INVASION EVASION

AN: Yep. Here I am again. This story is going to run like an episode, hopefully. Right now I still have the details cooking. Are you on board?

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"Ms. Dineen?"

Paige was thinking, 'Who wants to know?' but answered with a long-suffering, "Yes?" instead.

She stared with raised eyebrows at the government agent standing on the opposite side of her desk at the Centipede headquarters. She'd had more than enough of their invading presence in the last few weeks. In that moment the former liaison was having trouble drumming up enough respect to even be tactful.

It didn't help matters that the woman resembled an automaton. Her dark hair was shot with iron grey and was scraped so severely back from her pinch-featured face it probably broke the sound barrier like a whiplash when she released it from the bun at the nape of her neck. If she ever let her hair down at all. Her requisite navy suit was boxy and genderless, not softening her formidable appearance one iota. Undoubtedly that was the intention.

"I'm Magna Weldon with the NSA," the woman said in a clipped, superior way as if mere laypeople should be duly impressed by the announcement. She briefly flashed her badge and ID, but flipped it closed before Paige could actually verify any information.

Not that she cared one way or the other. She just wanted this person to state her business and leave the headquarters in peace. Or in pieces like it had been before the official walked into her office.

"I'm here about your son."

Icy knuckles of alarm bumped along Paige's spine causing her to abruptly sit up straight and slap her palms on the desktop. She'd been afraid of this. "You've already plundered my entire team," she snapped defensively, "You can't have him too."

Weldon's thin lips curved up on one side in a cruel imitation of a smile. "Let's be reasonable here…"

"I think I've been more than reasonable. You people have systematically gutted my business by stealing my whole staff to work on some super-secret government project for an undetermined amount of time. How am I supposed to run a genius consulting service with no geniuses? And now this!" Paige felt herself becoming hysterical and took one then two more pacifying gulps of air. Her voice shook and took on a pleading note she despised but couldn't seem to help. "I'm serious. You can not have him. He's a minor. I'm his mother. I have rights."

"Please calm down, Ms. Dineen. No one is suggesting we take him away from you. If you would collect yourself and give me a moment, I can explain."

Paige leaned back in her chair again, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. In an attempt to alleviate some of her agitation, she dug her fingernails into the soft flesh of her forearms leaving reddened, half-moon depressions. When she was slightly calmer, she gave the woman a curt nod of acquiescence.

"We've been aware of Ralph's abilities since he was detained when he was ten years old. We've been monitoring him since that incident. Now that we're facing a global crisis, we could really use his help." When Paige drew breath to argue, the agent held up her hand and said, "If you would allow me to finish... There is a way to bring him in on this mission and still keep the two of you together."

"No," she refused flatly, "He's only a boy. I won't allow you or anyone else to destroy what's left of his innocence by letting him believe the fate of the world is resting on his shoulders. I won't have it," Paige insisted hotly. She recalled too clearly the devastating effect the Baghdad incident had on…

The woman's nostrils flared and she glared impatiently at the protective mother. Her tone turned chilly. "I'm afraid your only choice in the matter is whether or not you decide to take advantage of the offer to go with him. Your son will be of assistance either way. If you force the issue, we could detain you and make him a temporary ward of the state if we must. The circumstances are quite drastic." All pretense of civility had disappeared along with Paige's ability to breathe.

Their eyes locked in an intense staring contest. Paige spoke first. "So we're resorting to martial law now? Can't he work from home or something?" She ground out through gritted teeth to keep from resorting to begging, or worse, crying. She thought briefly about contacting her lawyer before she remembered Sylvester's services had also been commandeered by the US Government and she hadn't heard from him since.

"No. I'm afraid this mission is very much 'hands on'."

"What exactly would he be doing? I won't have you putting him in danger. I don't care what I have to do to stop it."

"Don't worry. He'll be closely supervised and working in a safe laboratory setting along side other geniuses. Most of whom he already knows. In fact, one of them was most insistent about offering you a way to join your son. He seemed to think you were invaluable even though some of us at the NSA don't consider your presence… strictly necessary. But his help is vital as well and he got extremely belligerent about all of this. He threatened to stop his work and destroy any record of the progress he's already made, putting his own personal freedom in jeopardy in the process, I might add. He thinks very highly of you. I believe you used to work for him."

Walter. Obviously.

There was an uncomfortable roiling sensation in her stomach. No matter they were no longer together. No matter that she'd absconded with nearly all of his employees. No matter that she used Scorpion's contacts to steal clients for her own fledgling company. He was still protecting her and Ralph…from a distance.

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Paige hadn't slept a wink. She'd been so wide awake all night she was pretty sure she hadn't so much as blinked either. It was as if she'd consumed a whole six pack of Red Bull and instead of giving her wings, it forced her to memorize the precise position of every tiny kernel of popcorn on the ceiling above her bed while she went over and over and over the version of 'the plan' she was given. It was hardly explained to her at all. No matter how many times she rewound and replayed the bizarre conversation and subsequent events, they never seemed to sink in properly.

Weldon hadn't told her very much. Almost every question was countered with a smug and very unapologetic, "I'm sorry, that's need to know". All Paige could get out of the evasive agent was instructions for her and Ralph to go home and pack for a long trip. She was not told where they were going. Nor how long they would be gone. Nor where exactly they'd be staying, let alone what they'd be required to do.

