"You honestly expect me to believe this?" Martin whispers to Tran. "Keeping Promises is creating its own arsenal of paranormals to take over the country?"

She shrugs and sighs. "He's telling the truth -- they both are. We may or may not believe it, but they sure as hell do." Her forehead wrinkles. "I don't think she's tricking me, either. What the hell do we do now?" 

In the bedroom, Russ laughs softly at something Marilyn has said. In the hotel room, Tran, Martin and Russ had found the woman beaten and bound -- just as Tran had determined from the lookout's mind. Now, in the bathroom of a sleazier motel room, the AI Inc investigators were trying to make sense of what they'd just heard. Marilyn had been part of the Keeping Promise's women's group, and, like Russ, had been struggling with her paranormal abilities. When she confided in her group, she'd also been invited to the Southern California headquarters shortly afterwards, and there she'd found much the same situation Russ had.

As Marilyn had gone on to explain to the investigators, there had been pressure to cleanse herself, and she was visited by doctors daily, who took blood samples and gave her injections. Like Russ, she wasn't interested in being purged, just coming to peace with KP's stance on paranormals and her own abilities. But unlike Russ, Marilyn was a med-surg nurse whose mental abilities weren't blocked by the drugs she was given, and she knew what her chart really said. Pretending to capitulate to KP demands, Marilyn's talents allowed her to trick KP's mentalist into believing their conditioning had worked -- and to be released. 

She went straight to the St. Louis PRIMUS base with her story, and the investigator had seemed sympathetic as he'd listened. But there had been no follow-up -- at least, not until the goons had shown up on her doorstep the night before.

Marilyn had other information to offer Martin and Tran, as well. She'd learned that KP had been visiting prisoners in Stronghold -- converting them -- and then working to affect their early release. Those felons -- like Spike -- had been put to work by the organization, though Marilyn had heard of nothing as obvious as the attack on Russ while she was there.

"All right, all right," Martin growls resignedly. "I'll go with it - God knows it isn't any weirder than secret government bases in the Nevada desert and quick-frozen Korean war paranormals held hostage for their DNA." 

Glancing over his shoulder at the other room, he continues, "So now what? If she's right, these guys have suborned at least some PRIMUS personnel - and they're the guys who're supposed to deal with this kind of crap." He grimaces, "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just not used to having the fate of the world land on my shoulders..." his stomach rumbles menacingly, ".. before my mid-afternoon snack," he finishes with a sheepish grin.

Tran sighs and sits down on the edge of the tub. "It's OK," she says, running a hand through her currently-blond hair. "Let's get you something to eat. Martin, I don't know what the hell to do now -- this is out of our league. It's one thing to look into something for Dr. Emori, but I'm afraid that it's just going to get us killed at this point, if we continue this investigation." 

Martin eyes the neatly-tied garbage bag containing the remains of the clothing he'd started the day wearing and nods, thinking to himself, "Yeah, well, I kinda think we're a little late on that front." 

Pushing the thought aside, he glances back at Tran and nods again, "I'm right there with you on the 'out of our league' part of this - we just don't have the manpower or the resources to go head-to-head with these guys. Nobody does," he continues thoughtfully, "except PRIMUS, really, and if what the girl says is true, they've already been penetrated on some levels."

"I guess," he concludes, "that we need to do two things - call David, and see what those thugs wanted from the kid out there," he nods toward the other rooms. "If he's got some kind of hard evidence on them, that'll make the job of selling this to somebody like the Golden Avenger a heck of lot easier."

Tran scowls, and scuffs her feet like a child. "Right -- can you imagine how that conversation would go? 'Oh, Avenger Johnson,'" she says in a high-pitched, whiny voice, "'We're just stupid civilians who got messed up in a whole lot of trouble. Can you please bail us out?'"

Martin shakes his head, "Who else are we going to call? Somehow I don't think Geraldo or Jerry Springer is up to the job. Besides, I was talking to David before we left, and he mentioned that PRIMUS had already had some problems in the South with a group we connected to the Keepers. They were calling themselves "The Rapture" - and seemed to be composed of previously unidentified paranormals."

He pauses for a second, them adds softly, "I'm not real fond of passing the buck and letting other people solve my cases, but I just don't see another out here. It's not like we can suit up the staff, break open the armory, and go to war with these guys - because that's what it's going to take. C'mon," he finishes with a slight grin, "can you really see Annabelle lugging around an M-60 and firing it from the hip like Rambo?" 

