov?

I love the new chapter!!!!

Not quite yet. I think I need to do a bit more writing backwards first.

Yeah, not a good idea. I don't think I've ever had that temptation though. Must like keeping secrets too much.

I like him. Sounds an interesting guy, and I want to know how (or if) he's been turned.

Thanks.

Yeah, all will be revealed.

Great!
I cant wait to find out what happens with Dmitri and Anton... it should be interesting

Is Anton's last name Demidov? He will be having a small appearance in Chapter 8 and instead of saying Anton I think it would be good to have his surname

Yes. Anton Demidov. He's a nEH in his late fifties. Thanks for including him.

Well, I got it a bit wrong. He'll be mentioned, but included later on. I'm posting the chapter now, so hope you like it

Whoever had designed the reception foyer at Harnex had obviously been instructed to make it look as high-tech and futuristic as possible. The windows were fragmented safety-glass, blocking out any view of the night sky. This meant that most of the fluorescent light was imprisoned in the building, amplified vastly by the reflective metal which adorned every other surface.
The facility had been updated slightly since Kent had last set foot in it, but there wasn’t any significant change. He knew the way to Lindet’s office, and headed straight for the door that would take him there.
‘Excuse me!’
Kent spun around to face the prim-looking secretary sitting behind the welcome desk. She had half-risen from her seat, but returned to it once Kent had taken notice of her.
‘That’s a restricted area I’m afraid, sir,’ she said robotically. ‘But if you would like to see more of the facility, I can put you with one of the tour groups tomorrow.’
‘I’m not looking for a tour, lady,’ Kent said gruffly, striding over to the desk.
The woman raised her eyebrows at his rudeness but nevertheless kept her professionalism intact, ‘OK then, sir, how can I assist you?’
Kent sighed, realising this wasn’t going to be as straightforward as he had thought. He could handle one receptionist, but if she called security... He decided to see how far the truth would get him.
‘I’m looking for Dr Lindet. I’m an old friend.’ Well, part of the truth at least.
‘I’m sorry, sir, Dr Lindet won’t be taking any visitors today,’ she informed him immediately. ‘He’s in a very important meeting.’
‘Could you please just tell him...?’
She cut him off, sharply: ‘Listen, I can pass on a message. But I told you, he’s in a meeting and won’t be disturbed.’
Kent breathed out deeply. The receptionist was annoying the hell out of him and he was sick of playing games. One way or another, he was going to see Lindet today. Making a decision, he threw her chair back against the wall with a flick of his hand, pinning her there. Her eyes went wide with shock, as she trembled with fear. Despite feeling slightly guilty, Kent didn’t show it as he leant aggressively over the desk.
‘No, you listen to me, lady,’ he hissed. ‘If you want to keep greeting customers with that patronising smile, you’re going to pick up that phone and tell Lindet that Kent Bork is here to see him. Otherwise, I wipe it from your face, you hear me?’

The Second Minister twiddled the business card between his fingers, smirking absently at the bold words printed above the doctor’s name.
It read: “Harnex: Harnessing the Power of the Future.” Whoever had come up with that slogan needed a serious lesson in public relations. Preston sighed, he wasn’t even sure why he was here, watching this nervous little man fumbling with documents on the virtual desktop, sweat gathering beneath his receding hairline. The politician had little time for these fancy bio-technological companies. After what seemed to Preston like hours, Henry Lindet finally looked up at him.
‘We’re not used to this kind of attention from the government, you see,’ he was saying, uneasily. ‘But, well, we couldn’t really keep something like this to ourselves for much longer.’
Preston nodded, trying his best to look understanding and unintimidating. He could already tell Lindet’s job description didn’t involve much public address. The doctor took a deep breath before continuing: ‘About a year ago, we were approached by a member of your administration. A ranking official in the AUTHORITY division, Roland Fox...’
Lindet hesitated, still frightened by thoughts of the Commander. He had to remind himself that the man sat in front of him at present held far more power over him, and his organisation, than Fox had.
‘We were provided with...unlimited funding to reopen a line of research we had been forced to abandon years before-’
‘Yes, this Spectre thing?’ Preston tried to keep from sounding impatient, but he was anxious for Lindet to get to the issue.
‘Specific Targeting of Advanced Genes,’ Lindet recited, a hint of pride sneaking into his voice. ‘We called it Spectar for short. The technology is way ahead of its time.’
Preston leaned forward, revealing his sudden interest.
‘Am I to understand that you have manufactured a chemical weapon that can target certain genetic codes?’
Lindet nodded, his smile fading. ‘Specifically, the DNA of Neo Evolutionarys, yes...’
‘That’s...very impressive,’ Preston conceded, truthfully. Why wasn’t I informed of this? he thought in frustration. ‘So why all this sudden concern?’
At this point, Lindet went pale, as if afraid to disclose the next pieces of information. Eventually, he stuttered: ‘Well, err... A few months back we had a security breach at this facility. Known terrorists stole highly classified files and data. But, most importantly, a vial containing an active prototype of Spectar was also taken.’
The doctor’s voice faltered but, at a raised eyebrow from the second most powerful man in the world, he quickly recovered. ‘Initially, we were convinced that there was little to no danger. As I mentioned, this technology is years before its time. We continued working on Spectar, under Fox’s instructions. But, after a while, we lost contact with him. I can’t tell you why, but one day he just stopped asking for updates-’
‘Commander Fox is dead,’ Preston informed him bluntly. No explanation followed.
‘Oh...’ Lindet, if possible, went even paler. ‘Well, that explains it then.’ A nervous laugh escaped his mouth, but he quickly suppressed it. He twiddled his fingers for a few seconds, regaining the courage to speak. ‘We are a biological research firm, Mr Preston. You must understand, it is in our nature to pursue promising fields of science. And, well, Spectar was beyond promising. So, regardless of Fox’s...unexplained withdrawal, we continued our study into the properties of the chemical. But the more we looked at it, the more we saw of its true potential. It is only now that we have decided to bring this to your attention, since it has taken this long to be certain...’
‘Certain of what?’ Preston demanded, impatience finally creeping in.
‘The full capacity for adaption of the chemicals within Spectar...’
‘Enough scientific jargon, Lindet, just tell me what you mean!’ Preston practically spat.
The doctor jumped slightly at the politician’s sudden aggression but, all the same, replied as calmly as he could: ‘Mr Preston, sir, Spectar, in the wrong hands, could be used to target other forms of DNA. It could work on the non-evolved population.’

‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’
‘I worked for MI6 for eight years, Jessica,’ Mary bit her lip, concentrating as she carefully connected two wires. ‘I know how to handle C4. Just make sure we’re hidden...’
‘Don’t worry, there’s nobody around anyway,’ Jessica sighed. But at a stern glance from Mary, she added: ‘But yes, no one can see us.’ She let Mary finish planting the explosive in silence, but as they walked briskly to the next spot, she piped up again.
‘So remind me why we’re here? You and Elias already got the prototype, why does she need this doctor as well?’
Mary shrugged. ‘He designed the weapon; I suppose he has something we want.’
‘And the fireworks?’
Mary shook her head.
Jessica chuckled slightly, muttering, ‘I thought I was the only one left in the dark.’
‘Assurance,’ the older woman snapped, sounding defensive. ‘This isn’t some botch break-in you and Jack cooked up. We need to be careful...cover our tracks.’
‘Alright, alright,’ the young thief replied dryly. ‘I was only asking. Obviously hit a nerve,’ she muttered, this time making sure Mary wouldn’t hear her.

Chloe and Rachel stood guard as Hannah synchronised her mind with the central network of the facility. Both of them had their weapons raised as a precaution, but they knew it wasn’t necessary. Hex stood close by and, like Hannah, he was deep in concentration, distorting the space around them so no one would cross their path.
After five minutes or so, the wireless awakened sharply, eyes flicking rapidly from left to right.
‘Well...?’ Chloe asked expectantly.
‘I found it,’ Hannah informed her. ‘Lab 23.’
Almost immediately, Chloe made to set off but Hannah held her back, an expression of urgency on her face.
‘This thing... They really don’t want people to know about it,’ Hannah’s eyes were only just settling down. ‘I had to do some hacking-’
‘Shit,’ Chloe hissed under her breath.
Rachel looked confused. ‘What? What does that mean?’
Chloe ignored her, addressing Hannah urgently: ‘Are we still ghost? Any silent alarms?’
Hannah closed her eyes once more, but reopened them almost immediately, her hand shooting to her forehead.
‘I don’t... It’s shut me out,’ she spluttered, gasping in pain.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ Chloe repeated, before turning to Hex. ‘We have to move, now!’

‘You’re telling me that something this advanced, this...dangerous, is in the hands of a known terrorist?’
Preston was on his feet, anger coursing through his veins. How could something like this have happened right under his nose? He was Second Minister of the US, for Christ’s sake, why hadn’t he been notified of this threat? He felt betrayed, humiliated, powerless...
‘There are a lot of kinks,’ Lindet offered haplessly. ‘As of now, the radius on Spectar is pathetic, 50 metres at best. We’ve been working on a way to augment it but...it’s proven somewhat unstable.’
‘That’s supposed to comfort me is it? You should have reported this, months ago!’
Lindet shook his head. ‘It’s like I said, we couldn’t be certain-’
‘Well you seem pretty fucking certain now, don’t you?’ Preston shot bitterly.
Lindet didn’t answer. For a few moments, Preston simply stood there, fuming, but then he dropped back heavily into his seat. He looked exasperated...defeated. When the phone rang, the doctor snatched it up at light speed. Anything to escape this terrible silence.
‘This is Lindet... Yeah, he’s here... What? Are you sure?’
As he set the phone back down, Lindet’s eyes were wide with shock. Several seconds passed before he spoke, but when he did his words were frantic, tainted with fear.
‘We have to get you out, right now, sir. They’re here...’

A brilliant chapter.

Ooooooh! Well done, Danny. It's great. "They're here."

Thanks a lot. I wrote this one quite quickly, so I hope it's ok. You can probably tell, but the next one is going to be an action chapter. This one was more plot development, but I hope it was still reasonably exciting. What do you guys think of the developments so far?

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