When she asked what would happen to the lease on her office and her condo, her business and car loans, or what she was supposed to say to Ralph's school, she was simply told it would all be 'taken care of'. Well, that clarified absolutely nothing at all.

Still, what choice did she really have? She couldn't stand for them to take Ralph away to work in some undisclosed location with no ability to communicate. No way.

Paige had briefly considered grabbing her son and disappearing. After all, she still had those ill-gotten gains her mother left in her desk drawer at Scorpion when she'd faked her death and gone off the grid. It was safely tucked away in a numbered bank account in the Caymans. But as she locked up the door to the darkened Centipede office and took note of the unmarked government vehicle parked at the curb, complete with two suits wearing sunglasses inside, in addition to the unwelcome and very vigilant escort of Agent Mulish Magda, she figured it would take a team of geniuses to figure out how to escape them. And she was fresh out of geniuses at the moment. Thanks to the very same government representatives.

Paige finally decided to roll out of bed when she heard the distinct sounds of someone rummaging around in her kitchen cupboards and smelled coffee brewing. It appeared their jailers had made themselves at home. How nice for them.

After switching on the bedside lamp, she rose and threw on her robe. She'd just pulled her suitcase down from the top shelf in the closet, when someone knocked briskly on her door. When she didn't answer right away, the knock sounded again.

Ten seconds. This agent couldn't give her ten seconds?

"Come on in," An over-tired Paige groused angrily, "Mi casa es totally tu casa now."

The door swung inward as she slammed the suitcase down on the bed watching in satisfaction as it bounced three times on the mattress before she slung it open.

"Is someone in a mood?"

What the hell?

"Agent Gleason? What are you doing here? Am I actually asleep and dreaming? I thought we were only being hassled by the NSA. Now MI-6 is somehow involved in this mess too?"

His sharp eyes evaluated her rumpled, red-eyed, sleep-deprived appearance. "I'm afraid multiple agencies are involved worldwide. I think you were told this… crisis is on a larger than normal scale. The higher ups thought you might feel more at ease with someone you already know."

Someone she knew? Like anyone could know Gleason. His own mother probably couldn't figure him out.

"I've been told literally nothing except my son is being kidnapped by the government and I'm being invited along for the ride." She started haphazardly shoving clothes in the suitcase. "How does one even know how to pack for such a thing? Is it going to be tropical where we're being held? Or should I throw in my snowshoes? Will my set of lock picks be useful in helping us to escape? Or should I just bring my manicure set and hope the metal detectors don't alert my captors to the file inside? Will they be providing us with those attractive orange jumpsuits for the length of our stay? And how many undies will I need? I mean, will we be gone long enough to require laundry facilities?"

She shook a fistful of undergarments at Gleason. His expression didn't change one iota. "I should think your accommodations will be climate controlled. A light sweater should do the trick. I don't think your burglary tools will be necessary and will only take up space which is already scarce. As for unmentionables, you may want to pack a fair few. I'm not exactly sure about laundry privileges."

Paige sank down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. "Is there anything useful you can tell me?"

"Yes. I can tell you I've made coffee and your transportation is waiting for you outside whenever you're ready."

"Gee. Thanks for that. That really clears things right up for me." She hurled the words at the enigmatic man's back as he turned to go, leaving her alone with her jumbled thoughts.

Showered, dressed, packed, caffeinated and filled with trepidation, Paige plopped down in the middle seat of the standard government-issue SUV next to Ralph. She could tell right away her son was near to bursting with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming mission. He was thrilled when she told him what she knew, which was next to nothing, the evening before. It was all some kind of grand adventure to him. And she couldn't discount his enthusiasm might have something to do with seeing and working with Walter again too. If the break up of their relationship and the demise of Scorpion three months ago was difficult for her, it was even worse for Ralph. He'd been crushed. This was the most lively she'd seen him since. If there was an upshot to all the intrigue and doubt, that was it. However, she still worried over what he might be facing and what it would mean for him if the mission wasn't successful.

During the mostly silent ride, Ralph's eyes remained glued to a distant spot somewhere outside his window while Paige's kept darting over to him. She hadn't been paying much attention to where they were going until Ralph asked the driver, "Why are we stopping at the courthouse?"

"This is where the wedding will happen," the man answered gruffly as if it should have been obvious.

"Wedding? What wedding?" Paige asked,

"Yours, of course," Gleason replied from the front passenger seat, "There is limited space in the laboratory and the living quarters. You needed a valid reason to be included. The top scientists were the only ones allowed to bring immediate family, up to four persons. This is your cover for being there."

The vehicle rolled to a stop while Paige's tired mind whirled trying to process the words while the beginnings of a fatigue headache started pulsing in her temples. "Hang on… Aren't I considered Ralph's immediate…?"

Her question trailed off as she spied a very familiar figure at the top of the courthouse steps. She felt all the blood drain from her head leaving her dizzy.

Ralph fingers scrambled to fling off his seatbelt and he threw open his door.

"Walter!" He called happily as he vaulted up those steps two at a time.