Her lips quirk into a smile, "No, I guess not. But it still rankles. A lot. Let's find out what was in the damn bag and go home, then."

She opens the bathroom door, and steps out. Russ and Marilyn are still chuckling at some joke, and look up with a start at the sight of Tran. 

"We all need to get out of here," Tran says bluntly. "And you two -- get the hell out of the country. Costa Rica is nice this time of year, I think. Now what," she turns to Russ, "was it that you stole?" 

Russ holds up the paper sack. "Here," he says, handing to Martin, who is closer. "It's all yours."

Opening the bag, Martin comes up with a survey map, a Magellan GPS and three vials of a bluish-green liquid.

Martin carefully sets the contents out on the room's dresser. "The vials are some of the serum they were working up?" he asks, examining the map closely. "And this shows the location of where you were held?" 

"No, I don't know where the map was to," Russ says. "When I broke out, I grabbed the vials from the doctor. The map and the GPS I found further along in the center -- I made my way through the ventilation system, and ended up in a conference room. The map was on the wall, and the GPS was on the table. The guy I startled in there thought it was important, so I took it. The only coordinates that are entered into it are somewhere in Mexico."

Martin nods, and looks up from the map he'd been examining. "That would probably explain why the map is in Spanish then - and using Mexico as a base to train their little army makes a kind of sense. All they'd have to do is pay off the right locals, and everyone would just assume they were another druglord setting up shop."

He shakes his head and carefully repacks the GPS and map in his briefcase, stealing hand towels from the bathroom the roll the vials up in before adding them the case and closing it. "Somehow I don't think this is what NAFTA was set up to cover..."

"Maybe the bridge to the twenty-first century is being built with human flesh," Tran adds darkly. "Let's get out of here."

AI Inc.'s office manager sulks during the ride to the airport; Martin is learning she's a very poor loser. "You know," she comments quietly to Martin, as they approach the Southwest Airlines gate, "It wouldn't take me very long to come up with some bogus passports." 

Martin smiles and shakes his head, "Tell you what - we'll talk to David and see what he thinks, all right? I'm not planning anything like this without his okay first - but if he thinks it's doable, I'm in - deal?" 

Tran sighs. "Oh, all right." Underneath her breath, Martin can hear her mutter, "Party pooper."

Once at the gate, the four board the plane for San Francisco, enjoying a calm flight with only a little turbulence over the Rockies. Once they disembark, they find car waiting for them at the airport, as well as directions and keys to a small house outside Berkeley for Marilyn and Russ to hide out in. 

After dropping the two of them off, and making sure that they were settled in safely, Martin and Tran (now looking like her typical self, with blue-tinged hair, fingernails, and leather outfit) head back to the office to find the AI Inc offices are in the midst of the Christmas party when they return. Stepping into the door, Martin finds himself being suddenly kissed by Miriam, the young receptionist, who giggles and returns to dancing. Tran sidesteps through the door, avoiding the mistletoe Martin stands under.

David is talking with a handsome older woman beside the refreshment table; Isaac is eagerly building a small bridge out of straws and toothpicks, apparently to illustrate some point to Anna and her fiancée. Annabelle and Pete are arguing animatedly about Brooklyn pizza joints, though Ana's cleavage seems to be winning that argument for her. A small, dark haired woman with heavy glasses Martin hasn't seen before is typing ferociously at her laptop in one of the wing chairs in the waiting area.

 "I'd forgotten about the Christmas party," Tran groans. "I had been happy I was missing it."

 "Look at the bright side," Martin chuckles, easing around the corner before another employee can ambush him, "if this were one of the parties the guys on the Force used to throw, they'd be chasing you around the room with the stuff," he points at the mistletoe over the door. "We didn't see a lot of attractive people that weren't under arrest for something," he explains.

 Nodding towards the long-haired typist, he asks, "She's new - another recent addition to the staff?"

 "Sure," Martin replies, then adds teasingly as they approach Tirzah, "You hired her just so you'd have someone else to answer my stupid computer questions."

 Tran blinks innocently. "Of course not. I like reformatting your hard drive every time you see fit to delete half of your Windows directory. Really, I do."

 "Tirzah," she says, standing over the young woman. "Didn't know you were going to be starting before Christmas, or I would have made sure I was here earlier to show you the ropes. This is Martin DuQuense, one of the other investigators," she presents with a flourish. "And your computer's new nightmare. Don't let him get Diet Pepsi anywhere near that laptop," she says. "Or you'll have a new doorstop."

"It was not Diet Pepsi," Martin retorts defensively, making a face. "It was herbal tea. Celestial Seasoning's Mandarin Orange Spice to be exact. And," he continues, "it wasn't my fault - one of those statues snuck back in my office while I was out and crawled up onto my desk behind some folders. I jumped when I moved them and found it. It could have happened to anyone," he finishes weakly.

Tirzah looks up over her glasses at Martin and Tran, studying first one, then the other. A small grin quirks one corner of her mouth, and she clutches the laptop protectively. "No, no, say it isn't so!" The grin becomes a real smile. "I wonder if it was as spectacular as the time the E-3 spilled ketchup into the Cray's thermostat control...," she muses. "Shut down half of Europe."

'Ummm...." Martin hedges, "It didn't crash *Europe*, but it *did* shut down the office network..." He turns to Tran, "Some kind of power spike or something, right? At least I think that's what you said..."

"Something like that," she smiles. "Here, give me the bag," she takes it from Martin, "And let me put this in my office. I'll grab Mr. Armitage away from his mother and we can have that talk we'd been thinking about. You keep Tirzah entertained for a few minutes, and make sure she doesn't hack my e-mail." Tran dodges the mistletoe again, and glares down its bearer, Armitage's fourteen-year-old son. "Try it and you're a dead kid," she barks.

Chuckling at the crestfallen look on the boy's face as Tran makes her escape, Martin leans over to tell him, "Don't worry about it too much - another year or so and the girls will be the ones chasing you."

"Yeah, right," David's tow-headed son -- Robert, Martin remembers belatedly -- says with typical teenage angst. "Mom always says that, but they're all taller'n me."

Martin shakes his head, and adds seriously, "Don't worry too much about that Robert, I had the same problems when I was growing up. I finally grew something like six inches the year I turned sixteen - I think I went through five wardrobes that year. Besides, when the right girl comes along, I guarantee that who's taller than who isn't something either one of you will care about." He pauses a second, then adds, "Just don't get discouraged if she doesn't come along tomorrow - life runs at its own pace, and nothing we can do will make it change gears to suit our personal wants. The right girl and the right time will come along soon enough, and it'll be worth all the waiting in the world."

Robert blinks several times. "Um, thanks," David's tow-headed son says with a false brightness Martin has heard Tran use when not sure how to deal with someone. "I think I need to go and find my sister."

Realizing she's alone with Martin, a slight look of panic flashes across Tirzah's face, and she looks down at the keyboard, playing with the trackball. "So, um.... Umm... uh...," she stammers for a moment, then blurts out in relief, "So, how long have you been with AI?"

"Just a little under a year," Martin answers, "right at ten months."

"Oh." She looks down at the computer screen, sighs and deletes the line of symbols she's just added to the page. "Ummm.... Are you from San Francisco?"

"Yes," Martin replies. "All my life. And you? Judging from the accent, I'd say somewhere far east and... south of here."

"Tennessee, actually," she says. "A small town just outside the Smokey Mountains National Park. I've only been in San Francisco a few weeks."

He nods. "Sounds lots more scenic than downtown San Francisco. You can only look at so many buildings before they all begin to look the same." Martin glances to one side, nods, and turns back to Tirzah, "That's Tran giving me the high sign. I've got to run. I'm sure I'll be talking to you again... soon. Probably as soon as I sit down at my computer." 

She nods in return. "Nice to meet you." She glances down at the keyboard again, then back at him and grins.

 He nods, smiling as he starts to leave. "Good to meet you. Welcome to the company."

 "Thank you."

 Tran emerges from her office at the same time Martin approaches it. "I haven't grabbed Arm-- I mean, David, yet," she says as she realizes their boss is in shouting distance. "I'm not sure if Dr. Emori's lurking around here, either, but we're going to need to get her to analyze those vials. Let me get her, and you get him," she points her thumb at Armitage, who is still talking to the older woman. "Sound like a plan?"

 Armitage smiles as Martin approaches. "Nice to see you around and in one piece," he says with eerie coincidence. Turning to the gray-haired matron, he says, "Mother, I'd like to present Martin DuQuense, one of our investigators, to you."  

"Pleased to meet you ma'am," Martin says pleasantly.

 "Marcia Thompson," she responds with a smile. "And David's said such nice things about you. Oh," she remembers, "You're Dorothy's father! I must say, I really enjoyed having her at the ballet last night."

"I'm glad she wasn't too much trouble." he replies, then adds with a smile, "I really appreciate the your helping out with her. I don't think David knew he'd be opening a part-time childcare service when he hired me on." He pauses, then blinks. "Does that mean Dorothy's here?" he asks, looking around. 

"She and Alex have been tearing around the new suite, across the hall," David says. "They should be tearing back any minute now. Martin and Tran have been busy on a case -- honestly, I don't think I expected you back so soon," Armitage finishes. "How'd it go?"

 "I'm afraid we've reached one of those 'we need to talk' moments," Martin admits. "Things are a bit more complicated than they first appeared when we flew out."

Catching Martin's tone, Armitage nods. "If you'll excuse us, Mother," he says as Tran steps up to them.

"Of course," she says.

"A pleasure to meet you ma'am," Martin says as she departs. "Thank you again."

Armitage opens the door to his office. "General quarters! General quarters! This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill."

The owner of the offending parrot sighs. "This is, I'm sure my revenge for years of drills. Well," he says, sitting down, "Have a seat and spit it out. What happened?"

"By my count?" Martin asks sadly. "I think I personally only committed six or seven felonies." He sighs, glancing around the room and starting to pace, "Everything was pretty normal until Russ didn't show up for the meeting. Tran and I gave him a couple of extra minutes and then went to his apartment to see what the problem was." He waves a hand, "That's when it got bad. There was a goon outside the door, and more inside. Tran did... something - read his thoughts I guess - and found out the guy was there with a bunch of guys to get something back from Russ. Something he'd taken from the Keeping Promises compound when he left."

Armitage looks sharply at Tran, who looks at the floor.

Martin stops behind a chair, leaning on the back of it. "We... knocked the door man out, left him in the hall stairwell tied up. When we entered the apartment... it went ugly. Russ was out on the couch, he'd been worked over pretty well before we got there. The rest of the thugs started coming out of the back rooms and there was a fight."

"How bad of a fight?" Armitage asks softly. "Were either of you hurt?"

"Yeah," Martin replies. "I guess you could say that. We did okay with the first guys; they weren't anything special. It was their paranormal backup that was the problem. He...," Martin looks uncomfortable, "he cut me up pretty badly."

"How are you now?" Armitage asks, knowingly. "Do you need to see Dr. Emori?"

"Maybe later," Martin admits reluctantly. "More to talk than anything else. It was...," he shrugs, "It was unpleasant." He nods towards Tran, "I think Tran'll back me up on that."

"It would have been nice," she says, looking a tad green at the memory, "If I had more warning about what you were capable of." She sighs, and pats Martin's hand reassuringly -- an odd gesture from Tran. "All that aside, David, we screwed up. We did our best to cover up the crime scene, but we need to figure out what our next move is. Russ had taken information about some operation the KP-ers have going in Mexico, and he -- and our other witness -- have pretty much implicated PRIMUS and God knows who else in this operation. We're not sure what we ought to do -- sit on the information, pass it on, or if so, to whom. I've got the evidence in my office, if you'd like to take a look at it." Tran glances at Martin. "Martin thinks it's too big for us, and he's got a point," she admits grudgingly. "However, I'm somewhat concerned that if we a) pass it on that it'll go to the wrong people and get covered up -- and us in trouble or b) if we do nothing that whatever it is these guys are up to, it'll get a whole lot worse. I mean, from what Russ and Marilyn have told us, KP is up to no good, and that's aside from their conservative political agenda."

Martin holds up a hand as David starts to speak, "Just to speed this along, let me try and summarize the bits you're about to ask about." He pauses, then begins to reel the items off, holding up a finger for each one. "The crime scene we covered up was the fight obviously. We covered it up because Russ came to and shot the KP paranormal, killing him, after the guy had sliced up one of his own men... and me. The paranormal. The paranormal was a guy who Avenger Johnson busted a while back - a particularly unpleasant homicidal pedophile who called himself 'Spike.' The other witness. She's a woman with paranormal powers who had a similar experience to Russ', and also escaped KP, only to be recaptured later by the same team we fought at Russ' apartment." Martin pauses, looking at David wearily. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, I think that essentially covers that ground," Armitage responds with one upturned eyebrow. "But what is this about implicating PRIMUS and 'the wrong people?' Have you found out who is aware of -- and responsible for -- these thugs?"

"Marilyn, our second witness, said that she'd gone to the local PRIMUS office with her experiences - and that they'd been buried. She never heard from them after the initial interview," Martin sighs, distaste coloring his words. "The man nominated to fill the position of Intelligence Director for PRIMUS is one of the 'founding fathers' of the KP movement."

"Christ," Armitage says. He sighs. "My godson hasn't been mentioned in conjunction with any of this, has he? I had a strange call from him a day or two ago and now I'm wondering if it wasn't a set up."

Martin raises an eyebrow and glances at Tran before answering, "No. In fact, no one's brought his name up at all. To be honest," he pauses, as if debating with himself, "my gut tells me he's too clean to have anything to do with this. The man squeaks when he walks."

Armitage snorts. "That's probably the nicest way I've ever heard anyone put it, his family included -- no, that's not fair. DJ is really one of the best men I've ever known. But," he adds, "You'll admit it seemed a bit odd when I got a call from him telling me he was sending out a good number of his agent task force out here to 'assist' us. He's known something fishy was up with Rubicon since the summer, when Maria Chow was instructed by Vasquez to cease and desist any and all investigations of Rubicon in conjunction with the paranormal virus, and so I've kept him appraised of your efforts -- and those of Dr. Emori -- here, whenever he's been in town."

"I've been told to expect five agents from Washington immediately after the holidays -- for exactly what, I’m not sure. DJ would come himself, but he's taking his annual leave and going to some Boy Scout event in Australia." Armitage sighs as he sees Tran bristle. "If I felt I could say no, I would. I trust DJ, and I'd take him at his word no matter what. I do know he'll be here for a day or two before his flight leaves -- if nothing else, we'll get him to vouch for the agents personally. I don't know if they want to just see your notes or if they want our help in earnest, but you don't have to do anything you're unconformable with -- if you don't like the look of them, don't tell them anything. I'll deal with DJ, then."

"A half-dozen agents?" Martin questions. "Oh that should be easy to hide from the bad guys. No one will ever notice them." He shakes his head, "All right, it doesn't look like we get a lot of choice on this one. We'll see what Avenger Johnson sends us and work from there. I am," he adds, "honestly a bit more concerned about the repercussions from the fight in Russ' apartment at the moment."

"I'll start looking into it," Armitage says, "Tran, mind helping with that?"

"No," she responds. "I think that the clean up job we did is probably adequate for the circumstances. Once the police realize that a paranormal was involved, they may call PRIMUS in on it. If they do, well, we knew that the PRIMUS base out there was in on things to begin with -- so I think our biggest concern isn't going to be with Kansas cops, but the feds."

Armitage nods. "Martin, what do you think?"

"She's right," he nods. "Not that I think anybody who recognizes the SOB will miss him - especially anyone with kids - but they'll probably call PRIMUS in and dump it in their laps once they realize who the corpse is - less paperwork for them that way."

He glances at Tran, "I think we got all of the gross physical evidence cleaned up that was feasible given our time constraints. The rest of it..." he shrugs, "I can't make DNA tracings and the like go away with the wave of a hand. And," he grimaces, "there's probably plenty of mine still there that we couldn't get off the floor without sawing the boards up."

"We'll see if we can't put Tirzah to work right away," Tran muses. "If we could get her access to the PRIMUS MATRIX system, we might be able to make several headaches go away at once."

"I'm quite sure I didn't hear that," Armitage says. "But I'll let you handle this as you see fit. But forget about this mess for now -- it's Christmas, you don't need this kind of headache. Have fun -- by the way, Dorothy was a sweetheart, Martin -- if I could only get Alexandra to behave this well, I'd have it made."

Martin grins, "She was probably on her best behavior, she's usually more than I can handle by myself."

"One more thing," Armitage says. "I meant to mention this before, and I forgot. The Golden Avenger -- and the rest of the world -- thinks that Mari Emori is tracking Ebola cases in Africa. While I don't understand her need for keeping it secret from him, I do respect her decision. The name we're using for her is Mary Yagamura -- not much of a stretch, but I doubt he'll question it."

Tran nods. "Not a problem," she says, standing.

"However you want to play it is fine with me," Martin says, also standing.

"Great," Armitage responds. "I suggest we go and rejoin the party -- and we can meet to discuss this again after the holidays."